Chapter 4

Seven years ago, my entire life was turned upside down by that fire.

I had always dreamed of going to the Werewolf Research Academy.

But that dream was destroyed.

My wolf was severely injured in the fire, and my eyes were burned—my vision permanently damaged.

Becoming a werewolf researcher became nothing more than an unreachable fantasy.

Two years passed, but Draven never came back.

I only saw his mother once during that time.

She showed me a few photos. In one of them, a she-wolf stood close beside him.

In that photo, I saw his handsome face, his strong build, and that same confident, defiant smile—

the same one I had fallen in love with all those years ago.

He hadn't changed at all.

I wanted to smile.

But I couldn't.

My heart had already shattered into too many pieces.

I held those photos in my hands, numb and hollow, not even knowing how I made it back home afterward.

But I didn't have the luxury of breaking down. I had no time to grieve.

Because I had to survive. I had to earn money. I had to keep my brother alive.

That same night—the night Draven left for overseas—

a fire broke out in our den.

My mother and my younger brother were still inside.

By the time I rushed back, the flames had already swallowed the place whole.

And my mother...

was burned beyond recognition.

Burying his face into my mother's chest, my little brother Jim—only five years old at the time—was trembling.

His small back and arms were covered in burns. The scars ran deep, both on his body and in his heart.

Ever since that day, I had only one goal—

To earn enough money for his surgeries, to raise him with my own hands,

to be both his sister and his mother,

and to make sure he had a future... a normal one, with school, laughter, and safety.

.....

The next day, while walking home from the library, it happened.

Someone suddenly crashed into me from behind.

"Make room!" the man shouted as he ran past.

The impact jolted me, and my glasses were knocked clean off my face.

I heard them hit the pavement with a sharp crack—

then shatter completely as the man's heel crushed them into pieces.

Panic flooded my chest. I spun around, trying to chase after him, but all I could see was a blurry mess of color and light.

He was already gone.

My hands trembled as I knelt down and picked up what was left of my glasses.

How could I get home without them?

Night had already fallen, and without my glasses, the world was a shapeless blur.

I can't even remember how many strangers I accidentally bumped into on the street that night—

until I slammed straight into another figure.

However, the person I bumped into didn't scold me.

He didn't complain, didn't scoff, didn't even step away.

Instead, he stood there silently, as if observing me... quietly.

"Excuse me, sir," I said softly, my voice trembling.

"Could you take me to the nearest optician? My glasses… they were broken, and I need to buy a new pair."

I couldn't make out his features at all. The streetlights were dim, and without my glasses, the world was little more than a shadowy haze.

To my surprise, he didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't leave.

Just silence… long, unreadable silence.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, lowering my head.

"I didn't mean to bother you."

I turned slightly, preparing to fumble my way forward on my own. But then—

A familiar voice, low and stunned, sliced through the stillness behind me.

"Bella… Are you serious? Did you bump into me… on purpose?"

I froze.

The air turned cold. My breath caught. That voice—

I hadn't heard it in years. And yet, I could never forget it.

Was it really him?

Or was fate simply playing the cruelest trick?