Chapter 4

Before, whenever I cried, Samuel would hold me tight. That cold, distant Alpha would whisper softly to soothe me, just like Cherry used to.

She always wiped my tears with a handkerchief scented with flowers and herbs. Then, she would hold me close and whisper gently, "Don't cry, Sherry. A face this pretty shouldn't be crying."

It was such a cliche line, but I heard it for years and never grew tired of it.

Now, no one in this world would ever comfort me like that again.

…

The pain kept swallowing me whole. Sometimes I would forget to take my medicine; sometimes I took too much.

I started leaving scars on myself again.

The pale marks on my wrist that were nearly healed a year ago were now covered by fresh, overlapping wounds.

They looked vicious but weren't fatal.

Eventually, I ran out of medicine. I didn't know how I got through it.

I remembered gulping air like it could fill the hollow left by the missing drugs.

I remembered staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It looked distorted and rippling, as if I were melting away.

I barely made it to Cherry's death anniversary.

That day, the sky was clear. I got up early and forced myself to look decent, then went to buy flowers.

But when I arrived at Cherry's grave, someone had beaten me there.

Mom was already there, with all kinds of offerings laid out.

I walked over with a blank face and placed my flowers down.

Just as I was about to turn and leave, a stone struck the back of my head hard.

I stumbled and almost fell.

The wrapped flowers came undone, scattering across the ground.

Mom's voice was thick with hatred as she screamed hysterically at me and spat out words too cruel to repeat, "What are you doing here? You killed her! How dare you come to see her?"

Then she broke down, weeping loudly. "You should've been the one to die!"

I didn't turn around.

My head throbbed and spun, like I was standing on a cliff's edge above a bottomless sea.

I gripped my hands tightly, forcing myself to clear the haze and pull myself away.

Only when I got into the car did I see a message from Allison. She asked why I hadn't come for so long.

I stared at her profile picture for a while, then slowly typed. "Sorry, there's just been so much going on lately."

Allison replied immediately, "Let me reschedule for you. When can you come?"

"I give up…" I typed.

The cursor blinked in the text box.

In the end, I didn't send that message.

"I'll contact you later."

…

Samuel came home early for the first time in a while. It wasn't Jill who took him home, but a male subordinate.

When he came in, I was squinting at the empty vial. It had been empty for some time.

The subordinate helped Samuel onto the couch, politely excused himself, and left.

Samuel was unusually drunk. The heavy scent of alcohol filled the room. His face was flushed, and his eyes glazed over.

It was just the two of us.

Bright light from the living room fell on Samuel's face. He squinted slightly, but his gaze stayed on me.

I set the vial down and met his gaze.

Suddenly, he struggled to sit up and looked at me.

He didn't come closer but smiled at me with eyes narrowed into slits. His eyes were red-rimmed.

He whispered, "Cherry, I haven't thought about you in so long. I met someone. She looks so much like you. I'm going to have a bonding ceremony with her. I like her a lot. But… But… Her mom says she's the one who killed you."

Time seemed to freeze in that moment.

Everything around us fell silent except the roaring blood in my ears. I stared at Samuel, numb, like I was falling into an ice cellar.

He kept talking, but I didn't hear a word.

He softly called "Cherry" over and over.

How did he know Cherry? She died two years ago after jumping into the sea.

So that was it.

It was no wonder Samuel was oddly excited the first time he met me. No wonder he was so kind in the beginning.

No wonder he had said, "If it weren't for her face…"

It turned out he was drawn to me because my face resembled Cherry's. What I had mistaken for salvation and true love was actually just another deep abyss.

I stumbled into the study and knocked the entire bookshelf down. Pages flew, and books were torn apart. The room became a storm, and I was the eye of it.

I had to find proof and truth. Something to make this madness make sense.

Then, I saw it—a graduation photo from Werewolf Academy. In it were Samuel, with his youthful face, and Cherry, beautiful in her uniform skirt.

My foggy mind finally cleared a little.

But just moments later, Samuel staggered in and snatched the photo from me.

He was clearly drunk, but somehow, he seemed sober. "Why… Why wasn't it you who died?"

The shield I had built in my heart shattered completely.

My nerves snapped like broken wires. The noise inside my head exploded. I lost all reason.

With all my strength, I pushed him away. "I'll give her my life, then. One for one. That should make things right."

Samuel slammed into the wall. His smirk was still playing at the corner of his mouth until he saw my face. He realized I meant it.

But I didn't look at him. I had already started running.

"Sherry!" His voice cracked with fear as he lunged after me.

But he was drunk and couldn't keep up. His fingers grazed my shirt, but he only tore a piece of fabric.

I flung the door open and vanished into the night. The cold wind carried Samuel's endless calls, but I didn't look back.