Chapter 2

My condition had actually started to stabilize when Samuel claimed me as his mate.

When the wolfsbane fever was at its worst, I had no choice but to lock myself in a room. I couldn't eat or drink because every ounce of strength I had was already spent just trying to endure the pain.

Samuel felt sorry for me. He took time off work and dragged me away on a long trip to distract me. We went from blazing deserts to frozen tundras.

He proposed on a lavender-covered hillside.

When he kneeled on one knee to slip the ring onto my finger, his expression was nothing but reverent.

"Sherry Nicholson, I'll stay by your side for the rest of my life."

I used to think Samuel was my anchor. When the pain pushed me to the edge of consciousness, he was the only thing that held me back.

When I was torn between the urge to die and the desperate will to live, he tipped the scale.

He stepped into my life at its darkest, like a stream of sunlight, chasing away the pain and lighting up everything.

But now, as I looked at his cold expression, I sank to my knees in humiliation and licked the spilled medicine off the floor.

The carpet scraped against my tongue, and Samuel's mocking gaze scraped against my heart.

He let go of the vial. It clattered across the floor and rolled to the side.

I scrambled over and picked it up, clutching it close. There was still a bit of the medicine left inside. I tucked it against my chest like it was something precious.

The maid had already slipped away, unable to bear watching me like this.

Samuel just watched me with a cold, detached gaze. "I never knew you were this twisted. Sherry, you killed your sister. This is just karma. You deserve every bit of it."

I didn't look up. I just held the vial tighter.

I had a pretty good guess when he found out.

I had never told Samuel why I had wolfsbane fever.

But after we got engaged, he kept saying he wanted to meet Mom and get her blessing.

My relationship with Mom had never been good. The resentment from my childhood still lingered. And truth be told, she had always hated me.

Eventually, Samuel stopped asking.

A week ago, he vanished for a day. When he came back, he treated me differently.

Three days ago, he brought his assistant, Jill Bennett, home.

I woke up to noise downstairs, thinking he was working late on pack matters. I was just about to ask if he was tired, but the sight before me stopped me in my tracks.

Jill was gorgeous. Her wavy hair fell across Samuel's chest as she leaned in and kissed him.

He simply turned his face slightly, letting her kiss his cheek. He didn't refuse.

Jill giggled like a cat who had gotten the cream. "Samuel, your Luna's still here. Should I not be doing this?"

Her voice brimmed with barely concealed smugness.

The whole living room reeked of alcohol.

I heard Samuel's voice grow cold as he said, "Jill, ignore her. She doesn't deserve respect. If it weren't for her face…"

I didn't hear the rest. The wolfsbane fever flared up all of a sudden. Nausea, pain, and a searing heat spread from my chest through every inch of my body.

I staggered to the bathroom and collapsed over the sink, dry heaving.

When tears blurred my vision, I remembered the first thing Samuel ever said to me when we first met. "A face this pretty shouldn't be crying."

By the time I had retched myself empty, Samuel was standing at the doorway, watching me fall apart. "You can't even take that? But what you did was worse."

I didn't know when he left.

By the time the spilled medicine had dried on the floor, I was the only one left in the room.

I sat amid the mess, staring blankly at the picture frame lying nearby. Eventually, I picked it up.

A sharp shard cut my hand, and bright red blood dripped onto my face in the photo.

It was a candid shot of Samuel and me, taken during one of our trips.

He was carrying my favorite dessert, grinning as he walked toward me. I had my back to him, looking at the moon.

The crowd around us blurred into nothing more than a backdrop.

Only the Alpha bringing dessert for his Luna and the Luna watching the moon were in focus.

The woman who took the photo handed it to me with a kind smile and said, "May happiness be with you both forever."

Back then, Samuel was holding my hand. He leaned in and whispered, "Sherry, I'll help you heal. We're going to be happy forever, okay?"

That moment felt like soaking in warm sunlight. I felt like the luckiest she-wolf on earth.

I wanted to heal desperately, so I threw myself into treatment. I used suppressants with horrible side effects and tried every method they offered.

I used to fight through it all on my own. When the despair got too loud, I would cut into my skin again and again to trade physical pain for a break from the mental agony.

As long as I didn't die—as long as I kept my promise to Cherry—I would be fine.

Then Samuel came, and I started seeing healers.

But just when I was one step away from escaping the pain, the hand that reached out to me shoved me back instead.

Once again, I fell into the darkness.

Samuel stopped coming home.

Mom's texts came in like clockwork every day. She called me a freak and called me stupid. She asked why it wasn't I who died.

I didn't dare read too much either.

My unstable emotions were a ticking bomb. I had no idea what I would become if the wolfsbane fever ever fully broke loose.