The liquor hit harder than I had expected. The burn tore down my throat and seemed to blaze all the way to my womb.

I curled up in a corner backstage, cold sweat soaking through the thick clown costume.

A violent cramp seized my abdomen.

I bit down on the back of my hand to keep from crying out.

I apologized to my baby, begging him to endure just a little longer.

This was a debt I owed his father. If we could just get through tonight, if he could finally let go of his anger, maybe he would treat us a little less cruelly…

"Hey! You dead in there?"

The dressing room door was kicked open.

The maid looked at me with open disgust. "Ms. Crowne's birthday banquet has started! Get out there already!"

I pushed myself up against the wall, swallowing the pain.

In the mirror, a grotesque face stared back at me—white greasepaint caked thick, a blood-red grin painted wide across it. It was absurd. Revolting.

A red-and-green bodysuit clung to me, a ridiculous tail stitched to the back.

This was the role Killian had assigned me.

Once, I had been his most cherished love. Now, I was his clown.

The banquet hall blazed with light.

"Look! The shameless clown is here!"

Dozens of mocking, contemptuous stares pierced through me.

"Oh my God, is that really Cynthia? The former rich girl?"

"Dressing up like this for money. What a well-trained lap dog."

I listened numbly, dragging my heavy legs to the center of the hall.

Killian sat at the head of the room.

Vivian was nestled in his arms, dressed in a custom white gown, radiant as a princess.

"Oh my, it really is Cynthia." Vivian covered her mouth as she laughed sweetly. "Killian, you're so cruel. How could you let her dress like that?"

Killian looked away, his voice cold and rigid. "If she's here to atone, she should look the part."

Then he turned to me, "Begin your show. Don't disappoint Vivian."

I drew in a shaky breath and began to move, ignoring the stabbing pain in my abdomen.

I stumbled. Rolled on the floor. Spun in circles like a trained lap dog.

Each movement triggered waves of laughter around me.

"Hahaha! Look at how pathetic she is!"

"Fall harder next time!"

I moved like a puppet, performing for the very people who had once bowed and scraped before me.

Suddenly, Vivian rose from Killian's arms, a glass of red wine in hand, and walked toward me.

"Cynthia, you dance so well." Her smile was syrup-sweet, but cruelty glittered in her eyes. "But dancing alone is boring. How about… you perform a little face-plant for us?"

Before she finished speaking, her diamond-studded heel shot out and hooked sharply around my ankle.

Already weak, I crashed hard onto the floor.

The pocket watch hidden in my inner pocket slipped free and rolled to Vivian's feet.

It was my mother's watch.

And years ago, when Killian and I had pledged ourselves to each other, he had personally chosen it as a gift for her.

"Give it back!"

I lunged for it like I'd lost my mind.

But the heel was faster.

Vivian's thin stiletto came down hard on the watch.

The glass face shattered instantly, and the photograph of my mother inside was crushed beneath her heel.

"Vivian!" A sharp shout rang out.

Killian, who had been silent all this time, suddenly shot to his feet. His eyes locked onto the shattered pieces on the floor, shock and anger flashing through them.

"Who told you to touch that?"

He recognized it.

He still remembered.

A fragile, aching hope rose in my chest.

"Oh, Killian, why are you yelling at me like that?"

Vivian flinched at first, then pouted as if wronged. Yet the tip of her heel pressed harder into the broken pieces, grinding them deliberately.

"It's just something that belonged to a dead woman. Keeping it only brings bad luck. I'm helping Cynthia let go."

"What did you say?" I froze.

Vivian looked down at me from above.

"Cynthia, you don't actually believe your murderer mother is still alive, do you?"

My heart skipped violently.

"What… are you saying?"

Vivian pulled out her phone and shoved the screen in front of my face.

"Take a good look, Cynthia."

It was a photograph of a death certificate.

Deceased—Serena Hartwell.

Time of death—Three months ago.

Three months ago?

"That's impossible… that's not possible!" I shook my head wildly. "Killian showed me the surveillance! Just yesterday! I saw her lying in the hospital bed!"

"Surveillance?" Vivian let out a cold laugh. "That was just looped footage. Only an idiot like you would believe it."

She crouched down and leaned close to my ear, whispering viciously. "Your mother's life support was pulled three months ago when the hospital bills went unpaid. Her body was dumped into Blackfield Pit. By now, the wild dogs have probably finished with her."

