Chapter 6

In the middle of the night, I was suddenly awakened by crying and screaming. My heightened hearing as a werewolf even allowed me to hear the frantic footsteps downstairs.

I had just sat up when my door was kicked open from the outside.

Linda rushed in crying. Before I could even gather my thoughts, several heavy slaps landed on my face.

"How could you be so cruel? Where's your conscience? Wasn't hurting her during the day enough? Now you even want to kill her?"

Linda threw herself into Dad's arms, wailing. "She knew very well that Ella—despite being a werewolf—has an extremely weak constitution and is severely allergic to high concentrations of evening primrose pollen. And yet, she deliberately sprinkled that pollen on Ella's bed and pillow.

"She wanted to take our daughter's life! This is murder! Just because Ella accidentally allowed the dog to ruin her mother's evening primrose, she has to take revenge like this!"

"Alright, don't cry. Luckily, Ella took the antidote in time and is fine." Dad soothed her gently while looking at me with disgust. "Ivy, you've disappointed me too much.

"Move out of the manor tomorrow. Keeping you here will only bring chaos to the whole family. I can't let a dangerous being like you harm the future Luna."

Linda's crying stopped immediately at those words.

I looked at the man before me. He used to be my closest family member in this world and an Elder of the Turner family.

He once loved me immensely—I was his only pure-blood descendant and was treasured like a gem.

But later, everything changed. I was like a protagonist in a drama who had all her glory stolen away, gradually becoming left with nothing.

At first, I couldn't understand why things turned out that way. I cried, I made scenes, and I fought back.

But now, I finally understood—the father-and-daughter bond between us had completely run its course.

…

On the day I moved out of Turner Manor, Dad said to me, "Once your mother's memorial is over, I'll bring you back home. You need to reflect on yourself and learn to control your wolf."

I didn't respond to him.

Once they left, I took all the photos from over the years—the ones of Ethan and me, of Dad and me—and cut them into pieces before throwing them into the fireplace.

Finally, I burned the white gown that I had sewn three years ago. I had it secretly made from the most precious lunar silk after Ethan's family proposed our mating.

It was the sacred gown I had imagined countless times since I was a pup, the one I would wear during the marking ceremony on a full moon night.

But now, I burned it with my own hands, along with my last bit of attachment to this pack.