Last year, a week after Elric’s 11th birthday, he stopped Eddy at his office—right before his father leave with Trista.

“Dad, can’t you see? She’s trying to poison Mom!” Elric’s voice rang from Eddy’s study.

Instinct took over as I rushed in. I saw his small stature facing Eddy and Trista, fist clenched in fury. Rage was leaking out from his body as he waited Eddy reading the document on his desk.

I moved to shield my only son with my body. My heart pounded in my chest, and my eyes darted to Eddy, wary of his next move. Trista, beside his chair was initially smiling but soon her face paled.

“E-eddy! I didn’t know about this!” Trista’s voice cracked with anguish, her tears falling freely. “Eddy, I swear, I didn’t know the candles I bought was made with wolfsbane!”

“Lies!” Elric's puppy growl echoed through the room, his voice tinged with the raw power of his wolf form.

My concern deepened as I noticed Elric’s partial transformation. His young body had never been able to handle the strain, and I feared he’d be bedridden for days again if he fully shifted.

The tension in Eddy’s study was palpable, as my husband stepped forward.

Eddy stood up, holding a protective stance shielding Trista as if to anticipate Elric's advance. "If she says she didn’t know, then she didn’t know. What proof do you have to say otherwise, Son?"

"But, Dad!” Elric protested.

Eddy placed down the document from his desk. “I applaud you for looking for scientific evidence through hospital lab test.” He looked at Elric coldly. “But that document doesn’t say anything that Trista know about the substance.”

Eddy then called for his assitant, “Gareth, tell the servants to get rid of all scented candle in the house.”

“Sir.” Gareth bowed and took his mobile phone to contact the head servant.

“Meeting is about to start, let’s go, Trista,” Eddy said simply and left the room with just the two of us.

Elric wept that day, tears of frustration and self-blame coursing down his cheeks.

But even in that moment, as I looked back, I saw a strength in him that I had overlooked—his resolve shining through despite the trembling of his shoulders, despite the tears that marked his face. He had stood tall, like the silent warrior hero in his favorite cartoon, defending his pack until the bitter end.

*

But now...

As I stood by Elric’s hospital bed, my heart ached with a pain that words couldn’t capture.

My strong, brave son was laying motionless. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the sterile room, each beep a painful reminder of how close I had come to losing him.

His hand, connected to the IV, seemed so still, so lifeless. But then, a flicker—a slight movement of his fingers, as if he sensed my desperate plea for him to wake.

Elric had stirred earlier, just for a moment, opening his eyes before slipping back into the depths of unconsciousness. I clung to that moment, praying to the Goddess that he would find his way back to us once more.

Thank the Moon Goddess, She listened to my wishes…

"Hey, Elric. How are you feeling?" I asked softly as I took his hand in my palm, my heart aching at the sight of him so vulnerable.

Groggily, he shifted on his elevated hospital bed, lifting the hand connected to the IV. "Terrible," he chuckled, a spark of humor flickering in his eyes despite his condition.

I smiled, taking his hand in mine, but my expression faltered as I felt the fever burning on his skin. Before I could say anything, Elric spoke up.

"Why weren’t you at the Central Hospital, Mom?" he sighed, his voice tinged with exasperation yet weak. "You know you needed the inhibitor to stabilize your scent gland."

I smiled again, touched by his concern. Despite his own struggles, Elric's strength and care for me shone through.

Just as Elric had said, my scent gland was severely damaged. Around the fifth year of Trista’s frequent visits to the Winslow manor, I began to develop prolonged flu-like symptoms that wouldn’t go away.

It was Elric who insisted that I see a doctor, his concern outweighing his young age.

To avoid media attention, I sought out a specialist I trusted—Uncle Devon, my father’s younger brother. Through months of various tests, we discovered that my scent gland was severely damaged, causing unending respiratory issues that left me weak and vulnerable.

The next thing I knew, Elric had secretly taken one of Trista’s scented candles from my room. To my surprise, he had handed it over to Uncle Devon’s lab team for testing. For a boy almost reaching ten, his resourcefulness and determination genuinely astonished me.

The results were shocking.

The candle contained a subtle yet potent blend of chemicals designed to damage scent glands. It was a weapon disguised in the most innocuous form, a sinister plot hidden in plain sight.

The results were shocking: the candle contained potent wolfsbane essence.

Backed with the data, Elric confronted his father and Trista, revealing that the candles were harmful to werewolves and that my coughing was caused by them.

Trista denied knowing that actual wolfsbane was inside the candles. Meanwhile, Eddy, ever her biggest supporter, believed her without question. He simply suggested that discarding the candles from the manor would solve everything.

