When my mind-link request had been ignored by my parents for the twentieth time, I went to the Werewolf Council, clutching the report on silver dust corrosion in my hand.

“Hello. I’d like to renounce my pack identity—effective immediately.”

Ten minutes later, my parents burst in, dragging my adoptive younger sister, Elsa, with them, panic written all over their faces.

The moment the door flew open, my Beta father slapped me hard across the face.

“You’re nothing but a spoiled brat craving attention! Stop this pathetic act. You’re an embarrassment to a Beta’s name!”

My mother, a forensic specialist for the pack, immediately snatched the report from my hand. After a brief glance, she let out a cold sneer.

“You faked this report just to get our attention? You’ve been a liar since you were a pup.”

Elsa clung to both of them, tears in her eyes as she sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jenifer. It’s my fault for holding the shifting ritual. But please... don’t lie to our parents just to make them feel guilty!”

Blood was still pouring from my nose, but I wiped it away calmly and stood tall before the werewolf councilors once more.

“I haven’t had a real family for a long time. Please—remove all my personal records from the pack. I just don’t want my funeral—scheduled for three days from now—to be delayed.”

I was infected with silver dust corrosion after falling into a silver mine ten days ago. The healer strongly requested that I receive treatment at the infirmary.

However, when I arrived, I was told that all the healers had been dispatched to the front lines—the pack was at war with neighboring clans.

I had no choice but to turn to my parents for help.

After my mind-link was rejected for the twentieth time, I clutched my corrosion report and dragged myself to the Werewolf Council.

“Hello. I’d like to request the removal of all my personal records from the pack database... in advance.”

The councilor gave me a sympathetic glance and asked softly,

“Poor little child. Don’t you have any family members to stay by your side?”

Just as the words left her mouth, my parents stormed in—trailing behind them, Elsa.

My dad didn’t even hesitate.

The moment he saw me, he exploded—

No hesitation.

No questions.

No chance for me to explain.

He jabbed a finger in my face and roared,

“You pulled this pathetic stunt just to outshine Elsa and steal our attention?”

His voice shook with fury.

“Do you have any idea how many warriors were pulled from the front lines because of your selfishness?”

“You’re an embarrassment—a disgrace!” he spat.

“For a beta’s daughter, you have no shame at all!”

I stood there, stunned—completely frozen.

My wolf trembled from the shock of his sudden outburst.

It took me a moment to even remember what day it was.

Of course.

Elsa’s first shift. Her so-called "coming-of-age" ritual.

My father had taken two full days off—just to celebrate her.

And me? His own daughter—nearly killed by silver dust corrosion—had reached out to him twenty times through the mind-link, just begging for a healer.

But instead of help, I was condemned for wasting the pack’s resources. A disgrace. A shame to the pack.

Because to him, I wasn’t a daughter. I was a burden. A troublemaker.

Tears welled up in my eyes the moment I heard his words.

I touched my burning cheek and tried to explain, “Dad, I didn’t…”

“Still defending yourself?” he shouted.

My mom snatched the report from my hand and gave it a quick glance. Her sneer was colder than the silver dust eating away at my body.

“You forged this just to get our attention? Well, congratulations, you got it! Elsa’s big day is completely ruined—because of you!”

“You’ve been a liar since you were a pup. Why on earth would we believe you now?”

Her fury boiled over. Just as she raised her hand to strike me, Elsa rushed forward and stopped her.

Tears shimmered in Elsa’s eyes as she pleaded, her voice soft and fragile.

“I’m sorry, Jennifer… I didn’t mean to hurt you by having the shifting ritual. Please don’t lie to our parents anymore, okay? They’re already exhausted from everything you’ve done. If you stop lying, I swear—I’ll do whatever you want.”

My mom pulled her into her arms and gently wiped away her tears—tears that should’ve been mine.

Watching their tender embrace felt like a dagger through my chest.

I stood there, frozen, mind spinning, as warm blood trickled from my nose. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and turned to the councilor again.

“I haven’t had a family for a long time,” I said hoarsely. “Please remove all my personal information from the pack registry. My funeral is scheduled three days from now.”

My dad burst into laughter the moment he heard my words, his eyes gleaming with bitter irony.

“What a joke! You really dragged the council into this circus—just to ruin Elsa’s ritual? Unbelievable!”

“You’ll pay for this, Jennifer! And don’t you dare tell anyone you’re my daughter!”

With that, he turned and walked away without a second glance. My mother followed, Elsa trailing behind like the beloved child she was.

After finishing the paperwork alone, I walked back to our den—alone.

I had three days left to live.

While I fought silver dust corrosion alone, erasing myself from the pack’s records, my parents raised their glasses to their adopted daughter’s glorious transformation.

I didn’t return home out of longing—I came to pack what little was left of me. But when I stepped inside, I realized there was nothing worth remembering.

