I paused for a moment, then my expression smoothed over. I calmly reached out and took the file from Damine.

"It's nothing. Just a confirmation receipt from the Southern Sanctuary for their anti-silver toxin remedies. They must have mixed up the documents." My voice sounded perfectly normal.

A flicker of doubt appeared in Damine's amber eyes. He knew I never lied.

But at that moment, I lowered my eyelashes slightly, avoiding his direct gaze. This small movement felt off to him.

In the end, he pushed down his urge to question further, just raising his hand in a habitual gesture to ruffle my hair.

"Alright. I'm heading to the council chamber then. The patrol needs to inventory the new weapons confiscated tonight."

"Wait." I stopped him. I turned to the small wooden chest in the corner that held various herbs and ointments, rummaging through it until I found a ceramic jar engraved with the Stormfang Pack wolf crest.

It was a special ointment made by the pack's top healer, specifically for treating wounds caused by silver.

I walked behind him and gently tapped my finger on a spot on his tactical vest near his shoulder blade. "Yesterday when you were dealing with those poachers, some shattered silver fragments must have gotten caught in your clothes. Let me help you clean it out."

Damine's body tensed slightly. He reached back to touch his own back.

Last night, when he'd grabbed the silver dagger from the stocky poacher, he had indeed felt small fragments splatter against his back, leaving a faint stinging sensation.

But he was an Alpha, with powerful healing abilities.

He hadn't thought anything of it, assuming any wound had already healed. He never expected me to notice

I was always like that, paying attention to details he overlooked: knowing that while he wasn't afraid of thunder, the chaotic energy during thunderstorms made him instinctively irritable, so I'd hang thick pelts on the cottage windows to block the sound; knowing that after long hunts or patrols in wolf form, he liked a sip of warm honey wine brewed from the territory's special Blueflame berries, so I'd always have a small pot warming by the hearth before he returned.

He silently peeled off his black tactical vest and sat down on the bearskin-covered sofa as I'd instructed.

His back was to me. On his tanned skin, a shallow but distinctly unnatural grayish-white wound was visible—a lingering trace of the silver toxin.

I opened the ointment jar, dipping a clean brush in it to scoop up some of the dark green ointment that had a bitter scent. Carefully, I began applying it to his wound.

My movements were gentle and focused, trying to avoid causing him any additional pain.

Damine felt the cool touch on his back and the slight stinging from the ointment, but his mind uncontrollably drifted back to the parchment letter Michael had read at the bonfire.

The Wolf Mint he'd occasionally found in his training bag after morning workouts, easing his muscle aches; the excellent healing ointment that had appeared in his locker whenever he was injured... it had all been me.

It had always been me.

"Sylvia," he couldn't help but speak again, his voice deeper and huskier than usual, "about what was in that letter today..."

"The ointment needs to be spread evenly for the medicinal properties to penetrate, otherwise the silver toxin won't be completely cleared and might leave a scar."

My voice cut him off. My hand movements remained steady as I used the brush to carefully spread the ointment along the edges of the wound. "Next time you encounter enemies with silver weapons, try to avoid direct frontal impacts.

The healer said last time that the silver toxins building up in your system need time to metabolize... there won't always be someone around to help you deal with these things."

The last few words were so soft they were barely more than a whisper. Damine didn't seem to hear them, or perhaps his focus was still on the letter. He instinctively lifted his head to ask, "What did you just say?"

I shook my head, not repeating it. I simply sealed the ointment jar and put it back in the chest, then turned toward the bedroom. "Don't let the wound get wet. I'm tired. I'm going to rest."

The cottage was very quiet late at night, only the sound of wind rustling through the pine trees outside. I lay on the soft-pelted bed, my back to the room.

After a while, I heard Damine's footsteps as he came out of the bathroom.

He walked to the bedside, hesitated, and then, as he had on many nights over the past three years, habitually reached out to wrap his arms around my waist—a common gesture between bonded mates for comfort and connection, usually helping both sleep better.

However, the moment his arm brushed my side, I lightly but clearly shifted toward the center of the bed, avoiding his touch.

