Chapter 3

I settled into the dilapidated storage room on the south side.

Mom lived like a taut bowstring, exhausting herself every day just to offer a flicker of comfort at the slightest frown from Ryan.

She hadn't yet undergone a marking ceremony with Ryan; or rather, he hadn't decided if he wanted to make her his Luna. Her current status teetered precariously between mistress of the house and high-ranking attendant.

One day, I was eating quietly in the side gallery at noon. Ryan's seat remained empty while Mom sat further down the table. In the silence, an urgent mind-link echoed in both my mind and Mom's.

Mom immediately looked up. Her silver-gray eyes flashed with displeasure. "Alice, deal with it."

Ryan's towering figure appeared before us. He seemed to have just returned from patrolling the outer edges of the pack's territory. He frowned slightly.

I hurried out as Sunna's sharp, frantic voice exploded in my head. "Alice! Did you take Dad's ancestral wolf-head talisman?"

"What talisman?" I asked.

Sunna's voice was thick with agitation and accusation. "Stop pretending. The one carved from obsidian! Dad wore it all the time! He said that it's gone. You must have stolen it before you left! That thing stabilizes the wolf, and it's worth a fortune!"

A deep weariness washed over me. "I didn't take it."

In my previous life, Dad had done the same. He had started selling off his possessions just to survive.

Sunna argued forcefully and unreasonably. "Dad is in a terrible state right now. Without the talisman, he has even less control over himself! He's been cursing you, calling you a cursed jinx who took away his last bit of luck!"

"Sunna, I'll say it again. I didn't take it. Choosing to follow Dad was your own decision. You should have understood long ago what you would be facing."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air. I severed the link and blocked all contact from Sunna.

As I turned to head back, a familiar warmth suddenly gushed from my nostrils. I instinctively tilted my head back and covered it, but the warm liquid quickly flowed over my lips and dripped onto the cold stone railing, spreading into a crimson stain. It was happening again.

I fumbled through my pockets in a panic, only to find a scrap of rough cloth. Covering my nose and mouth, I lowered my head and hurried toward a secluded washroom in the corner of the main castle's first floor.

I turned on the faucet, splashing water onto my forehead and the back of my neck while firmly pressing my nostrils.

A deep voice sounded from behind me. "What happened?"

My body stiffened. Through the gaps in the flowing water, I caught Ryan's reflection in the mirror. He stood at the doorway, and I hadn't noticed when he arrived. His massive frame nearly blocked out the light.

I haphazardly wiped my face with my soaked sleeve. The water and blood mixed, making me look even more disheveled. "It's nothing, Alpha Ryan. Perhaps the air is too dry, or I'm just struggling to adjust to the environment."

I kept my head down, and my voice was muffled against my palm.

Ryan stepped inside silently and handed over a clean, dark cotton handkerchief. "Clean it up."

I took the handkerchief and pressed it to my nose.

"Does this happen often?" he asked.

His gaze didn't leave my face.

I kept up the lie and answered, "Occasionally."

The physical backlash from my naturally fractured wolf was intensifying. Nosebleeds, dizziness, and sharp pains in my marrow came more and more frequently. It felt as if my life were slipping through my fingertips at an accelerating pace.

Ryan didn't speak immediately. Those few seconds of silence stretched for what seemed like a century.

"The pack has healers."

His tone made his sentence seem like both a statement and a command.

"There's no need to trouble them. It's an old ailment; I'm used to it," I said.

I tried to turn sideways and slip past him, away from the suffocating confines of that tiny space.

He called my name. "Alice."

His voice wasn't loud, yet it acted like an invisible barrier, blocking my path. "In the Bloodclaw pack, you may choose silence, but you don't have to live like an antique waiting to be shattered."

I froze and looked up.

"If you're in pain, there's no need to pretend that you're fine."

After he finished speaking, he turned and left with steady strides, as though he had just handled a trivial matter in passing.

I stood alone in the cold washroom, clutching the cotton handkerchief that carried his scent. The metallic tang of blood in my nose was gradually replaced by the crisp, cool scent of the cloth.