But no, simple treatment wouldn’t work on me. I had to take anti-inflamatory inhibitor designed for damaged scent glands.

“Cough!”

A few coughs suddenly escaped my tightly sealed lips, breaking the tense silence that had filled the hospital room.

“Mom!” Elric interjected. Despite weakness, his voice laced with worry.

After the small coughs subsided, I managed a weak smile. “I’m alright, El.”

I took a deep breath, setting my hair aside as I gazed at my twelve-year-old son lying on the hospital bed. Gently, I pushed him back to bed and adjusted his blanket.

“You’re right. I do need my treatment. But I needed to see for myself that you’re alright first, sweetheart.”

I leaned in closer, my tone becoming more serious. “Why did you go to the hunt, El? Your fever spiked again last night.”

Elric averted his gaze, his index finger nervously rubbing his left knuckle. ““If I win, Dad promised he’d take care of us more, Mom.” he muttered, almost to himself.

He then looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and worry. “You’re sick, Mom. I might not understand everything, but Grandpa Devon showed me the numbers for your treatment!”

He scratched his cheek, a gesture he’d had since he was much younger, a sign of his frustration.

“And, Dad promised he’d stop wearing that bracelet if I made it to the top five.” He lifted his head, his sincerity piercing through his youth. “I just want us to be like before. Dad was so much happier back then, before insomnia turned his eyes into panda circles like now.”

I chuckled through the haze of my tears, a bittersweet release as they finally broke free. In that moment, I saw how Elric had been my constant shadow ever since Eddy had started drifting away. I had noticed the countless hours he spent with his notes and Uncle Devon—

but I hadn’t fully grasped the depth of his dedication.

I had been so consumed with making sure Eddy would at least continue to provided for Elric. I was so wrapped up in my own loneliness and struggle, that I failed to see the quiet sacrifices Elric was making.

Now, as I felt my son’s hand envelop mine, his voice was a gentle balm to my aching heart. “Mom, don’t cry,” he said softly, and I saw a tear slip down his cheek.

I wiped his tears away, my own voice trembling with regret. “I’m so sorry, Elric.” I paused, searching for the right words. “I should’ve listened to you better.”

“It’s okay, Mom!” Elric said, his tone surprisingly cheerful as he dabbed at his own tears. “What matters is that you’re listening to me now. And, by the way, you did listened to me before!”

His eyebrows perked up with a spark of excitement. “Oh, I know! Let’s go visit Grandma and Grandpa after this, Mom.” He leaned back into the elevated bed with a hopeful grin.

“It’s been ages since we last went to Duskhowl.”

There was a gentle light of acceptance in his eyes, a calmness that was almost unsettling. It was as if he had made peace with everything…

In a way that I wasn’t quite ready for.

I couldn’t find the words to respond, so I just nodded and told him to rest. “You recover first, alright, El? We’ll talk about it afterwards.”

Despite his weakened state, Elric nodded with a determined smile.

“Yeah!”

The moment I woke up, I saw Uncle Devon instead of Finn, the usual nurse he hired to take care of me at home. Uncle Devon stayed a bit longer in his guest room after hooking the IV into my vein.

My heart dropped the moment I could truly recognize his expression. The crease of his brows, the sad curve of his moustache.

Moreover, he was supposed to be at the hospital monitoring Elric instead of being here, in his house.

“Uncle…” I shook my head, not wanting my biggest fear to come true.

Uncle Devon took my other hand. His cold palm was a soothing build up to the news I knew he was about to say.

“I’m sorry, Sal. Elric is gone.”

I hung my head low as I clutched weakly on his hand. He then pulled me into an embrace and hug me tight. I cried even more and clutched on his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Sal. I know this is an incredibly painful time, and I’m here to support you through it.”

*

Alone, puffy-eyed, and numb to it all, I faced the heart-wrenching task of handling Elric’s cremation on my own.

The last thing I wanted was for the media to catch wind of this and drag me into a mess with Eddy or Trista—or worse, both. So, I pleaded with Uncle Devon to keep everything under wraps, promising I could manage with the last of my parents' inheritance.

After some persuasion, Uncle Devon agreed, on the condition that he hire me a professional chauffeur, Ridley, until the whole cremation process was complete.

It took five long days to arrange Elric's funeral since my body didn't exactly work like how I wanted it to ever since my scent gland got damaged.

Throughout those days, Eddy never once checked on me. Not that I expected him to. With his stubborn insistence that Elric was still alive the last time I met him, I wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from him as possible. So, I didn’t bother reaching out.

