When I regained my composure, Taylor Medina’s grip was already around my wrist, his claws digging into my skin like a vice. His eyes burned with fury, the kind that could only come from an Alpha who believed he had been wronged.

“Eden Mendez,” he growled, his Alpha tone low and commanding, “you pushed Louise into the water just because I’ve chosen her as my mate? I never thought you could be so cruel.”

Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. For a moment, Taylor’s grip loosened, as if he was momentarily stunned by my reaction. But then Louise coughed weakly, her scent—vanilla with a hint of rosemary—wrapping around him like a plea.

“Taylor,” she whispered, her voice dripping with false sincerity, “don’t blame Eden… she must not have meant it.”

Taylor immediately released my wrist and turned to Louise, his hands gentle as he helped her sit up. “Louise, you’re too kind. Someone like Eden deserves to be punished for what she’s done.”

My legs threatened to give out beneath me, but I forced myself to stand tall. I pointed to the painting lying on the ground, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “Taylor, what if I told you she was the one who threw my mother’s painting into the lake?”

Louise’s face flickered with panic for a split second before she quickly recovered. She tugged at Taylor’s sleeve, her scent thickening with desperation. “Taylor, it was one of the omegas in my household. They didn’t mean to, and I’ve already punished them…”

I stared at the two of them, my heart breaking all over again. In my past life, Taylor had been so good to me, so kind. It was that memory that made the pain unbearable now. Even though I knew he had marked Louise, even though I wanted nothing to do with him anymore, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

“Taylor,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “even if you don’t love me, even if you’ve chosen her, can’t you just… help me this once?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Taylor’s expression softened for a moment, but then Louise let out another delicate cough, and his attention was immediately drawn back to her, her scent pulling him in like a magnet.

“Eden,” he said, his Alpha tone cold and final, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I clenched my fists, the mate bond between us screaming in protest, but I said nothing. There was no point. Taylor had made his choice, and it wasn’t me.

When I mentioned my mother’s painting, Taylor's expression softened slightly.

I knew he was remembering the time when the Medina Pack had fallen into ruin.

Back then, Taylor had been stripped of his Alpha authority, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. He was consumed by despair, drowning himself in whiskey night after night. The pack’s funds were drained, and even the loyal Omegas abandoned us.

One night, Taylor drank himself into a stupor and didn’t wake for three days. Terrified, I sold my mother’s painting—her most cherished possession—to afford a healer for him.

Later, when the pack recovered and I managed to buy the painting back, Taylor was both shocked and remorseful. He almost knelt before me, swearing his gratitude.

He was moved that I had loved him enough to sacrifice something so precious.

And he was angry at himself for letting his grief consume him.

For a while, after that, Taylor treated me with unparalleled tenderness.

I believed we were bound by more than just the mate bond—that we truly loved each other.

But that was before Louise Bennett.

Now, I clung to the last shred of hope, desperate for Taylor to show some semblance of the man I once thought he was.

Taylor’s guilt flickered across his face.

“Louise didn’t mean to,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll find someone to restore the painting for you.”

Before he could finish, Louise suddenly collapsed, her body going limp.

Taylor’s eyes widened, and he turned to rush to her side.

I stepped in front of him, my chest heaving like a broken bellows, my voice trembling with rage.

“She destroyed my mother’s painting. She doesn’t get to walk away!”

Taylor’s expression darkened, and he shoved me aside, his Alpha tone cutting through the air like a blade.

“Eden, it’s just a painting! I can get you a hundred more! But if you’re willing to risk Louise’s life over something so trivial, you’re even more selfish than I thought.”

I stood frozen, his words like claws to my heart.

Mom, I whispered silently, tears blurring my vision. I was wrong.

No matter what I do, I’ll never be enough in his eyes.

Not when Louise is there.

And just like that, my heart shattered into pieces.

I fell ill.

Holding the dried-up paints and brushes, I collapsed in the spring.

Outside the window, clusters of withered flowers hung like dead weight, their lifeless forms a stark reminder of my own state.

Sometimes, I felt those sickly blooms were me—fragile, broken, and fading.

The flowers were dying, and so was I.

My mother’s painting, her last keepsake, was gone, and with it, my spirit seemed to wither away.

Day after day, I counted the hours, waiting for my message to reach Lawson, my mentor and closest ally in the Oliver Pack.

When would he arrive in the city?

Sometimes, I would count for what felt like an eternity, only for my attendant to tell me it had only been a day.

Finally, a message came from Lawson:

“I’ll arrive in seven days. I’ve met a friend along the way who’s skilled in restoring paintings.”

By my calculations, he’d be here tomorrow.

And that friend of his might just be the one to save my mother’s painting!

With renewed determination, I packed the painting and supplies into a chest, carefully arranging each item.

That night, a fire broke out in the Bennett estate.

The rest of the estate was untouched, but the flames engulfed the quarters of the two young mates, Louise and her sister.

The fire raged with an intensity that left everyone shaken.

The sickly flowers outside my window reflected the blaze, their branches consumed by the flames.

As I watched them burn to ashes, I felt as though I, too, had been reborn.