My father was silent for three seconds.

Then came his reaction, trembling with emotion, nearly losing his voice.

“Aurora, you are finally willing to come home.”

I gripped the communication stone, my chest tightening until it hurt.

He continued, his tone gentle, as if afraid I might break.

“All these years we sought so many outstanding werewolf families for you, but you refused to meet any of them. I thought you would never come back.”

“Child, we saw every hardship you endured.”

“You coming home is the greatest comfort to us.”

I closed my eyes, my voice rough. “Dad, I was wrong.”

My father drew a soft breath, his tone firm and reassuring.

“It is alright. It is never too late to turn back. I will come for you in one week.”

When the link disconnected, I finally realized something.

I was not unwanted.

I had simply trapped myself in the wrong place.

I was about to continue packing when Henry pushed the door open.

He did not expect me to have wiped my tears so quickly. Seeing the communication stone in my hand, he frowned.

“Who were you talking to?”

My heart tightened. I slipped the stone into my pocket and answered with a flat, steady tone.

“No one. I connected the wrong link.”

Henry clearly did not believe me. His frown deepened. As always, he stepped forward, intending to take my communication stone to check it himself.

I was about to step back when a fragile, trembling voice sounded from the doorway.

“Henry. I am scared. Why are you not coming?”

The voice was soft and shaky, yet sweetened on purpose.

Henry froze for a heartbeat, then moved toward the door as if pulled by a string.

I followed him out and saw the scene at the entrance. My chest tightened painfully.

Demi stood there with one finger pressed lightly to her lips, a faint red mark at the corner of her mouth. The kind of mark that looked more like something she bit herself.

Henry immediately took her hand, his brows knitting with concern. “What happened?”

Demi lowered her head like a frightened young creature. “Your clan house placed the marriage painting too low. I did not notice and bumped into it.”

I let out a soft, cold laugh.

The marriage painting had hung there for five years without hurting anyone.

What scratched her was not the frame.

It was me.

It was the image of me in that painting.

Henry looked toward the marriage painting on the wall with a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

“It is indeed placed unreasonably. Aurora, have someone take it down and put it in storage.”

Demi stood beside him, eyes lowered, unable to hide the faint upward curve at the corner of her lips.

As if telling me

He only cares about her.

I did not step away.

I looked up calmly. “The storage room is full. There is no space.”

Henry’s expression darkened instantly.

Demi pressed her fingers lightly, inhaling through her teeth. “Henry, it hurts.”

That barely visible scratch was treated by him as if she had been bitten by a wild beast.

The next moment, he spoke coldly.

“Then burn it.”

The air fell silent.

I froze for a moment, though I was not surprised.

The old me would have felt my heart tearing apart, unwilling to let go of that marriage painting.

But now, all I felt was relief.

I nodded. “Alright.”

Henry blinked, as if surprised that I agreed without hesitation.

He likely could not understand

that I no longer cared about the marriage painting or him.

I called for the servants and had the painting taken down. Then I carried it myself to the clan fire in the courtyard.

When the flames rose and swallowed it, I felt as if I had burned away all the humility and illusions of the past five years.

Because Demi had just returned to North Ridge from a foreign clan and was not used to staying alone in an outside camp, Henry naturally and smoothly invited her to live in our clan house.

And I, the supposed mistress of the home, was never asked for my opinion.

I stood at the top of the stairs, hearing his calm voice. “Demi, stay here for now. After a while, you will get used to it.”

She looked up at him, eyes slightly red, her voice so soft and fragile it could melt an entire tribe.

“But this is your and Aurora’s home. If I move in, will it not be too disturbing?”

Henry immediately wrapped an arm around her, his expression gentle enough to soften stone.

“It will not. Aurora has always been generous. She will not be upset over something so small.”

I stood on the staircase and did not step aside.

When I heard those words, I almost laughed.

Not upset.

Yes, the old me was indeed like that.

Humble, yielding, silent, retreating until there was nothing left of me but a shadow.

But that was already the past.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my voice steady as if speaking about someone else’s life.

“I will not be upset. Demi, you can stay here.”

Demi paused, surprised that I agreed so calmly.

A trace of unease flickered in her eyes, as if she could not guess what I was thinking.

Henry, however, assumed it was my usual obedience.

He instructed the servants to carry Demi’s luggage into the most spacious, brightest, newly furnished room in the house.

That room was the one he once said

“When we have a child, this will be their room.”

How ironic.

Now it had become the place where his favored she-wolf would stay.

I watched the luggage being moved in without saying a word.

Although there were servants in this house, it had always been me handling the cleaning and cooking.

Because Henry was demanding and picky, even the elders most skilled in the kitchen could not satisfy him.

Only the food I cooked, he would eat a few bites.

Yet no matter how much effort I put into it, he never once praised me, never once asked about it, never once remembered it.

It was as if my labor had always been meant to be taken for granted.

Demi stood at the doorway, her gaze lifted slightly toward me, carrying a faint and almost invisible triumph.

At that moment, I shook my head lightly and spoke the four words that stunned everyone.

“I cannot do it.”

Henry turned toward me immediately, instinctively drawn by the unfamiliar tone.

In his memory, I had never disobeyed anyone in his family.

This was the first time I had refused.

He was just about to speak when Demi’s eyes reddened, her lips trembling as she lowered her head.

“It is my fault. I should not have moved in. I am just an outsider. It is not right for Aurora to cook for me.”

