I died on the day I was appointed the pack's official "Emblem Designer."

Three hours after my death, my parents, my brother Connor, and my fated mate, Ryder, were throwing a promotion party for my younger sister, Elara.

Trapped in our family's clock tower, I used our mind-link, desperately pleading for help as I lay dying.

The only one who answered was my fated mate, Ryder. All he said was, "Seraphina, cut it out. Elara’s promotion party is important. Stop throwing a tantrum!"

It was the ninety-ninth time they had broken my heart. And the last.

I lay in a pool of my own blood as my heart hammered out its final beats.

They thought I was just throwing another tantrum, hiding somewhere to get attention. They thought if they just taught me a lesson, I would come crawling back.

But they didn't know. I was home the entire time.

I was already dead.

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1

My soul drifted back to my bedroom.

My door was thrown open. My brother, Connor, burst in, scoffing when he found the room empty.

"Aren't you a little too old for this disappearing act?"

Normally, I would have shot back a retort.

But this time, I just floated beside him, unable to make a sound.

Connor dialed my phone. No answer. The mind-link was silent, too.

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration, idly flipping through the notebook on my desk.

Inside, only one thing was scrawled in a corner: 99.

The number of times they had broken my heart.

Connor didn't understand. He frowned, tossed the notebook back onto the desk, and left a voicemail.

"Stop playing these stupid games. You were supposed to get party supplies for Elara’s promotion. Get back here and get it done!"

"This is her big day. Don't you dare ruin it. Come home within the hour, and maybe I'll forgive you."

Connor pocketed his phone and stalked back to the living room. "Seraphina isn't in her room, and she's not answering her phone or the mind-link," he announced to our parents.

"She's always like this—making a big deal out of nothing, storming off, and then waiting for us to beg her to come back."

"We've spoiled her," my father, Alaric, finally said. "No one contact her this time. Let her learn her lesson. She'll cool off and come crawling back tomorrow."

Elara glided over, tugging gently on our father's arm, a worried expression on her face.

"Dad, don't say that. What if something really happened to Seraphina? Maybe I should text her? You know she and I are close." She lowered her eyes, the very picture of a gentle, innocent fawn.

I watched her take out her phone, her slender fingers tapping on the screen. A text to me.

"Hope those rogue wolves gave you a night to remember. Whose bed did you crawl into? By the way, the party is amazing. Thanks for not being here. It’d be better if you were dead." After sending it, she deleted the message and typed a new one.

"Seraphina, are you okay? We're all so worried about you. If you're angry with us, take it out on me. Please, just come home." She held up the phone for everyone to see, perfectly playing the part of a caring, concerned sister.

My mother, Livia, pulled her into a hug, her voice filled with sympathy. "You're always so kind, Elara. This has nothing to do with you. Seraphina is just being immature."

Immature?

A bitter laugh escaped my spectral form, though no one could hear it.

In their eyes, it was always about Elara. Why would they remember that today I was supposed to be appointed the pack’s official "Emblem Designer"—a supreme honor?

Knowing they would all be celebrating Elara's promotion, I had told them not to come to my appointment ceremony.

I never wanted to compete with Elara for their affection.

But just as I was preparing to leave for the ceremony, three rogue wolves broke into the manor and dragged me into the clock tower.

I struggled, my voice trembling with terror. "How did you get keys to our home?"

One of the men dangled a set of keys in front of me.

They were Elara's.

"Don't even bother screaming," he sneered. "You're not leaving this tower today."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please, don't hurt me… I'm begging you…"

In the end, my pleas were useless. They pinned me down, ready to assault me, whispering filthy taunts in my ear as one of them readied a camera.

I fought back with everything I had. In the struggle, the back of my head slammed against the corner of the tower's silver altar. Blood gushed out instantly.

They panicked and fled.

I gathered my last ounce of strength, dragged myself to my phone, and licked the blood from the screen to dial for help.

