I never imagined the girl who was supposedly “recovering from an illness in Europe” would turn out to be Richard’s fated mate.

Lynn.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Every curve dripping with confidence. She was fate’s cruelest joke.

She clicked across the floor in stilettos, that saccharine smile fixed on her lips. “Ann, I’m sorry… did I bother you?”

Bang!

I slammed the door in her face.

From the hall, my father’s roar shook the walls. “Ann! Do you have no manners? Get out of that room. Lynn likes it, so it’s hers from now on!”

I laughed bitterly and yanked my closet open, pulling clothes down in sharp, frantic motions.

The voices outside carried through the wood, clear as day.

“Uncle David, is Ann… angry?” Lynn’s tone was sweet as honey.

“Ignore her. She’s been spoiled since childhood.”

“But—”

“She’ll be marrying into the Bloodmoon Pack soon. This will be your and your mother’s home from now on.”

My hands stilled for a moment before I smiled. Cold. Sharper than a blade.

Within minutes, I’d booked a flight. End of the month.

Bloodmoon Pack.

Where a cursed Alpha prince waited to claim me… or kill me.

That gave me two weeks. Fifteen days until I either stood at the Bloodmoon altar—or disappeared overseas and left this toxic place behind forever.

By the time I dragged my luggage downstairs, no one even tried to stop me.

I headed straight for the city’s most luxurious hotel and swiped for the presidential suite.

For the first time that night, my throat tightened. My phone buzzed.

A message from Richard lit the screen.

[What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Why didn’t you come to Moonstone today?]

I stared at it until the words blurred.

For a year, he’d forced me into Moonstone, under the excuse of “disciplining” me. He always said I was spoiled, unfocused, incompetent. A girl who needed to be reshaped—or she’d ruin herself.

He never saw that I bent myself into pieces just to survive him.

But I wasn’t bending anymore.

Fifteen days from now, I could be a ghost of Bloodmoon… or I could be gone forever.

When I returned to the hotel after grabbing bags of essentials, I froze. My luggage was stacked neatly in the lobby.

“What’s going on?” My voice was ice.

The receptionist winced. “Miss Ann… we tried charging your card. It declined. Policy requires—”

My phone buzzed.

A message from my father.

[Since you want to cut ties, don’t spend my money anymore. All your accounts are frozen.]

My chest tightened. I stared at the glowing screen until my eyes burned, then typed two words back.

[Fine by me.]

Dragging my luggage across the streets, I tried not to crumble. My suitcase was stuffed with wedding dresses and gifts meant for a home that would never be mine. None of it I could sell.

Borrow money? Never. I’d sleep on the street before I begged those wolves waiting to laugh at me.

I’d worked beside Richard for years, never taking a salary. I’d lived on his card, or my father’s. Every profit went straight into the two packs.

I’d thought I didn’t need money.

I knew better.

By midnight, I dropped my suitcase beside a park bench. I was about to lay my head down when footsteps staggered closer.

A drunk wolf. His eyes were glassy, his grin wide.

“Hey, pretty girl. All alone?”

“Go away.”

“Don’t be like that. Come keep me company…”

His hand brushed my shoulder.

The next second—

“Ahhh!”

His scream split the night.

Richard.

He appeared like a shadow, twisting the man’s wrist until bones cracked. His eyes were black with fury.

Before I could react, he yanked me—and my suitcase—into his car.

“Let me go!” I thrashed against him, rage and shame clawing up my throat.

His hand clamped around my wrist, unrelenting. His Alpha aura crashed over me, heavily and suffocating.

“What the hell are you doing, Ann?” His voice was sharp steel. “Homeless—and you don’t come to me?”

For one fleeting moment, his anger looked like concern, and something traitorous in my chest softened.

But then I remembered the words I’d written in my diary. God will keep giving you the same test until you choose differently.

I wasn’t going to make excuses for him this time.

Not for a rescue. Not for a scrap of attention.

I yanked at his grip, my voice trembling with fury. “Let. Me. Go.”

