7

I was late. The auctioneer's voice echoed through the elegant hall: "And now, ladies and gentlemen, our final item of the evening."

"The Violet Moonglow, one of the rarest healing crystals known to our kind. This remarkable specimen has been verified to significantly soothe an injured wolf's suffering."

My heart stopped. Three months ago, during a particularly painful full moon, I had mentioned to Derek how much I wished for such a crystal. Echo, my wolf, had been struggling with each transformation since the injure.

Derek had sympathetically explained that such crystals were extremely rare and prohibitively expensive. He'd promised to try to find one but said it was unlikely.

Yet here it was. But he didn’t tell me.

I scanned the crowd and spotted Derek near the front, his tall frame impossible to miss. Sarah stood beside him, elegantly dressed in a shimmering gown, her arm wrapped intimately around his.

"Bidding starts at one million dollars," announced the auctioneer.

The price climbed rapidly—two million, three million, five million.

Sarah squeezed Derek's arm, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Ten million," Derek's voice rang out, silencing the room.

Applause erupted as Derek made his way to the stage. The crystal was carefully handed to him, its purple glow illuminating his features. He returned to Sarah and placed it gently in her hands.

She squealed in delight, throwing her arms around his neck. The crowd around them smiled appreciatively.

"The Alpha certainly knows how to treat his mate," someone nearby commented.

"Ten million for a healing crystal—that's true devotion," agreed another.

My hands trembled. The crystal that could have eased my wolf's suffering—the one Derek said he couldn't find—now nestled in Sarah's hands, a ten-million-dollar gift.

The small clutch I'd been holding slipped from my fingers, hitting the marble floor with a crack.

Derek turned to look.

I wasn't wearing a beautiful gown. I'd grown so thin. I hadn't dared look in a mirror for a long time, afraid to see my increasingly prominent cheekbones and the skull-like appearance of my face.

I knew he'd seen me.

Because his expression changed instantly, looking stricken.

Across the bustling crowd, we stared at each other.

I just looked at him silently, neither smiling nor crying.

I saw his face change, watched him release Sarah's hand, attempting to reach me. Through the crowd, his steps appeared labored.

Suddenly I smiled at him, then turned and left.

When I got home, I went straight to my old room.

The tangled threads in my mind intertwined further, impossible to unravel.

The vines around my heart tightened even more, as if they would burst open at any moment.

I finally lost all composure.

I swept everything off my desk, sending it crashing to the floor with a tremendous noise.

It wasn't enough.

The books on the shelves—I tore at them frantically. Paper fragments fluttered to the ground like unseasonable snow.

Still not enough.

Small ornaments on the shelves, makeup and skincare products, intricate crafts Derek had brought me from his trips, the building blocks we'd assembled together...

Destructive urges and rage intertwined, emotional impulses running rampant through my mind.

The floor was a complete mess, chaotic, just like my shattered life.

When I came back to my senses, silver scissors were already pressed against my arm.

And Echo was frantically crying at my feet.

The cat's cries were sharp and urgent. When she saw me look down, she suddenly quieted, opening her mouth in what looked like a silly smile.

The silver scissors clattered to the floor as Echo leaped toward me, meowing as she jumped.

I numbly gathered her into my arms. She nuzzled against me with her furry head, her small body warm.

Holding her, I suddenly began to cry.

All the impulses faded away. The destruction brought me no satisfaction, only leaving a bottomless black hole in my heart.

Such torment.