The party was in full swing as I sat alone in a corner.

Damian moved effortlessly through the crowd, blocking drinks for Clara while bringing her food. He was so considerate that it made me burn with jealousy.

I had never enjoyed that kind of consideration and tenderness from him.

I raised my glass and drank it all in one gulp, letting the alcohol sear my nerves.

Suddenly, someone suggested a traditional Werewolf game.

"Let's play Fate's Choice!" The host waved an ancient crystal ball overhead. "Let the crystal show us the way!"

The rules were simple. The crystal ball would randomly show someone's image and ask a question. Whoever was chosen had to answer honestly. It was an old tradition among werewolves, and no one could refuse.

In the first round, an image of Damian appeared in the crystal ball. His face was as clear as day.

"Respected Alpha Damian, if you found yourself in danger, who would you want by your side?" the host asked in an expectant tone.

Clara and another girl's image appeared on the crystal's surface.

My heart started to race, my palms sweaty. The whole room went quiet, waiting.

Damian glanced at the crystal, then at the crowd.

"Clara," he said, without hesitation.

The room erupted in cheers and applause. Clara blushed, looking down shyly.

I gripped my glass so tightly my knuckles turned white.

In the second round, the crystal picked Damian again.

"If you could choose one person to spend your life with, who would it be?"

"Clara." Still no hesitation.

In the third round, the question cut even deeper. "If you could only save one person's life, who would you choose?"

This time, it was my photo and Clara's together.

Damian hesitated for a few seconds. I saw his brows draw together, like he was genuinely thinking about the question.

But in the end, he still said, "Clara."

My heart crashed. It felt like the whole world was laughing at my foolishness.

The game continued, and for three more rounds, the crystal picked Damian.

"Who do you trust most?"

"Who do you most want to protect?"

"Who is most important to you?"

Each time, he picked Clara without a hint of doubt.

Each answer was like a slap across my face.

Meanwhile, I was completely ignored like I was invisible. It was as if I didn't even exist to him.

"I need to go to the washroom," I said as I stood up, my voice trembling as I clung to the last shreds of dignity.

The hallway was quiet, only distant music and laughter reaching me. I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself. I kept telling myself to stay calm.

"Well, well, what's a pretty thing like you doing here alone?"

A few unfamiliar male voices echoed from around the corner.

I looked up to see a group of Betas from a rival Pack. Their eyes were hostile, and they reeked of alcohol.

"Stay away," I warned coldly, my hand instinctively reaching for the silver dagger strapped to my thigh.

"Don't be so ferocious. Aren't you that famous designer? How about you come see my new art collection?" A tall man reached for me.

I backed away quickly and drew my dagger. "Last warning. Back off, or you'll regret it."

At that moment, I glanced toward the entrance, silently wishing for someone to help.

Damian was right at the ballroom doors, turning just in time to see what was happening.

Our eyes met. Mine were full of silent pleading, certain he would come to my rescue, just like before.

He noticed immediately, his body leaning forward as if he was about to come to me.

But then, behind him, Clara's panicked voice rang out. "Damian! My injury hurts again! It really hurts!"

Without a second thought, Damian turned and hurried to Clara, his eyes filled with worry. Before leaving, he turned to his Beta, Marcus, and said, "Don't worry about her. She can handle herself."

At that moment, it felt like my whole world crumbled.

Fury and despair exploded in my chest. I lunged and stabbed the arm of the nearest man with my silver blade.

"Ah!" He howled as the dagger's poison took effect, dropping him to the ground in agony.

The others scattered, and I took the chance to escape.

Afterward, I sat alone on the terrace, drinking in silence. My mood was completely ruined. The wind at night was cold, stinging my face.

"Don't drink so quickly or you'll end up drunk," Clara's voice drifted over as she approached, carrying a glass of fruit juice. "I was out of line just now, Sister. Don't get mad, okay?"

"It's fine," I replied icily.

"Don't. We're family," Clara said, putting on a show of concern as she stepped closer. "Besides, I wanted to tell you something."