In the past, whenever I ran away after a fight with my father, Richard would hunt me down. He’d drive through the night, find me no matter where I hid, and carry me home on his back.

“What’s the tantrum about this time?” he’d always mutter, half annoyed, half amused.

Back then, as I clung to him, breathing in the crisp cedar on his skin, I used to think maybe—just maybe—he liked me.

How naïve I was.

Because now I know. No one could be crueler than him.

After touching me with that same body, after holding me, after making me believe I mattered—he would go back to his study, sit in front of Lynn’s picture, and look at her with a tenderness that made me sick.

And of all people… it had to be her.

“Let go!” I hissed, eyes burning. I sank my teeth into his hand.

He only frowned, silent, and started the car.

By the time we reached the villa, his expression was carved from stone. He carried my suitcase inside and spoke with that cold finality of his.

“Stay here, like always, until you decide to stop this nonsense.”

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “I’ll only stay two weeks. After that, I’m gone. I’ll pay you rent if you want. But I won’t bother you again.”

Slowly, Richard lifted his gaze. His green-brown eyes were bottomless, like a deep pit I’d never climb out of.

“Stop bothering me?” His lips were curled, cruel. “Ann, do you really think you’re capable of that?”

The words sliced straight through me. Because he was right. He saw it all.

From the first day I hated him, to now—when I loved him to the point of self-destruction.

And him? He let me drown while keeping another woman in his heart.

“Lynn…” My voice shook. “She’s my stepmother’s daughter. Did you know?”

Richard was stilled for only half a second as he loosened his tie. “I found out today.”

I bit down hard on my lip, but the question still clawed its way out. “And… what is she to you?”

His answer was effortless, rehearsed. “A junior from school. We went to the same academy. She once saved me in a car accident. Later, her health failed, so she was sent abroad.”

Then he looked straight at me, his gaze sharp and warning. “I know you hate your stepmother. But Lynn has nothing to do with that. Don’t take it out on her.”

My chest caved. I wanted to scream Do you love her?!

But what was the point? His protection of her said it all.

I turned on my heel and slammed the guest room door.

That night, he didn’t come after me. Not once.

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling until my vision blurred. One thought circled in my mind like a countdown.

Thirteen days left.

Thirteen days until Bloodmoon claimed me—or until I vanished overseas. Either way, I’d escape this torment.

The next day, I slept late, hoping he’d already gone.

But when I opened my door, he was still there. Sitting casually on the sofa, flipping through a magazine, his aura calm and suffocating at once.

He glanced up lazily. “Awake?”

I hesitated. “Aren’t you busy with pack affairs?”

“It’s the weekend,” he said simply.

I muttered something under my breath, grabbed a slice of cheesecake from the fridge, and made for my room.

“Change,” he said suddenly, not even looking up. “You’re coming with me to a party.”

Every instinct in me wanted to refuse. But being trapped in the villa with him was worse. At least outside, I could breathe.

So, I changed and followed.

When we arrived, my stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just a party. It was her party.

A grand welcome celebration—for Lynn.

I turned to leave immediately, but Lynn’s hand snaked around my arm. Her smile was sweet, almost angelic, her blonde hair glowing under the lights.

“It’s so good you came,” she cooed. “Don’t fight with Daddy anymore. He was so worried about you leaving—he didn’t eat all day.”

My laugh was sharp, humorless. I yanked my arm free and strode into the private room.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her lower lip tremble. Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked helplessly at Richard.

His jaw tightened. He shot me a look so cold it froze me in place. Then, without hesitation, he turned to her.

His hand threaded gently through her blonde hair. His voice dropped to something only she could hear—soft, tender words that pulled a shy laugh from her.

The sound gutted me.

I grabbed the nearest glass of champagne, tipped my head back, and swallowed until the burn drowned out the ache in my chest.

The private room spun with clinking glasses and raucous laughter, Alphas and Betas drinking like the world belonged to them.

I sat curled in a corner, invisible, my glass clutched tight.

Richard stood in the center of it all, commanding the room without effort. Yet his green-brown eyes never once strayed to me. No, every look, every subtle smile, every small act of tenderness—twisting a cap, handing over a drink—belonged to her.

