I could feel my heart was beating faster. My gaze fixed on my trembling palm. I just slapped my sister, and when I looked up to look at her offended and slightly tearful eyes, I felt a sense of relief.

She deserved this!

Standing up, cleaning any dirt on my clothes, I looked up both at Nayra and Balthar. Needless to say he was furious, I could smell the warning scent coming out of him.

I used to be cautious around him, but now. What do I have to fear? Balto… everything had been taken away from me

"You’re uncontrollable, Elmyra! Don’t you realize you’re hurting your sister?" Balthar shouted.

I let his words fell on deaf ears. My own rage still building up inside of me and I couldn’t tear away my glare at Nayra.

"You watch your words, Nayra,” I warned Nayra. “You had no freaking rights to slander my son like that. Our blood ties be damned!"

Nayra held Balthar closer to her, I could sense fear coming out of her voice. "A-alpha Balthar, let’s just drop this matter. If my sister couldn’t admit his son is faking his illness, then let it be. Don’t fight because of me."

“Balto was really ill!” I screamed at the top of my lungs then shifted my gaze to Balthar.

Holding back my tears from overflowing, I asked him with restrained voice. "Balthar, do you really, really, think that Balto wasn’t sick? Didn’t you see how pale he had became in the past few months?"

Balthar’s silence was enough for an answer.

My heart broke once more knowing that he had doubts of Balto’s honesty. My son had a genuine soul. He still had the typical child behavior of wanting attention, but he’d never fake his own illness for that.

Balto was suffering, for more than a year. If only I got a part of Balthar’s influence as an alpha, I would’ve brought Balto abroad if needed. We I exhausted most sources around Night Howl Pack but not yet contacting healers from abroad.

If it weren’t from Balthar’s restriction, I was certain we could’ve created a better treatment for Balto’s condition.

If Balthar had bothered to truly sit down, and truly see what had happened to Balto. How my son’s condition significantly deteroriate within the span of months, Balthar wouldn’t even believe the lies Nayra was feeding him.

Yet, in reality, he did none of those. He didn’t care.

“Right, of course you didn’t notice. You’re too busy with your ‘tight schedule’ to care.” I said between sobbed as I wiped the tears off my face.

I recalled how Balto had insisted that I just stay by his side. He didn’t want to see any more healers or doctors. His voice, frail and trembling, echoed in my mind as he confessed that he might not have much time left. But he also said he was happiest when I was with him, far more than when anyone else was trying to treat him.

At the time, I refused to accept it. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him. But deep down, I knew—his condition wasn’t improving. The remedies I could find were limited, and hope was slipping away faster than I could grasp.

That’s when I made a decision. I left Balto, promising him I wouldn’t be gone long.

I traveled far, seeking out Balthar, who had ignored my mind link more than once. I went straight to his office, fell to my knees, and begged. I swore that if he granted me permission to reach out to doctors abroad, it would be the last favor I’d ever ask of him.

I still remember the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. It was as if he had been waiting for me to say those words for far too long. His reaction stung, but I pushed the feeling aside—my focus was entirely on saving Balto.

Unfortunately, I was too late. The best healers from abroad could only come the fastest by next week and Balto had died before any of them could treat him.

As my mind returned to reality, I saw Balthar glanced around, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

“Where is that boy? I don’t sense him anywhere,” he asked, his voice sharp. And then the accusation, “Are you hiding him from me?”

I was stunned, disappointment washing over me.

Why now? Why only after Balto’s death did Balthar care enough to ask?

From the very beginning, I was drawn to Balthar, even before my wolf awakened and the whole mating bond became a part of my life.

What started as innocent puppy love grew into something deeper. I found myself constantly pursuing his attention, doing everything I could to make him notice me, hoping that one day he’d look at me the way I looked at him.

But perhaps I tried too hard. Somewhere along the way, he began to resent me for it.

After his coming-of-age ceremony, when he learned that I was his true mate—not Nayra—he only grew colder. Everything I had done to get closer to him, all the gifts, surprises, and efforts to win his heart, he turned around and did for her.

Even though I knew my love was hopelessly one sided, I still stayed by his side. I came to ask myself why I didn’t walk away. Wouldn’t it have been easier to let Balthar go and let Nayra have him?

Was it because of what my parents had said?

They warned me that rejecting a mate bond was a rebellion against the Moon Goddess herself, and it would brought a huge shame on our family. My father always said that no matter how hard we fought it, we werewolves would eventually return to our fated mates. The bond was inevitable.

And so, I continued to love Balthar, even as our families arranged our marriage. That led him to temporarily stop pursuing Nayra, though it didn’t change his feelings. Regardless the chaos of that time, my sister chose to leave, moving to another pack to study. It was there that she found her fated mate.

Balthar’s resentment toward me only deepened after that. He made every effort to avoid any involvement in our mating ceremony, openly declaring in front of both families that a forced marriage didn’t deserve any celebration.

In the end, neither of us could fight the power our families held over us, and the marriage went through.

Years later, Nayra unexpectedly returned from the neighboring pack. Along with her completed studies, she brought news that her fated mate had died in a tragic accident.

Despite finding her whole situation rather odd, I didn’t dwell on it much since my parents didn't really fuss about it too. What I knew was that Nayra would linger around Balthar, and my fated mate would devote his attention for my sister.

Then it struck me.