She turned as if to go upstairs to pack her bags, but Henry grabbed her arm.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

I ignored him and brushed past.

I had only taken two steps when my vision went black. It felt as if all strength had been drained from my body, and I collapsed without warning.

When I woke again, I was lying on a wooden bed in the Moonstone Healing Hall.

The clan shaman pulled aside the curtain and entered, saying,

“Miss Aurora, you are three months pregnant.”

“What. Pregnant.”

The words escaped me without thought.

Seeing my disbelief, the shaman handed me the rune-carved bone diagnostic.

Pregnant for eight weeks. The carved text pierced me so sharply my breath stopped for a moment.

I braced against the bed and forced myself up, dragging my weakened body back to the clan house.

The diagnostic bone was clenched tightly in my hand, its edges pressing my fingertips until they turned pale.

The moment I pushed the door open, a strong mix of smoke and heavy perfume hit my chest, making it tighten.

In the living room, Henry lounged lazily on the fur sofa, his chest marked with unmistakable traces of intimacy.

Demi wore his clothes, the hem barely covering her thighs as she leaned against him with a soft laugh.

Her hair was messy, and the flush on her face had not faded.

One glance was enough to know what had just happened.

I stood at the doorway before speaking, yet Henry was already frowning at me.

“Why are you wandering around again. I told you to stay home.”

My throat felt blocked. I could not say a single word.

The bone diagnostic in my hand was crushed out of shape by my grip.

Demi glanced at me, let out a cold little laugh, and leaned even closer into him. Her voice softened into something syrupy.

“Her face looks terrible. Is she sick?”

Henry let out a sharp, impatient scoff. He picked up a heavy stone ash basin from the table and hurled it at me.

It hit my forehead. A burst of white exploded before my eyes.

Before I could react, my body fell backward and the back of my skull struck the corner of a table with a dull, brutal thud.

A ringing filled my ears. I collapsed on the floor, blood sliding down my forehead and dripping onto the wooden board beneath me.

I tried to push myself up, but I could not even lift my hand.

Henry stood, looked down at me lying motionless on the ground, and spoke with a coldness suited for speaking to empty air.

“I told you not to run around. Do you not understand simple words.”

As they walked past me, they even kicked me aside.

Demi wrapped her arm around Henry's, her voice tender enough to melt into his bones.

“Forget about her. Let us go.”

Henry held her by the waist. Neither of them looked back as they left.

The thud of the wooden door closing swallowed the last bit of my consciousness.

Blood kept flowing down my forehead, soaking my hair and collar. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but there was only darkness.

In the final flicker of awareness, I still felt the dull throb of the wound from the stone basin. Henry’s and Demi’s laughter drifted farther and farther away, like echoes from another world.

I closed my eyes and allowed the darkness to take me.

If I survived, I would cut this child from my bloodline, leave all of them behind, and begin a new life.

When I woke, dawn was only barely rising.

I changed my clothes and prepared to go to the Moonstone Healing Hall to schedule a fetal removal ritual.

When Henry returned to the clan house, the home was silent.

He tossed his bone key onto the table. His gaze swept across the surface and suddenly froze.

His eyes landed on the crumpled bone diagnostic, the edges warped from my grip, with dried blood staining its surface.

He picked it up and unfolded it. His entire body stiffened as if struck by lightning.

It was the Moonstone Healing Hall’s diagnostic bone.

The engraved words were unmistakable.

Pregnant for eight weeks.

The patient’s name carved clearly.

Aurora.

His hand visibly trembled.

Shock, panic, disbelief. They swept across his face one layer at a time.

All the secrets he hid, all the shame he feared facing, were exposed in that instant.

He knew about his weakened essence veins.

He knew he was barely capable of impregnating a she-wolf.

He knew Demi had never been able to conceive.

And now, I was pregnant.

A nearly impossible chance had somehow happened.

But then he realized the truth.

I had gone to the Moonstone Healing Hall to remove the child.

He grabbed the communication stone in a panic and called for me again and again.

I watched the stone vibrate endlessly yet did not answer.

Only when the missed calls reached double digits did I finally connect.

The moment the link opened, his voice tore in frantic desperation.

“Aurora, where are you?”

I stood outside the shaman’s treatment chamber, expression calm, my tone quiet and plain, as if discussing the weather.

“At the Healing Hall. I am about to enter the removal room.”

The other side went silent.

Then he suddenly roared.

“What procedure?”

I touched the wound on my forehead and let out a soft laugh.

“Fetal removal, of course. I will not keep this child.”

“No. Aurora, you cannot do this.”

His voice shook.

“That is my child. That is our creation. You cannot get rid of him.”

I let out a low, cold laugh.

“Henry, do you deserve to say the word creation.”

“When you and Demi were rolling on my bed, did you think of the child.”

“When you threw a stone basin at my head, did you think of the child.”

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end. Then his voice changed into something I had never heard.

It sounded like a man begging to survive.

“Aurora, I know I was wrong. I truly know I was wrong. Give me another chance. Please. We can start over. I will treat you well. I will treat the child well.”

I did not listen anymore.

I hung up the communication stone, turned it to silent mode, and handed it to the shaman.

I lay down on the Moonstone surgery platform and closed my eyes.

In that moment, I had no hesitation at all.

After the procedure, my body remained weak.

As soon as I stepped out from behind the treatment curtain, I saw my father pacing anxiously outside.

At the sound of movement, he stopped at once and turned toward me.

The next second, he opened his arms, his eyes reddened.

“Child, I came to take you home.”