"I'm not feeling well tonight," my voice came from the darkness, calm and without emotion, "the effects of the blood moon probably haven't worn off yet. I want to rest alone."

Damine's arm froze mid-air. His fingertips still tingled with the cool feel of my sleepwear fabric. He was silent for a few seconds, then said nothing. He just reached out to straighten the blanket covering me.

"Alright. If you feel worse, call me anytime." His voice was low as he finished, then he turned and lay down on the other side of the bed.

The next morning, a thin mist still lingered in the forbidden forest when a commotion broke out outside the main house.

I was combing my hair when I heard the noise. Just as I was about to go out, I saw Sofia standing at the entrance with a few young wolves who were clearly not from Stormfang Pack.

In her arms, she held a large bundle of plants with strangely white-shining leaves, and a small gift wrapped in fine leather.

"Damine!" Sofia's voice was cheerful, ignoring the slight frown on Damine's face as he leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you so much for yesterday! I specially collected some Moonlight Grass from Moonbeam Valley for you. It's amazing for clearing silver toxins! And this, I brought back from outside—supposedly an essence that can enhance a werewolf's constitution. It's for you!"

Damine's gaze swept over the curious outsiders behind her, and his expression didn't improve.

According to pack rules, outsiders cannot enter another pack's core territory without invitation.

But when he saw the hopeful, almost pleading look in Sofia's eyes, the tight line of his jaw softened somewhat.

"Come on in." He stepped aside, his tone regaining its usual steadiness but with an undertone of indulgence, "Don't make a scene at the entrance."

Sofia beamed, like a child who's been given permission.

She turned and very naturally shoved the expensive bundle of Moonlight Grass into my hands. Her tone was commanding, as if it were absolute. "Here, this is Damine's favorite Moonlight Grass. Its scent is calming. Go hang it in the hunting trophy room, on that oak shelf with the best ventilation. Remember to let it get sunlight every day, don't let moisture ruin its effect."

"Sofia." Damine's voice turned cold in an instant. "I prefer the scent of pine and snow, not Moonlight Grass. And Sylvia is my bonded mate, the Luna of Stormfang Pack. Watch your tone. She isn't some servant you can order around."

I looked down at the bundle of Moonlight Grass in my hands. The cool leaves felt against my skin, carrying a faint, cloyingly sweet fragrance.

It wasn't until this moment that I finally understood why there was a perfectly positioned yet perpetually empty oak shelf in the hunting trophy room.

Last year, when I was helping him organize newly acquired trophies, I had casually asked about the shelf's purpose. He hadn't looked up from what he was doing as he answered, "The elders said to keep it empty. Maybe for ritual incense someday."

So that spot had always been waiting for Sofia to return, to hold these flashy Moonlight Grasses she liked.

I didn't say anything. My expression remained neutral. I simply handed the bundle to an Omega attendant standing nearby. "Hang this in the empty oak shelf on the east side of the trophy room. Follow the preservation guidelines for valuable herbs—turn it daily to ensure it gets enough sun."

My voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.

Sofia watched my back, a triumphant, challenging glint in her eyes. Then she quickly followed Damine into the trophy room.

I carried a cup of hot tea, freshly brewed with Blueflame berries, and walked to the small balcony connected to the trophy room.

The stone door to the balcony was slightly ajar. Their conversation drifted out clearly.

"Damine! Look! Isn't this my baby fang that I lost after my first successful hunt as a kid? You actually kept it in this crystal box! You've had it all this time?"

"And this! This lopsided wolf wood carving! I just made it and threw it away at the tribal market back then, and you actually picked it up?"

"Wow! This black bear fur rug! It's from the bear we hunted together on our first winter hunt, right? You actually made it into a rug and kept it here..."

Sofia's voice, filled with delight and a hint of coquettishness, was like tiny silver needles, pricking persistently at my ears.

I remembered when I had first moved into the main house, I had also asked Damine about these seemingly ordinary items in the trophy room that he had carefully preserved. He had been polishing the crystal box holding the wolf fang at the time, paused his movements, and replied flatly, "Just some old junk from when we were kids. Thought it had some sentimental value, so I kept it."