I had always lived in the warehouse—the smallest, dampest, darkest corner they could spare. There were only old clothes inside, and even those were just hand-me-downs no one else wanted. Elsa’s dressing room was three times the size of mine. Everything she no longer wanted ended up in my room—like I was nothing more than a dumping ground.

When I finished packing, my phone rang. It was the tomb keeper.

“Hello, Jennifer. You asked me to reserve the grave you picked, remember? If you come by with the silver coins soon and book it, I’ll keep it for you. Otherwise, someone else might take it.”

I chose a grave just a week ago.

It was quiet, wrapped in moonflowers and white roses—the kind of peace my wolf always dreamed of. She said she wanted to rest there, far away from this cruel, bitter world.

But now… her dream will never come true.

A pup like me, ignored by her own family—how could I possibly afford it?

My beta father wouldn’t even send a single healer when I was rotting from silver dust corrosion. What makes me think he’d give me a coin to buy my own grave?

I paused for a moment… then whispered, “I don’t need it anymore.”

My elder brother William came back just after I hung up the phone.

He walked over with a puzzled expression. “Grave? What are you talking about?”

For a moment, I thought—maybe, just maybe—he knew something. Maybe he cared.

But that illusion shattered the next second.

“What kind of game are you playing now, Jennifer?” he snapped. “I heard you stirred up the whole Werewolf Council—just to ruin Elsa’s shifting ritual?”

“Even I feel ashamed of you. You embarrassed our whole family.”

“Elsa cried her heart out, feeling guilty for your drama! You completely ruined her big day!”

“Do you even realize how important the first shift is for a werewolf?”

“If she hadn’t lost her real parents as a child, she wouldn’t have had to grow up in someone else’s home!”

“Why do you always cause trouble for her? Why can’t you just be kind to her for once?”

I stared at William’s furious face, feeling a lump rise in my throat so hard it choked me.

Wasn’t I the one always ignored? Always treated like an outsider in my own home?

Yes, Elsa’s shift mattered. But what about mine?

Not once—not once—had I joined a full moon run with our family since she arrived.

Every time they promised to go hunting with me, something just happened to Elsa. A fever. An allergy. Some excuse. And they’d rush to the infirmary with her… leaving me behind. Always.

From the day she stepped into this house, they poured everything into her—attention, care, love.

But when I shifted for the first time?

They forgot. Completely.

No one watched me transform. No one celebrated. No ritual. No guests. Not even a word of congratulations.

Yet for Elsa, they invited half the pack. They made a spectacle out of it.

I stared at William, tears welling up in my eyes, my voice shaking as I choked out the words:

“William, do you even remember the first time I shifted?”

“Not only did all of you forget it completely—you didn’t even care! No one said a word. No one asked me how it went, how I felt, or if I was scared.”

“It was supposed to be the most important moment in a werewolf’s life… and I went through it alone.”

It seemed that William remembered something—because for a brief moment, I saw guilt flicker in his eyes.

But his words were still cold. Ice-cold.

“Why are you being so petty?” he snapped.

“If you’d just admitted your mistakes and tried to make up for them, do you think our parents would’ve stayed angry for this long?”

Just then, the front door opened. I heard their voices even before they stepped inside.

My parents.

“How dare you mention your first shift!” my father roared. “You’re shameless!”

“You don’t deserve a ritual—not after what you did to Elsa!”

His fury hit me like a tidal wave. His wolf was so close to the surface, I could feel it—like it wanted to rip me apart.

“Elsa’s entire ritual was ruined because of you! But did she blame you? No. She begged us to forgive you. She cried so hard she fainted!”

“And you don’t even feel a hint of guilt? Apologize to her! Now!”

Elsa snapped out of her sorrow, stepped closer, and forced a pitiful smile. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a trace of understanding as she said:"

“There’s no need to apologize, Jennifer. But... could you please bake me that walnut cake? I’ve been craving it for so long.”

Mom’s face immediately softened, lighting up with misplaced warmth.

“Jennifer, just look at how kind Elsa is! She’s giving you a chance to make things right. Why won’t you take it?”

I stared at Elsa’s fake smile, my voice cold.

“Didn’t you say you’re allergic to nuts?”

“Are you trying to frame me for trying to kill you? You insist I bake you a walnut cake—just so you can accuse me of poisoning you?”

Elsa's face turned pale when she heard my words.

Then she rushed over and grabbed my hands, pleading in a pitiful voice,

"I'm sorry, Jenifer. I forgot to tell you I'm allergic to nuts."

"I fell off the roof when I was a pup, and ever since, my memory hasn’t been great. I really forgot!"

"Please don’t be mad at me, Jenifer. You can just make a different flavor for me, can’t you?"

Seeing her fake, scheming smile made my stomach turn.

I clearly remembered the first time I made walnut cake for her—I had no idea she was allergic.

I did it purely out of kindness and sincerity, hoping to build a friendship.

Just because she casually said she liked it, I went through dozens of attempts, burning my hands badly in the process.

