Drevan Valkor is the Darkmoon pack's Invincible Alpha. This makes him grow arrogant and believe himself to be untouchable. Even when he drags a knife across his own hand, the wound closes almost instantly.

He laughs at me and says, "Kyra, you gasp for breath after walking just a few steps. What a pathetic, sickly burden."

What he doesn't know is that a curse forces me to suffer every bit of pain he should be feeling. The only cure is for him to acknowledge me and complete the mate bond willingly.

I endure three years of his pain, his cold shoulder treatment, and his constant entanglement with my "healthy and lively" stepsister.

I tell myself that if I can survive until the mate bonding ceremony, I will finally be free. But that hope dies on the night of the ceremony.

Before the entire pack, he pulls my stepsister, Belle Wynter, into his arms and kicks me off the altar.

"I reject Kyra Wynter as my mate," he declares. "My pack doesn't need a weakling like her."

That is the moment my conscience dies. If that's how it is, then he can't blame me for choosing the worst possible cure.

"Get off the altar!"

A black leather boot kicked me hard in the chest. Before I could react, I was sent flying off the platform and crashing onto the stone floor below.

I spat out a mouthful of dark, clotted blood mixed with bits of shredded tissue. The pain was unbearable, and it wasn't just from the kick. It felt like a thousand knives were churning wildly through every part of my body.

A Rogue had slashed Drevan's back to ribbons last night. Those wounds had become mine, and now the kick made every one of them flare up.

"Oh my Goddess! Why is she so weak?"

"Told you she's a weakling. The Alpha hasn't even gone all out."

Jeers broke out around me as the crowd stared down at me with utter contempt.

Trembling, I lifted my head and squinted through blurry vision toward the raised platform where Drevan Valkor stood. He was the werewolf I'd loved for three years, and the one whose pain I'd endured in his place.

Just then, he pulled out a handkerchief with a look of disgust and wiped the toe of the boot he had just used to kick me.

"Don't stain my altar with your filthy blood!" he spat.

Drevan casually tossed the handkerchief onto my face, blocking out the last bit of my vision.

"Drevan…" My voice cracked as I pulled it away. "Today is… the mate bonding ceremony… Please complete the mark…"

I didn't care if it was just a formality or if he left immediately afterward for someone else. All I wanted was for him to complete the mark so I could survive. I stumbled forward, trying to drag myself back onto the altar.

Drevan finally glanced down at me from the platform.

"Mate bonding?"

He sounded like he'd heard the funniest joke in the world.

In one swift motion, he pulled the she-wolf beside him into his arms. She wore a fiery red dress, and her smile was mocking and triumphant.

She was my stepsister, Belle Wynter.

"Listen up," he said, raising her hand in front of the entire pack. "I, Drevan Valkor, Alpha of the Darkmoon pack, swear before the Moon Goddess that I officially reject Kyra Wynter as my mate."

The word hit me like a physical blow. I couldn't believe he had actually rejected me.

"I'm doing this for your own good, Kyra," Belle purred as she snuggled in his arms. She looked down at me with pure malice.

"Drevan is the Invincible Alpha, and his mate has to be able to fight alongside him. But you? You gasp for breath after walking just a few steps. If you actually set foot on a battlefield, he'd have to stop fighting to carry your body home."

The crowd roared with laughter.

"Ms. Belle is right. Weaklings should get out of the pack."

I dug my fingers into the dirt until my nails split and blood soaked into the soil. Only I knew the truth about how Drevan became the Invincible Alpha and why he could dominate every fight without a scratch.

It was because all the pain and bloodshed were mine to bear. I suffered in silence and bore every hidden wound while he walked away unscathed and claimed all the glory.

"No… It's not like that…"

I struggled to get up, desperate to expose this ridiculous lie.

"Drevan, you'll regret this… Without me—"

"Shut up!" Drevan cut me off impatiently. "My only regret is wasting three years with a sickly thing like you pretending to be my Luna. Get this pathetic thing out of here. Just looking at her turns my stomach."

Two burly guards rushed forward and yanked me up by the arms. The sudden tug ripped open the wounds across my back, and I screamed in agony.

The pain hit me so hard that my vision went black. It felt like I was slipping away. In the final moment before I lost consciousness, the last thing I heard was Belle's mocking voice.

"Dear, don't let a weakling like her ruin your mood. Tonight is our special night…"

I laughed bitterly at her words. I realized they were all liars, every single one of them.

Losing consciousness was just the start of another form of torment to me. The bloody, foolish memories I'd fought to forget surged back, tearing through me while my mind was weak.

Drevan loved bare-knuckle fights. Any territorial dispute with rival packs turned into a battle for dominance. His skill was unquestionable, and years of relentless training had left him undefeated.

There was one time when two of his ribs were broken in a fight. At that moment, I was at home waiting for him. The pain hit so suddenly that I tumbled down the stairs. I felt my chest cave in, and each inhale made me feel as though I were gulping down shards of glass.

But I didn't seek medical help. I had a condition almost unheard of among the wolves called Sympathetic Pain, where I'd take on every bit of pain my mate felt.

I was bound to Draven through this curse. Any injury dealt to him appeared on my body instead. Even healers couldn't find anything wrong with me, and they all thought I was losing my mind. The only cure was to complete the mate bond with Draven.

So naturally, I bore every blow and every wound meant for him in that fight. And yet, he was so astonished that he actually believed he was the "chosen one" who had obtained the legendary godlike body.