I had actually believed him back then.

I had even thought privately that despite being Alpha, he had a sentimental and delicate side.

Only now, hearing Sofia list the origin of each item as if she knew them by heart, did I finally understand completely.

Those items he had so carefully preserved, locked in crystal boxes, laid out on soft furs—they were all memories that belonged to Sofia.

All those complex emotions in his eyes that I had never been able to decipher—deep-seated attachment, the bitterness of being abandoned, an unbreakable nostalgia—they had always been about Sofia, and only Sofia. Not a single fragment of them had ever been for me, Sylvia.

As noon approached, Sofia suggested enthusiastically that they visit a natural hot spring on the edge of the territory.

It was said that the spring water contained special minerals that offered minor benefits for relieving muscle fatigue and residual silver toxin effects after battle.

"Damine, I heard the spring's energy has been really active lately. Great for healing wounds. Why don't we all go for a soak? Perfect way to relax." Sofia said, her gaze pointedly sweeping over me.

Damine looked at me, as if to ask my opinion or find an excuse to decline.

But Sofia didn't give him the chance. She stepped forward and latched onto his arm, half-pulling, half-dragging him toward the door. "Sylvia could use it too, right? Let's all go, more fun with a group."

I didn't say anything, just silently followed behind them.

A few young wolves from the pack who were friendly with Sofia came along too.

I rarely participated in purely social events like this and found it hard to join in their loud chatter.

I didn't force myself, so I found a secluded corner away from the group and sat quietly, watching the steam rise and the outlines of the distant forest.

Damine noticed my distance. He walked over holding a cup of freshly squeezed berry juice.

He had just handed it to me and was about to speak when his attention was drawn to a commotion over by Sofia.

Sofia was picking up a stone cup filled with an amber-colored liquid to drink. It was a potent distilled spirit made from some strong root plant, with high alcohol content that could cause discomfort for wolves with sensitive constitutions.

Damine's face hardened. He strode over, snatched the cup from her hand, his voice tight with suppressed anger: "You forgot what happened the last time you drank something this strong? You almost lost control and were bedridden for three days. You want to experience that again?"

Sofia blinked, her face innocent and wronged. She grabbed the berry juice from Damine's hand, the one he'd originally brought for me.

"I took the wrong one, I didn't mean to. This is mine. Thanks anyway." She smiled at Damine, a sly look in her eyes.

Damine's grip tightened on the now-empty stone cup, his knuckles turning white.

But in the end, he said nothing. He just walked back to my side, subconsciously holding out the now-empty cup that still smelled strongly of alcohol to me.

I looked at the clearly displeased man in front of me and the empty cup he was handing me, which had a pungent smell. I didn't reach for it.

I picked up my small purse, stood up, and spoke calmly: "I don't drink this. I'm going to sit by the other spring pool, where it's quieter."

Only then did Damine suddenly realize he'd handed me the wrong cup.

His entire focus had been on Sofia and the strong drink; he hadn't noticed what was in his hand at all.

He started to explain the confusion, but I had already turned and walked quickly toward another, more secluded, smaller spring pool.

The warm, mineral-rich water enveloped my body, soothing some of the fatigue and tension of the past few days.

I leaned against the smooth rock at the edge of the pool, watching the swirling white mist rise and dissipate. My consciousness gradually grew vague.

Maybe I was too exhausted, but I fell asleep without realizing it.

Perhaps because I was used to being alone and in quiet, I didn't hear the increasingly urgent knocking and calls from outside.

Damine called my name several times from the other side of the door without getting a response, and he grew more and more worried.

Finally, he just pushed open the slightly ajar door to the private bathhouse.

Seeing me with my eyes closed, motionless against the pool's edge, his heart skipped a beat. He thought something might have happened to me.

He immediately jumped into the warm spring water, scooping me up horizontally in his arms, eager to check my condition.

Startled by the sudden loss of balance, I woke up, blinking sleepily. Instinctively, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck to steady myself.

