The auction began. Famous painting after famous painting appearing on stage. I barely paid attention until my mother's painting was brought out.

"The next piece is 'Prayer Under the Moonlight.' Starting bid, five hundred thousand!"

The auctioneer's gavel rang out.

I immediately raised my paddle. "Six hundred thousand."

"Eight hundred thousand." Clara's voice rang out from the VIP section, as casual as if she were just making small talk about the weather.

"One million." I pushed on, gritting my teeth, sweat in my palms.

"One million and five hundred thousand." Clara was still perfectly at ease, even giving me a little smile.

My hand trembled. That amount was already past my limit.

People around us started to whisper, all drawn in by the bidding war. Some were guessing at our identities, others were discussing the painting's origins.

"This bidding war is quite exciting! Both of them must really want this piece."

"I heard it's from an old, prominent werewolf family."

"Two million." Clara raised her paddle with elegance, turning and smiling at me. "Why don't you give up, Aurora? It's just a dead woman's junk. Is it really worth it?"

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. This wasn't junk. It was my mother's most treasured painting.

The auctioneer began to count down, "Two million, going once… Going twice…"

"Wait!" I shot to my feet, turning toward Damian, sitting in the back row.

Only then did his gaze finally fall on me. Swallowing my pride, I stumbled over and grabbed his sleeve with trembling hands.

"Lend me money," I said quietly, almost pleading. "Please, I'm begging you."

Those words drained everything from me. I had never begged anyone for anything in my entire life.

I was Aurora. I had never bowed my head to anyone. Yet, I was willing to give up all my dignity for my mother's keepsake.

Damian looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes. He slowly reached for his black card.

"Damian!" Clara burst over, tears in her eyes as she grabbed his hand. "You can't help her go against me!"

She started crying instantly.

"I really love this painting, Damian, please."

Damian's hand froze in midair.

I watched him, desperately waiting for his choice.

For a second, I almost believed that maybe this time, he would choose me. Maybe, just once, he would stand by my side.

After a long silence, he slowly pulled his hand back.

He didn't even look at me, and said quietly, "Let her have it."

In that instant, my entire world collapsed.

"Two million, third and final call! Sold!" The auctioneer's gavel slammed down, every strike pounding into my chest.

I watched as Clara claimed the painting, despair almost spilling out of my eyes.

After the auction ended, I blocked Clara's path.

"What do you want for the painting?" My voice was hoarse. "I'll pay you three times the price. Six million."

Clara tilted her head, pretending to think. "I don't want money. Money means nothing to me."

"Then what do you want?"

"Alright, then. I want you to admit in front of everyone that your talent in design is fake," Clara said.

People nearby started to whisper among themselves.

She didn't stop there.

"And I want you to grovel at my feet and apologize. Admit that you've bullied me your whole life," she added, her smile sickly sweet.

Everyone stopped to watch. Several people pulled out their phones, eager to record.

I closed my eyes. My knees started to buckle. For my mother's only keepsake, I was willing to give up even my last shred of pride.

Just as I was about to kneel, Clara suddenly started laughing.

"Oh, I forgot to mention! I already shredded the painting. Why would I ever keep something like that? What a shame! It was such a beautiful painting, too, but it belonged to a dead woman. You'll never get it back."

Time seemed to freeze.

All sound disappeared, except for the sound of my own heart shattering.

My mother's last work, destroyed by this cruel woman.

Her pale face flashed through my mind. That painting was her favorite.

But now…

Before I even realized it, I grabbed a heavy silver trophy from the table and smashed it down onto Clara's arm.

"Ah!" Clara's scream echoed through the auction hall.

Blood instantly soaked Clara's white dress. Her right arm was broken, and she curled up on the ground in pain.

I looked at her calmly as she lay in a pool of blood.

"I prefer to have my revenge on the spot. That's just who I am." My voice was eerily calm. "You always have to pay the price if you destroy something that someone treasures."