To test this absurd theory, he decided to prove it that very night at the victory celebration. Right in front of me, he snatched up a fruit knife and slashed it viciously across his palm.

"Don't do it!"

I lunged forward in horror, but I was a step too slow.

The blade cut through without a drop of blood, and the gash vanished the second it formed.

Drevan laughed and said, "You see that, Kyra? Nothing can hurt me."

He stared at his hand like a fanatic, completely unhinged.

"Even a knife can't hurt me. I'm the Alpha King chosen by the Moon Goddess!" he exclaimed.

I curled up on the floor, gripping my shaking hand where the pain screamed through every nerve. I couldn't utter a word.

When he finally noticed me, his euphoria curdled into irritation.

"I'm celebrating here, Kyra. What's with the waterworks? I'm completely fine, and you're down there acting like you're dying. You're killing the mood."

That was when everything changed.

With his apparent invulnerability, Drevan's ego exploded. He cut back on defensive training and abandoned finesse as he charged into battle like a brute. He began taking hits to deliver more devastating attacks.

The pack thrived under his command as they conquered one territory after another. Everyone hailed him as the "Invincible Alpha".

Only I knew the actual price of those victories. Every fight he survived out there felt like a death sentence for me at home. On more than one occasion, the agonizing pain kept me confined to bed.

I had no choice but to beg him.

"Drevan, please take better care of yourself. Stop tanking hits head-on…"

"Shut up!"

However, my concerns only annoyed him.

"When I first met you, you were a wild wolf that couldn't be tamed. How did you turn into this sickly mess? Look at you. Besides lying in bed whimpering, what else can you do?"

Eventually, that contempt affected our intimate life too. On many occasions, he came home drunk at night and was filled with a need to dominate. I always bore all the pain he should have felt in battle, which left my body so battered that even the slightest touch made me tremble.

"Ah… It hurts…"

I instinctively flinched away from his touch, and that reaction extinguished whatever desire he'd had.

"Such a killjoy!" he spat coldly, grabbing his clothes and slamming the door shut on his way out. "If you can't handle it, someone else can."

Perhaps that was when it started. He found other she-wolves outside—healthy ones who could drink and go wild with him.

When he showed off his unmarked skin, he wanted she-wolves who'd gasp in admiration, not cry from phantom wounds. My dear sister Belle was exactly that kind of person.

Drevan was cheating on me, and I had stumbled onto the truth while packing his suitcase for a business trip.

My hand brushed against something soft tucked into the pocket of his expensive, tailored suit. I pulled it out and found a pair of black lace panties. They were skimpy by design, and they weren't even my size. I stared at the red-rose embroidery on it and recalled that it was Belle's favorite design.

I confronted him with the evidence in my hand. "What is this?"

Drevan was tying his necktie at that time. He glanced at the panties without batting an eye.

"Someone probably slipped it in my suit as a prank," he replied.

"A prank?" I trembled with anger. "They smell like Belle's perfume. Do you take me for a fool?"

He finally lost his patience, snatched the panties, and tossed them into the trash.

"Kyra, it was for a business negotiation! The other party enjoys this sort of thing, so I was just playing along," he explained.

"So playing along means bringing it home?"

"That's enough!" he shouted at me. "I have my reasons. I'm doing this for the pack's interests. What would someone like you, who's only obsessed with a fairy-tale romance, understand about that?"

He impatiently pushed me aside and left for his business trip, dragging his suitcase behind him.

But getting caught didn't make Drevan tone it down one bit. If anything, it made him bolder.

One day, I received an audio file from an unknown number, and I opened it. The recording that played was filled with breathy moans that would make anyone blush, along with Belle's sultry voice.

"Ah! Drevan… Don't you think I'm much better than that blockhead Kyra…"

"Stop talking about her. You're killing the mood." Drevan's voice had a raw edge that I'd never heard before when he was in bed with me.

"But I want… Mmph… Please be gentle… Didn't she find those panties I gave you last time? I'll leave you another pair this time…"

After listening to the whole thing, I felt like pouring bleach in my ears to cleanse them.

The next day, I played the recording for him. This time, he didn't even bother with excuses.

"Since you already know about it, I won't beat around the bush anymore," he said, lighting a cigarette. Through the curling smoke, his face looked like a stranger to me.

"Belle is healthy and passionate. She gives me the satisfaction an Alpha needs. And you… You can't even last ten more minutes in bed without passing out from the pain. But I swear, the Luna position will always be yours."

Drevan flicked ash from his cigarette, all the while acting like he was doing me a favor.

"As long as you behave yourself, don't make a scene, and don't embarrass the pack by spreading this around, I'll still mark you. After all, you're the Luna my father chose for me."

Everything made sense at that moment. I should have walked away right then, but when I looked at the calendar, I realized the full moon was only three days away.

After living with this curse for 20 years, I was finally one step away from breaking free. Once I lifted the Sympathetic Pain curse, I'd recover my health and finally be able to get revenge on those two.

That was why I stayed and endured every ounce of rage and humiliation. I even turned a blind eye while Drevan and Belle carried on their affair right in front of me.

I watched how she'd deliberately show off the hickeys on her neck, and how he threw himself between her and a blade without hesitation.

I endured all of it right up until tonight's ceremony, when he stood before the entire pack and rejected me in front of everyone.

That was when it finally hit me—keeping quiet didn't earn me any respect, and backing down didn't earn me any mercy. Instead, my tolerance only gave them more confidence to walk all over me.

Since they were going to be this ruthless, they couldn't blame me for being selfish.