Just as I was about to delete all my social media accounts and tune out any news about Eddy, something caught my eye. A four-slide post from TrisGlam, Trista’s InstaPic account, appeared on my feed.

Trista was basking in a breathtaking view from the top of a tall building in the pack’s Central Metro.

In the first slide, it was a selfie of her, sporting a stunning pearl necklace—definitely not her usual style, but it looked pretty decent on her. As I swiped through, my heart clenched when I saw Eddy in one of the pictures. He stood a little distance away from Trista, chatting with a few people near a barbecue grill.

Beneath the pictures was a caption: [It was a fun experience! I learned a lot from these awesome people!]

I heaved a sigh before deactivating my account.

Once I had my son’s ashes temporarily stored in my room at Uncle Devon’s, I headed to the Winslow manor to pack up most of my things.

Hours passed, and I heard hurried footsteps racing past my door—a clear sign that Eddy had returned to the main manor.

Ignoring the small commotion outside, I continued packing. Just as I was about to close my suitcase, I hesitated, glancing at the blue case of documents I had prepared the day before.

However, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind me.

Eddy entered our bedroom, his expression as monotonous as ever. Yet, I sensed his surprise at the awkward silence that enveloped us as he stood by the door.

I closed my suitcase and pulled it down from the bed.

At that moment, I caught a whiff of wild cherries—Trista’s scent—lingering on Eddy. I shifted my gaze to him, my eyes landing on a small pure white box in his hand and the black bead and fang bracelet hanging loosely on his wrist.

At that moment, I remembered the first time Elric questioned Eddy’s bracelet. It was years ago, during a time of our family picnic in celebration to Elric’s Elementary Academy Graduation…

“Mom, since when did Dad start wearing that weird bracelet?” Elric asked with a frown, hinting his annoyance.

Eddy had just hurriedly excusing himself for some urgent matter, leaving us to picnic alone. As I watched his figure retreating into the distance, I began to pay more attention to the bracelet for the first time.

It hung loosely on his wrist, the black beads and fang glinting in the sunlight.

“Where are you going?”

A voice broke my daydream. I turned around, looking at the source of the voice.

It was Eddy, he had was already standing by the bedroom’s door.

"Away," I replied curtly. His face twisted with confusion and irritation.

"Oh, come on! Are you still mad about yesterday?" Eddy scoffed. "It's just a hunt festival, Sal. Get over it."

"Yesterday?" I spat back, my voice quivering with barely controlled rage. "It's been over a week, Ed!"

If it weren’t for that wretched hunt, Elric would’ve had more time to recover from his fever. He wouldn’t have been left exhausted and dehydrated. He wouldn’t have ended up in Uncle Devon’s clinic.

Most importantly, Elric would still be alive!

“Yesterday, last week, both are in the past. They’re the same. The hunt is over now so all those are in the past. Get over it,” Eddy said dismissively as he walked closer and shoved the box to my hand, barely sparing me a glance.

Unbelievable, how could he just brush it off like that?

“Here, for you.”

Eddy moved past me then, heading towards the vanity mirror and took off some of his accessories.

I stood there in silence, gripping the box, my fingers tracing the infinity logo embossed on top. It was from Eight Jewelry, an expensive brand. I could see dirt smudged the edges, and when I opened it, I immediately recognized the piece inside—

White pearl necklace, this was Trista’s secondhand jewelry.

It was the same exact necklace she flaunted on her InstaPic a few days ago.

“Where is that kid? I rang his phone this afternoon but he didn’t answer.” I heard Elric's voice, accompanied by a clattering sound. “Is he throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t even get into the top ten in the hunting event?”

I turned to Eddy with a smile that masked my seething thoughts. Deep down, I thanked him for giving me another push towards claiming my own freedom.

Eddy chuckled. “Why are you smiling like that? Rare to see that nowadays. You like the necklace that much?”

Without a word, I closed the box and tossed it carelessly onto the bed.

“Have you called your lawyer?” I asked, locking eyes with him. “I’m still waiting for our divorce.”

Eddy’s mood darkened. “Isn’t that necklace enough, Salvia? Stop throwing tantrums. Don’t you see our son has picked up that bad habit from you?”

At least, if you want to make it up to me, don’t give someone’s leftovers, I thought. But I kept silent, handing him a blue case of documents instead.

“Here,” I said, my voice steady. “Since I got the feeling that it might take forever to wait for you, I’ve asked for the necessary papers from the court.” I paused to take a breath. “I’ve signed everything I needed to. Now, it’s your turn.”

Eddy looked stunned, his eyes darting from my face to the divorce papers and back again.