Guests around us gasped, stepping back in shock. Some people shrieked while others started recording on their phones, and a growing crowd whispered anxiously.

"Oh my god, she actually hit her!"

"That was a silver trophy… Do you know how bad that is for werewolves?"

"Clara's arm is ruined!"

I ignored all of it and left that suffocating room. Then, heavy footsteps pounded behind me.

"Aurora!"

Damian's voice thundered with a rage I had never heard from him before.

I stopped and turned around slowly.

He was marching toward me from the crowd. A small, expensive vial of healing potion in his hand. It was clearly meant for Clara.

There was fire in his eyes—a fury I had never seen before.

"Why did you hurt her?!" He grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard it felt like he would break my bones. I looked at him, a bitter smile forming inside.

I forced my voice to stay steady. "She destroyed my mother's painting."

"Even if she did, you can't hurt her!" Damian snapped at me. "She's always been so fragile! Do you even know what silver can do to her?"

That was the final straw. The thing that broke me completely.

So, it didn't matter what she did, or how much she had hurt me. In his heart, Clara would always be the one who couldn't be touched, the precious treasure.

And I? I was always the troublemaker who never matured.

Damian let go of me and rushed to Clara, immediately checking on her injury.

"Does it hurt?" His voice was full of concern. "Don't be scared. I'll fix it."

Clara leaned weakly against him, tears streaming down her face. "It hurts, Damian. Is my hand ruined?"

"It won't be. I won't let anything happen to you." Damian carefully poured the potion on her wound.

I stood there, watching it all, feeling everything inside me turn to ice.

"Get security," Damian ordered his men, not even looking back at me. "Lock Aurora up in the isolation cell for attacking a pack member."

The isolation cell.

It was where the Pack punished criminals who broke laws. The walls were made of pure silver. It could bring great harm to the werewolves inside.

If one were lucky, one would get away with rotting skin. If not, one might end up with neurological damage.

"Damian…" I tried to speak, but his cold eyes silenced me.

"That's enough," he said, his voice cold. "You have to face the consequences this time."

Two Pack Guards came over and locked silver cuffs around my wrists. The instant the cold metal touched my skin, the searing pain made me shudder.

As I was dragged away, I looked back one last time. Damian was still holding Clara, taking her for medical help—he never once looked at me.

As if I had never mattered at all.

The heavy silver door into the isolation cell clanged shut. Silver walls glared under the lights, and even the air itself felt full of something that made every werewolf's skin crawl.

Those three days in the cell were the worst days I had ever known.

I slid down the freezing wall, letting the silver cuffs bite deep into my wrists, leaving bloody marks.

I lost all sense of time, until I heard footsteps from outside.

A group of unfamiliar Pack Guards burst in, eyes full of malice.

"So this is the one who hurt Miss Clara?"

"She doesn't look like much."

I got to my feet, staying wary, but the silver cell had sapped my strength.

"Who sent you?" I asked weakly.

"Alpha Damian, of course. He said you needed some punishment," the leader replied.

I couldn't believe it. Even if he wanted to punish me, I never thought he'd go this far. But I couldn't think anymore as the pain overcame my senses.

The first punch slammed into my stomach, making me bend over.

Then came the second, the third…

I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound.

"Still trying to act tough?" one of them sneered. "Let's see how long you last."

I lost track of how many blows I took. Eventually, I collapsed on the floor, blood dripping from my lips and staining the silver floor.

Three days later, Damian finally came to let me out.

"Did you learn your lesson this time?"

That familiar voice echoed through the door.

I looked up, and saw Damian standing there with vision blurred, his voice colder than ever.

After I left the isolation cell, my injuries were so severe that I fainted on the spot. When I woke up, Damian was sitting beside my hospital bed. He looked tired.

"How are you feeling?" His tone was calm, as if nothing had happened at all.

I stared at him in silence, refusing to answer.

