The moment Alpha Caius’s voice rang out, a fleeting trace of apprehension flickered across Seraphina’s delicate face. She instinctively shrank back, her slender fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if seeking shelter.

       A familiar bitterness curled in my chest, an old ache I had long since grown used to. It had been half a year since Seraphina returned from another pack—unexpected, unannounced. Alpha Caius had simply informed me that she had nowhere else to go. Without so much as a discussion, he had brought her into our home, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

       At first, I hadn’t minded. If anything, I had pitied the fragile girl. I welcomed her, cared for her, made sure she was fed and warm. I had wanted to be kind, to fulfill my role as Luna with dignity and grace.

       Then, one night changed everything.

       Seraphina had lifted a glass of red wine, tipped it over herself, and collapsed at my feet in a trembling heap. Her tearful whimpers painted a pitiful picture—one that any outsider would have mistaken for genuine terror. To anyone passing by, it would have seemed as though I had tormented her for days.

       That night, Alpha Caius’s gaze toward me shifted. He didn’t demand an explanation, didn’t give me a chance to speak. His fury struck like a thunderclap, and before I could even process what was happening, I found myself dragged to the attic, locked away without food or warmth for three long days. When he finally returned, his voice was colder than I had ever heard before.

       “Aeris, you’ve truly let me down,” he said, his eyes sharp with disgust. “You have no idea what Seraphina means to me. If you ever touch her again, I don’t care if you’re my Luna—I will make you regret it.”

       From that night on, it never stopped. One carefully orchestrated incident after another. Every time, Seraphina played the victim while I was cast as the villain. With each passing day, Alpha Caius’s patience with me unraveled, his once-warm gaze turning to ice.

       I told myself to endure. At least until my pup was born. Once I brought my child safely into this world, I would ask for rejection and leave without a trace. But fate had other plans—Seraphina leaped from a building before I could act.

       The supposed reason? Hateful messages and vicious recordings—evidence that pointed directly at me.

       The words were cruel, designed to break a person’s will. But they weren’t mine. Yet, no matter how desperately I pleaded, Alpha Caius wouldn’t listen. His entire focus remained on Seraphina’s frail body lying in a hospital bed, her tears slipping down her pale cheeks. His rage was absolute, his heartache for her so deep that his eyes burned red.

       Even with our pup nearly due, his only concern was avenging his precious Seraphina.

       “Alpha… it’s Luna. She… You might want to see for yourself.”

       The Beta assistant stood before Alpha Caius, his voice hesitant. Alpha Caius’s grip on his pen faltered, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

       “She’s still acting out?” His tone was laced with impatience.

       The Beta assistant hesitated, fingers twisting together. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “No, Alpha… It’s not that. It’s just… Luna isn’t breathing.”

       For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them—too long to be insignificant, yet not enough to carry meaning. Then, a low chuckle rumbled from Alpha Caius’s throat, cold and dismissive.

       “She’s really resorting to this? Faking death just to avoid taking responsibility?” His voice hardened with disdain. “Tell her—whether she’s breathing or not, she still owes Seraphina an apology. If she refuses, she’ll face the consequences.”

       The Beta assistant swallowed hard, sweat beading along his brow. He wanted to argue, but the storm in Alpha Caius’s gaze kept him silent. Wordlessly, he retreated.

       In Alpha Caius’s arms, Seraphina tilted her head, her wide, innocent eyes shimmering with concern.

       “Caius, maybe you should let it go,” she murmured, her voice laced with fragile sincerity. “Even if Aeris dislikes me, she’s still your mate. As long as I can stay by your side, I can endure it.”

       Alpha Caius’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her against him.

       “You don’t need to fear that petty woman,” he reassured her. “Aeris isn’t worth your worry.” His voice softened into something dangerously gentle. “This time, I’ll make sure she understands her place.”

       “But—”

       “No buts. Just trust me.”

       A single tear splashed onto my hand, cold and weightless, yet it cut deeper than any blade. Only then did I realize—I was crying.

       So even a soul can feel pain.

       Alpha Caius said nothing more, but for the rest of the afternoon, his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. His fingers drummed restlessly against the desk, and every few minutes, his eyes flicked toward the door. By the time an hour had passed, he had glanced over more than ten times.

       Finally, with an irritated sigh, he slammed his laptop shut. Running a hand through his hair, he forced a gentle smile and stroked Seraphina’s soft curls.

       “I don’t know what kind of game Aeris thinks she’s playing,” he mused, voice deceptively calm. “But I’ll go drag her back to apologize right now.”

       At the entrance of the Pack’s desolate clearing, Alpha Caius strode forward with purpose, his impatience crackling in the air like static. Even from a distance, his keen gaze locked onto the towering wooden frame ahead.