Chapter 2

The surgery was set for two days later.

Lucien never came during those two days. My parents did.

They arrived carrying herbs and broth, as though any of it could soften what they had come to ask of me. My mother hurried to my bedside and took my hand, her eyes already red.

“Elara, you’ve suffered.”

For one foolish instant, hope stirred in me. “Mother, did you come to”

“Sylvie has always been frail,” my father cut in. “This time, you have to save her.”

I slowly pulled my hand back. “She is not my sister.”

Sylvie was the daughter of my parents’ closest friends. Years ago, those two died in a wolf-stampede at the border while saving my parents’ lives, and before they died, they entrusted Sylvie to our family.

At first I welcomed her. I shared my room, my clothes, and the things I liked best. Then things began to go missing. A torn cloak became proof of my temper. A broken charm somehow became my fault. Sylvie would stand behind my parents with red eyes and say almost nothing, and somehow that silence was always enough.

When I was twelve, my mother found her crying over a ripped shawl and asked why I could never be kinder. When I was fourteen, my father saw bruises on her wrist and believed her when she whispered that I had shoved her, though all I had done was drag her away from a frightened horse.

My mother’s face turned pale. “How can you say she isn’t your sister? Her parents died saving us. We owe them everything.”

“And to repay them, you want my life?”

My father’s expression hardened. “It’s a kidney, not a death sentence. Stop talking like this.”

Beneath the blanket, my fingers curled into my palm.

For most wolves, maybe not.

For me, it was.

Dr. Rowan had already told me my soul-wolf had reached its final collapse. If I stayed still, I might drag out another two days. If they took my kidney, I would not last the month. At most, I had forty-eight hours.

My mother set the broth on the table. “You’ve always been stronger than Sylvie. Since you were little, you could endure what she couldn’t. This once, can’t you just yield?”

That was always how it went. Sylvie cried, and I was told to yield. Sylvie trembled, and I was told to understand.

“You should go,” I said.

My father’s face flushed. “Elara, we are your parents. Watch your tone.”

I closed my eyes and said nothing more.

My mother lingered for a moment, looking at how thin I had become, but in the end she followed my father out.

Silence settled over the room again.

I picked up my phone and called Maeve.

“Maeve, I need a favor. There’s a black case in the bottom drawer of my bedside cabinet. Take it and keep it safe. If I don’t make it off the table, give what’s inside to Lucien.”

The line stayed quiet for a moment.

“Elara… have you really decided?”

“Yes.”

“You fool,” she said, her voice roughening. “I’m coming now.”

She arrived quickly. She didn’t ask questions. She only took the case and pulled me into a tight embrace before she left.

“I’ll find a way to stop this.”

I shook my head. “You won’t.”

This was Lucien’s decision, and if Sylvie asked, he would never turn back.

Once, I believed I owed him a life.

The year the northern wolf keep burned, the fire swallowed the corridor in minutes. I dragged Lucien out half-conscious, his body burning with fever and his hand locked around my wrist.

“Save me,” he had breathed. “Live. I’ll repay this.”

I carried him out. Then the roof beam came down, and I collapsed beside the ruins.

When I woke again, Lucien was already standing at Sylvie’s bedside, looking at her with gratitude. She whispered, “Thank the Moon I reached you in time.”

I was left where I had fallen.

Forgotten.

After that, Lucien and his family treated Sylvie as the girl who had saved his life.

My own parents treated her the same way.

To them, Sylvie was not only the daughter of the couple who had died saving them. She was also the girl who had risked herself to save my mate from the northern fire.

Her parents had saved my parents.

And she, had saved Lucien.

So in their eyes, I owed Sylvie twice.

I owed her my family’s gratitude.

I owed her my mate’s life.

Very well.

Then I would repay it with my kidney, with my life, with everything I had left.