Steam from the hot spring filled the air around us. Our skin touched, the rising water vapor creating an oddly charged atmosphere.

Damine looked down at me in his arms, water droplets dripping from his hair. His throat bobbed, and he couldn't help but lean down, as if to kiss me.

Just as our breaths were about to mingle, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the brief tranquility.

Sofia and a few other wolves who had been searching for her arrived. She stood at the doorway, saw Damine holding me, the two of us standing intimately in the spring water, and froze.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, her eyes filled with shock and a betrayed disappointment. She spun around and ran off quickly.

Damine's body went rigid. His first reaction was to put me down immediately, then chase after Sofia without a second thought. He only managed to leave a rushed sentence: "She misunderstood. I have to explain it to her."

Misunderstanding?

He and I were mates bound by pack law and an ancient mark.

Even if we were seen in a more intimate act, what could possibly need explaining to another woman?

But he had already lost his way, still playing the role of Sofia's lover.

That was why his instinct was to explain.

For someone who had once been willingly tamed for love, breaking that habit is not easy.

Watching his hurriedly retreating back, my face remained expressionless, though a hint of bitterness surfaced in my eyes, quickly vanishing. I wrapped a dry pelt around myself and walked to the window for some air. Just in time, I saw Sofia on the empty ground below, hurrying toward the parked SUV.

She yanked the car door open. Damine caught up and grabbed her wrist.

Their heated argument carried clearly across the distance.

"Sylvia passed out in the spring! I was just worried she might slip and choke or get cold! Do you have to overreact like this?"

"Right! She's your bonded mate! What right do I have to be jealous? You should go take care of her! Why waste so much time explaining to your 'ex-girlfriend'?"

"Sofia! Do you have to talk like that?"

"What did I say? Am I not telling the truth?"

A few words back and forth, and they parted on bad terms.

Sofia's eyes were red-rimmed. She forcefully shook off Damine's hand, got into the driver's seat, and roared the engine to life. The tires screeched as she sped away, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Left alone, Damine stood frozen for a few seconds, his expression dark.

After that, he quickly got into his own car and sped off in the same direction Sofia had taken.

I looked down at the empty roadside, where dust was slowly settling, and turned silently to the dressing room.

When I came out after changing into dry clothes, I was immediately surrounded by several pack members with anxious faces, pacing agitatedly. One of them spoke in a rushed, panicked tone:

"Luna! Something terrible has happened! We just got an urgent message! Alpha and Sofia were ambushed by those bastards from Shadowfang Pack on their way out!"

When we hurried to the pack infirmary, I saw Damine slumped on a stone bench outside the treatment room. His black tactical vest was stained with large patches of darkened blood and grayish marks from silver toxin burns. His sweat-soaked black hair clung to his forehead.

The light in his eyes was gone, filled with panic and helplessness. He was slumped forward, his back curved.

I had never seen him look so broken.

Sofia's friends immediately rushed forward to ask what happened.

Damine ran a hand roughly through his hair, his voice tight with pain and guilt: "It's all my fault... I shouldn't have said those things to make Sofia angry. I shouldn't have let her drive off alone... She was just emotional because we fought... Otherwise, she wouldn't have been driving so fast, she wouldn't have crashed into those damn roadblocks and silver spike traps set by those bastards from Shadowfang Pack..."

Just then, the pack's most senior healer emerged, his expression extremely grim.

"The patient's condition is critical. The silver toxin has penetrated deeply, triggering a severe depletion of her primal wolf essence. Standard anti-toxin serums will have limited effect. Right now, we need a concentrated transfusion of an Alpha's blood to forcibly neutralize the toxin and jumpstart her life force. Does anyone know of an Alpha willing to donate their essence blood... though it could weaken the Alpha's powers?"

Everyone exchanged glances, their gazes eventually landing on Damine.

Only he, the Alpha of Stormfang Pack, possessed the purest, most potent bloodline.

Without a moment's hesitation, Damine rose to his feet, swaying slightly as he pulled off his blood-stained jacket. He took the sterile cloak the healer offered and followed a staff member quickly into the treatment room.