It felt like lightning had split my skull open.

My mother had died three months ago?

Then all those days in Gutterdeep—being humiliated like a lap dog, selling my dignity for a few thousand dollars, nearly poisoning my unborn child just now to keep her oxygen line intact...

It had all been a joke.

Everything I had endured over the past three months had been nothing but a complete and calculated lie.

"Killian…"

I turned stiffly to look at the man seated above us in silence.

My Alpha.

My only hope.

"You knew… all along, didn't you?"

Killian's face had gone ashen. For the first time, a flicker of panic cracked through his usual cold composure.

"Cynthia…"

He did not deny it.

His silence drove into my already shattered heart like a rusted, dull blade—and twisted.

So in his eyes, I had never even been a person.

He must have found it amusing—watching me struggle and degrade myself for someone who was already dead.

"Ha… hahaha…"

I started laughing.

The sound was sharp and broken. Tears washed through the greasepaint on my face, warping the red grin into something twisted and grotesque.

The two pillars that had kept me alive were gone.

My mother was dead.

And the last fragile thread of love and illusion I still clung to for Killian snapped.

"Cynthia…" Killian stepped toward me instinctively. "Listen to me. It was to make you atone…"

"Shut up." I cut him off.

In that moment, I needed neither his explanation nor his mercy.

I rose slowly from the floor.

No longer groveling. No longer trembling.

"Congratulations, Killian." I let out a quiet breath. "You've won. You finally killed the Cynthia who loved you… with your own hands."

Since Killian destroyed everything I had.

I no longer wanted him either.

"What do you mean, Cynthia?" Killian's voice trembled.

As he looked at me, a real fracture appeared for the first time in those always-arrogant eyes.

"Sit down! Cynthia! I order you not to move!"

A powerful Alpha aura erupted, pressing down on me, trying to force me into submission like before.

The surrounding guests dropped to their knees under the crushing pressure, trembling violently.

Only I remained standing.

The force that once made my knees buckle now brushed over me like nothing more than a passing wind.

Because my heart had already died.

What could an Alpha threaten someone who no longer feared death?

I reached up and pulled off the ridiculous clown wig, tossing it into a puddle of spilled wine.

Then I used my sleeve to wipe away the grotesque red paint from my face, little by little.

It felt as though I was erasing the past ten years of my youth, and the foolish girl I had once been.

"Killian, you know what? I truly loved you once. I thought if I obeyed you, if you remembered what we once had, you would at least save my mother. But it turns out I wasn't even worth a joke in your heart."

"Cynthia, stop!" Killian's face turned ghostly ashen. Veins bulged along his neck as he lunged forward, as if he could physically silence me. "Don't say another word! We can start over. As long as you…"

"There's no starting over. Do you know why I insisted on saving my mother?"

I stepped toward him slowly. My wolf roared inside me.

"Because she was the only person in this world who truly loved me. And you," I pointed at him, tears streaming down my face as I laughed, "you used that love to make me drink poison alcohol, to turn me into a clown, to make me kneel like an idiot before a murderer. Killian, you're the pathetic one. You keep calling me a traitor. Take a look at yourself now."

"Enough!" Killian's face drained of color again. The veins in his neck stood out sharply. "Cynthia, don't push me! I hid your mother's death to make you atone. It was the only way you would obey!"

"Atone?" I let out a cold laugh. "Atonement means making me unknowingly earn three months of morgue fees for my own mother? Atonement means letting the woman in your arms crush my mother's only keepsake?"

I turned sharply toward Vivian.

The once-arrogant woman was now screaming, clutching Killian's sleeve in panic. "Killian, she's lost her mind! Kill her!"

"You're right."

I nodded, my gaze wild yet resolute. "The old Cynthia is dead. She died in that bottle of liquor. She died on that death certificate."

I took a deep breath.

"Cynthia, what are you doing?" For the first time, real fear surfaced in Killian's eyes. He reached out in panic, trying to grab me. "Don't do anything foolish. If you just behave, I can…"

"You can what? Buy my mother a nicer urn?"

I stepped back. I widened the distance between us.

I straightened my spine and gathered every ounce of strength into my voice.

I looked straight into Killian's eyes and shouted the vow that would damn him forever. "I, Cynthia Hartwell, reject you, Killian Ashford, as my Alpha and mate! For the monstrous lie you spun! And for my mother's death! Our Mate Bond is broken. From this moment until death!"