I understood why Balthar resented me, but why did he treat Balto with such coldness? What had my son done to deserve being treated as if he didn’t even exist?

"Alpha Balthar, I feel nauseous again," my sister suddenly said, leaning into him for support.

My eyes narrowed as I watched them. Their interaction sickened me.

Balthar used to be so handsome, his muscular and masculine features almost mesmerizing. But now? All I could feel was disgust.

Nayra seized the moment and escalated it even further. With her eyes glistening with unshed tears, she pressed closer to him, prompting Balthar to cradle her in his protective embrace.

"My cheek hurt too. Can you check if it’s swollen?" she asked, her voice fragile and pleading.

The scene felt painfully familiar, like a déjà vu.

I'd seen Nayra pull this act many times when we were younger—be it with our parents, the council elders, or our teachers. Always playing the victim, always seeking attention.

She’d always harbored a silent grudge against me. I couldn't pinpoint when it began, but after the Lunaria comet shower, the day sacred to our Dawnwynd Pack, her animosity grew bolder.

That day marked a tradition—the passing of the Lunar Crystalis from the previous holder to someone they deemed worthy. And I was chosen.

The stone was said to strengthen the bond between a wolf and its spirit, granting the wielder an unbreakable connection. But despite possessing it, I had never summoned its power. I had been too afraid.

Now, with Balto gone, I had nothing left to cling to. Even though I knew my bond with my wolf was weak, I lost the will to even try to repair it.

"Apologize to your sister, Elmyra," Balthar demanded, his glare cold and piercing.

I lifted my chin defiantly, meeting his gaze. "No way!"

I could tell by the silence and the flicker of shock in Balthar’s eyes that he hadn’t expected my defiance.

If it were me a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have dared to disobey him. Back then, I was always careful, doing everything I could to stay on his good side, terrified of losing what little trust he had left in me. More than anything, I feared that my mistakes would put Balto at an even greater disadvantage.

But now, something had shifted within me.

Balthar quickly regained his usual calm, the stoic mask he’d perfected as alpha of the Night Howl pack slipping back into place.

“You wouldn’t want to see me angrier than I already am,” he said, though his voice had softened, his previous fury noticeably fading.

I felt a surge of skepticism at his words.

Why should I care? No matter how much I devoted myself to him, he had never truly acknowledged it. Especially when Nayra was still by his side.

Then, a faint ringing echoed in my mind, the familiar whistle signaling the pack alpha’s call through the mind link. Moments later, Balthar’s wolf guards emerged from various directions, standing ready to block my path.

The alpha crossed his arms over his chest. To anyone else, it would look like confidence, but I knew him too well—he was hiding his anxiety. He tried to maintain his cold, detached expression as he addressed me.

"I’ll give you another chance. Apologize to Nayra."

Nayra’s eyes lit up immediately. Her feigned frailty disappeared, replaced by a smug, victorious smile. She tugged gently on Balthar’s sleeve, her voice soft but dripping with false sweetness.

"You didn’t have to call your warriors, Alpha. I’m sure Elmyra didn’t mean to slap me."

Balthar chuckled darkly. "You’re too kind, even after what she’s done. She said it herself—she doesn’t care that you’re sisters."

His gaze hardened as he turned to me, his voice cold and final. "Anyone who hurts you will pay the price. Blood ties be damned."

My ears twitched at his words, and before I could react, the wolf guards forced me to my knees, pushing my head down. When I looked up, I caught the satisfied smirk playing on Balthar’s lips.

Just then, Nayra stepped forward. "Alpha, stop!"

Balthar hesitated, then signaled the guards to release me.

"Your guards are strong," Nayra said, casting a glance at me. "I’m afraid my sister won’t survive their strength. She’s still my sister, after all. If anyone should teach her a lesson, let it be me."

I gritted my teeth, my body tense with rage. Her intervention wasn’t kindness—it was a calculated move and I knew it all too well.

Balthar gave a curt nod of approval, and before I could brace myself, Nayra slapped me across the face. Not once, but twice. The sharp sting burns both of my cheeks.

A gasp escaped Nayra’s lips soon after, her tone masked in horror. “Oh no…” Her voice trembled with regret, but her expression betrayed her. If Balthar were in my place, he’d see the triumphant gleam hidden beneath her feigned remorse.

She turned to him, her voice quivering. “Alpha, I... I’ve hurt my own sister. Am I doing the right thing?”

Balthar chuckled, a cold, short sound as he stepped forward, ruffling her hair as if she were a child. “I've told you, Nayra. You’re too kind. She slapped you first, and this is what she deserved,” he said, his tone dismissive.

The guards finally released me, and I crumpled to the floor. Balthar’s gaze was locked on me, unyielding, as though I were something beneath him. “You still owe Nayra an apology.”

Like hell I did! Nayra was the one who started this.

She was the one who slandered Balto, accusing him of faking his illness. How could this Alpha be so blind to the truth?

I glared up at him, my voice laced with venom. “She owes ME an apology!” I shouted, a feral snarl tearing from my throat.

I could feel my wolf stirring inside, weak but simmering with rage, threatening to overtake me. My gaze bore into Balthar, burning with loathing. “Curse you, Balthar. I pray you rot in the deepest part of the abyss.”

His brow furrowed, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of unease cross his face, unsettled by the fury behind my words.