I looked at her coldly. "Don't call me sister. I've never been family to you."

She snapped, unable to keep up the act, "Don't think you've won anything! In the end, you're the one who's been abandoned—by Dad and by Damian."

Her words hurt me deep, but I had no energy left to argue. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a sharp crack overhead.

I looked up. One of the heavy metal racks above the terrace was coming loose. It was about to fall!

In that split second, Damian burst out of the ballroom. Without hesitation, he threw himself over Clara, shielding her with his body.

And I was standing directly beneath the rack as it crashed down.

There was a loud bang, and I was pinned right under the edge of the rack.

My senses were slowly disappearing as I lay in a pool of blood and pain.

Memories of Damian and me flashed through my mind like scenes from a movie.

The first time we met, I charged at him like an angry little pup, and he easily subdued me. The first time I was overwhelmed by his Alpha scent, I was lost in him completely.

The shy morning after we first spent the night together. The gentle way he held me during stormy nights. The nights he stayed up taking care of me when I was sick. How I secretly prepared for the bonding ceremony, filled with hope and excitement…

Every memory was so clear, every detail carved deep into my memory.

But in the end, all those beautiful moments were shattered by reality.

My last memory froze on that final scene. He shielded Clara without hesitation, while I was left pinned beneath the falling rack.

So that was how things were. When it truly mattered, his instincts would always drive him to protect her, not me.

Through the haze, I heard the wail of an ambulance, Clara's sobbing, and Damian's panicked shouting.

But none of it seemed to matter anymore.

Then, everything faded to black.

When I woke, it was already noon the next day. The hospital ward was quiet except for the steady beeping of machines.

"You're finally awake!" The nurse let out a sigh of relief. "You took a blow to the head, but luckily, your life isn't in danger."

I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my whole body. My left shoulder was especially painful. Slowly, everything came back. It felt like last night's events had just happened.

Then, I heard familiar voices through a thin curtain.

"It's all my fault. If only I'd reacted faster..." Clara's voice was thick with tears and guilt as she sobbed.

"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself," Damian said, his voice gentler than I had ever heard. "You've always had a weak constitution. If I had to do it all over again, I'd still save you first."

That sentence was like a blade, cutting deep into my heart.

Even if he had to choose again, he would still choose her.

He was so clear about it. So certain. No hesitation.

"But Aurora got hurt..." Clara sounded even more upset.

"She'll be fine. The doctor said it's just some external injuries," Damian reassured her. "But you're different. You can't afford any accidents."

I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stay silent.

Tears slid down my cheeks, soaking the pillow.

So this was my place in his heart. I could be sacrificed, because I would be "fine."

"It's okay. Don't cry anymore," Damian continued softly. "Go rest, don't wear yourself out."

Footsteps came closer, and the curtain slid open. Damian appeared at my bedside, still looking worried, but the moment he saw I was awake, that worry turned into something more complicated.

"You're awake?" He sat beside the bed, reaching out to check my forehead. "How do you feel?"

I avoided his hand, meeting his eyes calmly. "Thank you for saving me. I'll pay you back for the hospital bill in two weeks."

Damian's hand froze midair, and he frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He seemed thrown off by my strange calm, a flicker of confusion and concern in his eyes. Why did I keep saying "two weeks"?

"Aurora, you…"

He looked completely at a loss, unsettled by how I was acting.

In the past, I would have cried, demanded answers, and become hysterical. Now, I didn't want to do anything at all.

Loving someone...was really exhausting.

"I'll stay here and look after you," he said, sitting down.

But just then, his phone rang.

"Alpha, Clara's foundation website is under attack. Sensitive data could be leaked," his personal assistant said anxiously through the receiver.

Damian's expression changed instantly as he stood up at once.

"I have an urgent matter to take care of," he said, glancing at me. "I'll come see you later."

He left quickly, not even looking back.

Clara again.

It was always Clara.

I stared at the closed door, my heart a mess of complicated emotions.

I shut my eyes and let the tears fall.

"Miss Aurora? Are you alright?" The nurse's voice snapped me out of my daze.