But I didn't give up. I pushed through the pain and finally baked the perfect cake—for her.

However, Elsa ended up fainting from her nut allergy.

When she regained consciousness, she threw herself into our parents’ arms, sobbing:

“Mom, Dad, please don’t blame Jenifer! She worked so hard just to bake me a cake!”

“She even said it wouldn’t matter if I only had one bite!”

“Please don’t punish her! It’s my fault—I shouldn’t have been so greedy!”

Under my parents’ resentful glares, I stood frozen at her bedside, not knowing what to say.

“I didn’t know Elsa was allergic to nuts,” I murmured. “She never told me...”

But instead of understanding, all I got was my father's merciless rage—

roaring, cursing, and a face twisted with hatred.

His wolf had lost all control. Claws unsheathed, he nearly slashed my face when he struck the wall beside me.

My wolf flinched, terrified.

That moment left a scar deeper than any wound—

from that day on, she never felt safe again.

He glared at me with undisguised disgust and roared,

“Everyone in this house knows Elsa’s allergic to nuts! Why are you the only one who doesn’t?”

“Don’t try to fool us with your pathetic lies! I know exactly why you did it—you were jealous because we love her more!”

After that, I was thrown into the cellar. Three whole days of hell.

No food. No water. No light. No air.

By the time they let me out, my wolf was barely breathing.

My lips were cracked and bleeding. I could hear my wolf whimpering in agony inside me.

Thinking of that nightmare, I replied to her coldly,

“I don’t have time to bake it myself. Do it on your own—or buy one from a store.”

Elsa clung tightly to my arm, her voice trembling with fear:

“I don’t want to eat it again, Jenifer. Please don’t be mad at me, okay? You’re my best big sister. I can’t lose you!”

But as she spoke, I saw it—a flicker of hatred in her eyes.

Her claws dug deeper into my skin, sinking in slowly but deliberately. The pressure grew stronger with each word she uttered.

Pain shot up my arm, but before I could pull away, she suddenly collapsed to the ground—making it look as if I had pushed her.

My parents and William immediately panicked the moment they saw her fall.

My mother rushed over, scooping her up and frantically checking her injuries.

It looked like Elsa had hit the back of her head. She leaned limply against my mother, sobbing weakly,

“Mom… my head… it really hurts. Am I going to lose my memory again?”

William gently touched her wound and began rubbing it softly. Then he turned to me with a glare full of accusation and disappointment.

“How could you be so vicious, Jenifer? You’ve let me down—completely!”

My father's wolf let out a furious growl.

In the blink of an eye, he lunged forward—and before I could even react, I was knocked to the ground by the force of his uncontrollable rage.

He hadn’t meant to hit me. But he did.

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying—

even my father’s wolf saw me as the enemy.

“You shameless she-wolf!” he roared.

“If you hadn’t pushed her off the roof, would she still be suffering from memory loss?”

“We never would have had you if we’d known you'd turn out to be this cruel!”

“Get to your room—now—and reflect on what you’ve done!”

Because of the violent impact, I heard my wolf whimper faintly inside me.

Her voice was broken and weak as she whispered,

"I... I can’t stand up anymore."

Even her howls had lost their strength—like her spirit was cracking apart inside me.

My mother seemed to hear the agony in my wolf’s cry. For a fleeting second, a flicker of sympathy passed through her eyes.

But in the next moment, Elsa’s louder sobs stole her attention again, and she turned away to comfort her without hesitation.

I struggled to my feet, my legs trembling, my hands pressed hard against the wall for support.

Limping, I dragged myself back to my room.

I didn’t sit there to reflect on my “fault.”

Instead, I quietly pulled out the small bag I had prepared in secret.

When they saw me come out with the package, they looked stunned—then sneered.

“Well, well... off to run away from home again? Playing that game once more?”

“Jenifer, why can’t you understand your parents? We only punish you because we care. We just want you to correct your mistakes.”

“If you can’t admit you were wrong, then don’t bother coming back once you leave this den!”

Their words hit me like icy wind, but my heart had already turned to stone.

I’d been hurt too deeply—too many times.

They had said “don’t come back” more times than I could count.

And this time, I wasn’t going to beg to stay.

There was nothing left for me in that so-called home—no love, no warmth, only pain and bitter memories.

Without looking back, I walked out of the den.

Just then, my father grabbed a bottle and hurled it at the ground with all his rage.

The deafening shatter froze me in place.

As I instinctively turned around, sharp glass shards flew straight at my face. One slashed across my forehead.

Warm blood began to trickle down, slow and steady, blurring my vision—reminding me again that even pain could still feel so real.

But I didn’t give in.

I turned around and faced them all, my voice steady, sharp, and cold:

“I have nothing left to hold on to in this place. If I’m nothing but shame in your eyes—

then I’ll cut all ties with you. For good.”

“How dare you! What are you saying?” my father bellowed.