The silver had ravaged my body. My throat was so painful I could barely make a sound. And honestly, I didn't want to speak at all.

"Aurora, I want to ask you a question." Damian frowned, clearly irritated by my silence.

Still, I said nothing, just gazing out the window.

The tension in the room grew thick.

Just then, I heard a healer call out in the hallway.

"Alpha Damian! Clara is screaming she's in pain again!"

Damian got up right away, not even looking at me.

"Think about what you've done," he said before rushing out of the room.

Clara sent me messages every day about how Damian was taking care of her. I ignored them all.

Three days later, the doctor told me I could be discharged. As I was packing, the door was slowly pushed open.

Clara stepped in, wearing a hospital gown and thick bandages on her right arm, looking as delicate and pitiful as ever.

"Aurora, you're leaving already?" Her voice was just as sweet as always.

I ignored her, focusing on packing my things.

"Did you know?" Clara came over, voice full of pride. "Damian spent three million hiring the best healer for me. He said he wouldn't leave even a single scar on my hand. Not even a little."

My hands paused for a second, then kept moving.

"Oh, I forgot. You were locked up in the isolation cell thanks to his personal orders. That must have been rough, huh?" Clara said with fake concern. "Getting beaten up isn't fun, is it? All I had to do was mention that I wanted you to suffer a little."

She crouched down in front of me, staring me straight in the eyes. "Want to know why? Why does Damian never hesitate to believe me over you?"

I stopped whatever I was doing and coldly gazed back at her.

"That's because…" Clara's smile turned even brighter. "Damian and I have known each other since we were kids. We understand each other better than anyone.

"When I was fifteen, right before we almost got together, I was attacked while protecting him. After that, I had to go abroad for treatment. That's the only reason we were apart. He has always been concerned about me, and he'd personally come to check on my status every year."

Her smile turned cruel as she continued, "Do you really think you mattered? You are just a replacement."

I clenched my fists, barely holding myself together.

"Now that I'm back, it won't be long before I become the official Luna of the Blackmoon Pack," Clara said smugly. "And you? You were destined to only be a guest in all of this."

Then she slipped right back into her sweet, innocent act. "But in all honesty, I should thank you."

"Thank me?" My voice was rough and hoarse.

"Yes. If you hadn't always been stirring up trouble, Damian wouldn't have realized who he really cared about." Clara smiled sweetly. "Every time you caused something, he just pitied me even more. Poor, innocent me. And did you know? I was the one who suggested Damian talk to your father about disciplining you."

My blood ran cold.

"I told Damian that my stepfather's daughter was bullying me, and maybe he could help teach you a lesson." Clara's grin stretched even wider. "He agreed right away. Imagine that."

"He disciplined you so well… Dragging you into his bed and making you fall for him without even trying. I was angry at first, but then I found this."

Clara pulled a small camera from her bag.

"Turns out, to discipline you better, Damian installed this in your room. All the footage goes straight to his private computer. I'm sure he has already saved every intimate video of you two locked away somewhere safe."

She kept gloating.

"He was sleeping with you so he could hand me all those recordings if I ever needed leverage to strike back."

I could feel the world spinning and my ears ringing.

"After all, you're so proud. If I'm holding your private videos, would you ever dare go against me?"

With that, Clara stood up and straightened her gown.

"Well, I should get going. Damian's waiting for me to have lunch."

She smiled, then left, quietly closing the door behind her.

My hands shook as I called for a car to the manor.

An hour later, I stood in front of Damian's study on the second floor. The room he had never allowed me to enter.

I pushed open the door and walked to the only computer inside. My hands trembled as I turned it on. When I clicked on the folder marked with a date on the desktop, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees.

The screen was filled with videos of me and Damian.

Moments I thought belonged to just the two of us in memories, now all captured and stored.

Different angles, different times, like a carefully edited documentary.

So…

Everything had been a lie from the very beginning.