I opened my eyes to see blood backing up in the IV line. A stark, dark red blood was backing up against the tubing, and it was quite scary.

"How long has it been like this?" My voice was hoarse.

"About seven hours." The nurse replaced the IV carefully, her tone cautious. "Why wasn't anyone watching you? Your arm is already swollen. Luckily, there's no infection."

"Where's your Alpha mate?"

"He's not my mate," I answered flatly.

Seven hours.

I closed my eyes, a bitter, almost mocking smile tugging at my lips.

"Thank you, I can manage myself." I pulled out the IV and walked out of my ward, ignoring the nurse's protests.

The hallway was busy with people coming and going.

"Did you hear? The Blackmoon Group's Alpha pulled out all the stops for Miss Clara last night. He called in every tech team. It was all over the news."

"They mobilized their best legal and PR teams, just to protect one foundation?"

"It's for Clara, though. She's the Alpha's favorite, you know."

The gossip at the nurse's station made me stop in my tracks. So, during those seven hours after he left, Damian had been busy working for Clara.

I drifted toward the elevators, numb, desperate to leave this place that smelled of disinfectant.

Somehow, I ended up outside Blackmoon Group's headquarters. It was just a short walk from the hospital.

Through the glass of the main lobby, I saw a scene that made my chest ache.

Damian was gently handing Clara a cup of coffee. My father sat next to her, chatting warmly with Clara, a softness in his eyes I'd never seen directed at me.

The three of them sat together on the couch, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, wrapping them in a golden glow.

The sight stung so much I had to turn away. I couldn't bear to see that a second time. Tears rolled down freely.

"Aurora," I told myself quietly as I walked away, "Who are you crying for? No one cares about you. Don't cry!"

Damian didn't show up after that.

I finished my treatment alone in silence. Once I had fully recovered, I was planning to leave the hospital.

At the front entrance, I ran into Damian. He looked tired, but his mood seemed good. Clara was clearly doing fine now.

"Get in the car." His tone left no room for argument and was filled with threat.

I didn't budge. "I'm going home."

"Home?" He gave a cold laugh, grabbing my wrist. "Or do you want them to target you again?"

After being shoved into the car, he handed me a tablet as he started the car. "A catalog for one of the top art galleries. Lots of masterpieces. I'm taking you out for a walk to clear your head. You've been holed up in there for too long."

I flipped through the catalog absently, barely paying attention. Suddenly, on page seventeen, a familiar painting caught my eye. It was one of my mother's last works.

My mother had been an artist, and that painting was her favorite.

After Elena married into our family, she claimed that "the deceased's belongings will bring misfortune" and forced my father to get rid of everything my mother left behind.

I thought that painting was destroyed. I never imagined it would show up at an auction.

"How much is this?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

Damian glanced over. "The starting bid is five hundred thousand. The estimated selling bid is around two million."

Two million… Even if I sold all my jewelry, I could barely scrape together one million and five hundred thousand.

At the auction, I unexpectedly ran into Clara.

She wore an elegant white outfit, laughing and mingling with a group of art collectors.

As soon as she saw us come in, she made a beeline for us.

"Aurora! I told Damian I wanted to apologize, and I can't believe he brought you here. I know I was wrong that day. Will you forgive me?"

I looked at Damian, but he just kept flipping through the auction catalog in silence.

So that was the real reason for this trip. So Clara could apologize. The whole “clearing my head” excuse had just been a cover.

I felt empty inside, as if something inside me had been hollowed out, but I didn't even have any tears left to cry.

Clara reached for my hand, her eyes full of regret. "I really didn't mean to hurt you. I was just so excited. After being away so long, it's nice seeing everyone again, and I can't help but feel happy about it."

I pulled my hand away. "Are you done apologizing?"

Clara bit her lip, her voice trembling, almost about to cry. "I really do want to be your friend. We're family, aren't we?"

"Friend? Family?" I let out a cold laugh. "You think you deserve that?"

The auction was about to begin. I found a seat in the corner as I clutched my bidding paddle tightly.

This was my last chance.