Amidst the noise of the party, they had severed all external mind-links, ignoring my pleas.

"Pretending to be dying again? Stop the act! Your father and I don't have time for your drama! We've already severed the mind-link!"

Only my fated mate, Ryder, answered my call.

"Save me… Ryder, I'm dying…"

His reply was cold and sharp. "Seraphina, enough. Today is Elara's big day, and there's a limit to your attention-seeking! I already told you I'd get you a gift to celebrate your appointment!"

But… Ryder, I was already dying.

A bitter smile touched my lips. Too bad. You'll never get the chance to make it up to me.

Within 24 hours, the clock tower, which no one ever entered, would begin to reek of decay.

Elara always said she wished I would die so no one would compete with her for the pack's glory and our family's love.

Now, her wish had come true.

My soul was trapped in the living room, forced to watch their sickeningly sweet family scene.

My father, Alaric, usually an early sleeper, was wide awake, sitting with Elara as she opened her promotion gifts. My mother, Livia, was online, picking out beautiful gowns, promising Elara a whole new wardrobe for her upcoming promotion trip.

"Mom, I already have so many clothes, my walk-in closet is full," Elara cooed.

"Then we'll put them in Seraphina's room. She's always so focused on her designs she never buys new clothes anyway. She doesn't need a walk-in closet."

"Is that okay? Seraphina will be upset…"

Mother frowned. "Elara, you don't have to be so timid. As your older sister, it’s the least Seraphina can do for you."

Connor sat beside them, diligently peeling moonberry nuts for Elara.

I couldn't say a word, just watching this tender scene unfold.

Turns out, a soul can still cry.

The warmth was theirs; the loneliness was mine.

"But Seraphina isn't back yet, and she hasn't replied to my text," Elara said, her voice pitiful. "Is she still angry with us? I feel terrible that she's not here to celebrate."

At the sound of Elara's voice, the three of them finally shifted their attention from her and remembered me.

Father's brows knitted instinctively. "Forget her. She just wants us all to revolve around her. When will she ever grow up?"

A flash of impatience crossed Mother's face. "It's just some pointless title for her little drawings. Doesn't she realize Elara's promotion only happens once? Why would she pick today of all days to throw a tantrum!"

Elara pouted playfully at my mother. "Mom, don't say that. Seraphina will be sad if she hears you. She practically begged for that Emblem Designer position… Oh, did I say that out loud?"

Despite her words, she couldn't hide the triumphant gleam in her eyes.

I knew Elara was never naive.

Growing up, she could never measure up to me in anything. Even though Father, Mother, and Connor doted on her, always putting her first, Elara would still make up stories, accusing me of stealing her design ideas. And every time, Father would punish me without question.

Since I was little, I told myself that one day, I would find my fated mate and finally know what it felt like to be someone's first choice.

But I never imagined that two years after meeting Ryder, his heart would start to drift toward Elara, too.

I should have been sad, but I was just numb. My soul was too numb to even register a ripple of pain.

The butler brought in a tray of moonberry cakes, all of them Elara's favorite. Naturally, the conversation about me ended.

"Elara, the promotion trials must have been exhausting. Here, have more of your favorites."

Father and Connor kept feeding her until her cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's. She beamed, boasting about her achievements in the pack. Her future was boundless.

Father and Connor listened, showering her with praise.

And I just floated silently to the side.

The clock struck one. I still hadn't appeared.

A flicker of guilt must have crossed Mother’s face, because she finally remembered me. She placed a few of the moonberry cakes Elara disliked on an empty plate and handed it to my brother.

Her expression was strained. "Connor, save this for Seraphina. She can have it when she gets back from her tantrum. Don't let her think we only favor Elara. See? We saved some for her."

I stared at the cakes, feeling nothing.

Connor thought for a moment, then reached for the plate.

Suddenly, Elara screamed, snatching back her hand, which had been resting next to her gifts.

"Mom, it hurts! This gift—it's pure silver!"