To Lynn.

All the things I had longed for, he gave so easily to her.

I tilted my head back and drained the wine in one go, the burn cutting down my throat.

“He was never ours,” Lily snarled in my head, her voice icy and merciless. “Stop deluding yourself.”

My heart twisted, like a dull blade carving into flesh. Maybe she was right. Maybe the bond between us was just instinct. Maybe every whispered word, every tender moment I thought was love—was nothing more than me projecting my own desperate hope onto him.

A shout erupted across the room.

“The bottle landed on Richard!” someone cheered.

They shoved a tablet into his hands. “Come on, Alpha. Let’s play ‘This or That.’ Tell us who stirs your blood more.”

The screen lit up with two photos: a famous actress and Lynn.

Richard didn’t hesitate. “Lynn.”

The room roared with laughter and applause. Lynn’s cheeks flushed pink, her smile glowing under the attention.

I gripped my glass harder until it nearly cracked.

Then, the next round lit the screen—and my blood froze.

Two pictures. One of her. One of me.

The room went wild. “Now this is interesting! Ann’s the most beautiful she-wolf in Silver Fang. If Richard still chooses Lynn, well… that says it all!”

Every eye turned to him.

For three long, suffocating seconds, Richard was silent.

And then “Ann.” His voice was cold, detached.

The crowd exploded in cheers.

But the word meant nothing. It wasn’t affection. It wasn’t choice. It was a handout, a pity answer to quiet the crowd.

I stood abruptly; my chest was hollow. The walls of the private room pressed in, choking me.

In the hallway, three drunken wolves staggered into my path.

“Hey, pretty thing,” one of them slurred, reaching for my face. “Give me your number.”

My wolf surged. My eyes glowed gold as I growled, “Get lost.”

But they only laughed, their breath heavy with alcohol.

“Why so cold?” another sneered, yanking my wrist. His grip was bruising, cruel. “Dressed like this… you’re practically begging for attention.”

“Rip them apart!” Lily howled in my mind.

I struggled against their grip, ready to shift—when the door opened.

Richard.

He stood framed in the light, his expression tight, his body coiled with power. Relief washed through me—until Lynn’s scream sliced through the air.

“Ahh!”

Richard’s head whipped around.

“I—I twisted my ankle,” Lynn whimpered, eyes brimming with tears. “It’s fine, go help Ann first…”

But before I could blink, his arm was already around her waist, steadying her, protecting her. With his other hand, he slammed one wolf against the wall by the throat.

The others backed off instantly, cowed by an Alpha’s fury.

I saw it then—his hand on her waist, her pitiful eyes locked on him. And I couldn’t breathe.

I snatched a bottle from a nearby display and smashed it against the floor, glass biting into my palm, blood spilling hot and fast.

“Get out of my way!” My voice cracked with fury and something far more fragile.

While they stared at me in shock, I slipped past and bolted.

I didn’t take Richard’s car. I couldn’t stand to. Instead, I stood in the downpour, the rain drenching me to the bone.

“Ann!” Lynn’s voice chirped from behind me.

She appeared with an umbrella, smiling sweetly as if we hadn’t just lived through hell. In her hand, she dangled keys to a brand-new sports car, flashing them like jewelry.

“Didn’t you drive? I can take you home.”

I stared at the car keys, then at her carefully polished smile—and laughed bitterly.

How perfect she looked in her glittering facade.

“No thanks,” I sneered. “I’d rather walk than ride in the car of a mistress’s daughter. It reeks of filth.”

Her expression shattered, the mask slipping. For once, her eyes burned.

“Ann! Say that again!”

I stepped closer, my words sharp as knives. “Say it a hundred times, it won’t erase your mother’s sins. That’s who she is—and who you are.”

Her face twisted with rage.

But before she could retort, headlights blinded us both.

A car, out of control, barreled toward us.

I froze.

And then—Richard lunged.

He grabbed Lynn, pulling her into his arms. Just as he reached for me—

Impact.

Pain exploded, sharp and merciless. The world spun, and then—blackness.