As the final word left my lips, a streak of crimson lightning tore across the night sky beyond the windows.

It was the Moon Goddess bearing witness.

It was punishment descending.

Killian let out a scream of pure agony.

The Mate Bond that linked our souls was torn apart by force.

He spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed heavily to his knees.

He clutched his chest as if trying to hold himself together. "No… Cynthia… no…"

He remained on his knees, blood staining his lips, his hand trembling as he reached for me. The pride and coldness in his eyes were gone. Only terror and despair remained. "Please… don't leave… take it back…"

The guests descended into complete chaos.

Screams rang out. Tables and chairs crashed to the floor.

"Oh my God! She rejected the Alpha!"

"Killian is coughing up blood! Call the Healer!"

Vivian stood frozen for a second, then shrieked at the guards, "Grab her! Get that bitch! She's killing the Alpha!"

Dozens of armed guards rushed in from every direction, sealing off every exit within seconds.

I glanced once more at Killian kneeling on the floor.

He writhed in agony like an abandoned stray.

I felt no satisfaction.

"Goodbye, Killian."

I turned, seized a chair, and smashed it into the floor-to-ceiling window behind me.

Then I ran toward the shattered opening without hesitation.

Glass shards exploded outward.

I leapt into the dark, rain-soaked night.

Behind me, Killian's voice ripped through the storm. "Cynthia!"

But it was too late.

The rain drenched me in seconds, washing away the clown paint on my skin and the last fragile bond between us.

I shielded my abdomen and ran barefoot across the muddy lawn.

The cramps grew sharper with every step. I knew I would not last much longer.

But I had to run.

Not to save my own life.

But to take this unborn child farther away from the nightmare named Killian Ashford.

The rain fell harder and harder.

I plunged into the endless darkness of the border forest.

I left the grand estate behind. I left the man I had loved for ten years behind. Forever.

The rain lashed against me like an icy whip.

I had no idea how long I had been running. My legs were numb, moving only on raw survival instinct.

A tearing cramp ripped through my abdomen.

The poison from that bottle of liquor was finally taking hold.

A metallic sweetness rose in my throat. Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision.

I tripped over a tree root and crashed into a patch of muddy thorns. Spikes tore through my skin. Blood mixed with rain and dirt.

So cold.

So much pain.

My consciousness began to fade.

Was this how I would die? Rotting in the mud like a stray dog?

Killian's cold face flashed through my mind.

"Cynthia, the blood of a murderer runs through your veins. It disgusts me."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Maybe death would be easier.

No more atonement. No more humiliation. No more facing the man who had shattered my heart.

I closed my eyes in despair and let the darkness swallow me.

Just as my heart was about to stop—a powerful surge of warmth exploded from deep within my abdomen.

My baby?

My eyes flew open in disbelief.

A brilliant golden light shone through my belly, piercing the filthy clown costume and blazing against the black night.

It was warm. Dominant. Radiating the aura of a king.

The light wrapped around me and forcibly drove the alcohol poisoning from my body.

Then a young yet commanding wolf's howl echoed through my soul.

"Awhoo!"

Under the golden glow, the phantom of a massive white wolf appeared.

Its fur was snow-white. Its golden eyes burned with fury. It lowered its head and brushed its muzzle gently against my cheek. Then it turned and roared into the storm.

The rain was forced back by its aura, creating a barrier of still air around us.

The Royal White Wolf.

Tears burst from my eyes.

The legend was true. Only the purest ancestral bloodline bore a White Wolf spirit companion. And it could protect its host even before birth.

Killian was a blind fool.

The 'bastard' he had tried to kill with that liquor was, in fact, the only White Wolf King born in a century—his own strongest heir.

"My baby…"

I cupped my heated abdomen, tears streaming down my face.

"Did you save me? You're angry too, aren't you?"

The White Wolf spirit looked at me with a lingering affection, then dissolved into starlight and sank back into my body.

Strength flooded my limbs.

I gritted my teeth and pulled myself out of the mud.

I could not die.

I wiped the mud from my face and looked toward the distant, brightly lit estate.

"Killian, look carefully. You failed to kill me tonight. From now on, I'll be your nightmare."

Cradling my abdomen, fueled by that golden power, I plunged deeper into the forest.

This was not an escape.

It was rebirth.