About half an hour later, the door to the treatment room opened again. A healer's assistant helped Damine out.

The man who was usually so strong and imposing now looked deathly pale, his lips bloodless, as if all his strength had been drained. He could barely stand.

Seeing me standing nearby, he nearly collapsed directly toward me. I instinctively reached out to support him.

His body was heavy and cold.

The assistant didn't leave. His tone was still urgent: "The patient's vitals are temporarily stable, but the silver toxin is fighting back. We need at least one more, substantial dose of Alpha essence blood to consolidate the treatment and completely eliminate the remaining poison. Can we contact any other Alpha?"

While we waited, the pack had already tried all their connections. There were virtually no wolves with pure Alpha bloodlines who could arrive in time.

Seeing everyone's silent, anxious expressions, Damine grew even more agitated.

He struggled, trying to force himself to his feet through sheer willpower alone.

"I... I can." His voice was weak but stubborn.

The assistant stared at him, as if looking at a man completely disregarding his own life.

"Alpha Blackwood, you've already given more essence blood than your body can handle! Doing it again will severely damage your wolf, you might not even be able to transform, and your powers could decline drastically!"

The expressions of the others changed. They all stepped forward, trying to dissuade him.

"Alpha, please stop! We can think of other ways. Perhaps we can contact friendly packs and ask their Alpha for help... After all, Stormfang donates a great deal of supplies every year."

But Damine just shook his head firmly, his eyes locked on the closed treatment room door.

"Sofia... she can't wait that long."

Seeing him in this nearly irrational state, I finally couldn't help but speak. My voice was shockingly clear in the quiet hallway: "The healers are already doing everything they can. They'll find another way to get Alpha essence blood. You don't need to... exhaust yourself like this."

Damine froze for a moment. His gaze seemed to flicker over me, but there was no hesitation in it.

He ignored what I said and pulled himself from the assistant's grip. He turned again, dragging his weakened body but taking determined, staggering steps toward the door.

Watching his resolute back disappear through the door, everyone fell into a deeper silence.

Someone sighed heavily, their voice filled with helplessness and a hint of barely concealed resentment.

"As long as it's about Sofia, the Alpha acts like a madman! Remember when he challenged that guy to a duel just because someone accidentally bumped into Sofia during training? He hadn't fully mastered his wolf back then and ended up with a fractured leg, lying in the infirmary for a whole month!"

"Tell me about it. Even earlier, to find that so-called 'Ocean Heart' for Sofia, he dove alone into the Dark Lake Abyss filled with dangerous aquatic predators and almost didn't make it back... And now it's the same thing. To save her, he's willing to damage his own wolf. I... I always thought she was still the one who mattered most to him, that's why... why I sometimes wanted to help create opportunities for them. Seeing this now... sigh..."

They whispered among themselves, as if completely forgetting I, his legal mate, was standing right there.

Listening as they recounted one by one all the past events between Damine and Sofia that I had never known, I felt a strange sense of daze.

It wasn't until this moment, hearing this 'care' stacked up by life-threatening risks, that I saw with crystal-clear clarity just how absurd and ridiculous my former hope of "maybe I could replace her" had been.

Love is love. No love is no love.

I don't know how much time passed before the emergency treatment was finally over.

The door opened. The healer looked exhausted. He was followed by Sofia, still unconscious but with a slightly better complexion, being wheeled out on a gurney, and Damine, who was being nearly carried out by two assistants, almost unconscious.

Everyone's heart leaped. They immediately crowded around, asking with concern about Sofia's condition.

The healer wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze resting on the unconscious Damine with a touch of emotion.

He sighed to the group gathered by Sofia's bedside: "They... must be true mates, right? It's so rare to find a male who would be willing to pay such a price for her, even to the point of damaging his own wolf."

I was left alone on the outskirts of the crowd. My lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.

It turned out that even at the brink of life and death, even with his official mate standing right there, in everyone's eyes, they were still the rightful pair.

And I, from beginning to end, had only been a superfluous onlooker.