They'll Miss Me When I'm Gone

The bedroom door was suddenly pushed open. My older brother, Harlow Arden, walked in.

When he saw me, Ophelia Arden, sitting there with my diary in my hands and staring into space, he laughed with contempt.

"You're already an adult werewolf about to enter your heat, yet you still keep the ridiculous habit of writing in a diary like some pup that hasn't even lost all its baby teeth?"

In the past, I would have bared my teeth and argued with him.

Today, I didn't even look at him. I acted as if he didn't exist.

Harlow felt the maddening frustration of swinging at thin air.

He casually reached over and snatched the diary from my hands.

When he opened it, he found only one number written inside.

[100.]

It marked how many times they’d chosen my twin sister, Vivian Arden, over me across all these years.

Naturally, Harlow had no idea what it meant.

He frowned before casually tossing the diary onto the floor.

"Stop wasting time on this useless nonsense. Vivian wants to eat the moonlight berry pie you make. Go make it.

"Consider it an apology for that sarcastic comment you left on the pack forum today."

I remained expressionless.

"Oh," I said. I then got up and walked out.

Harlow was clearly surprised by my obedience.

After all, whenever the family asked me to make moonlight berry pie for Vivian in the past, I would always cry in frustration and sometimes even have a huge fight with them.

He wondered why I wasn't protesting today.

"Ophelia, did you forget to take your pills today? Or are you plotting something? Don't tell me you're planning to poison the pie."

He eyed me suspiciously from head to toe like he was trying to see through my act.

When his gaze landed on my bloodshot eyes, a trace of guilt appeared on his face.

He cleared his throat before speaking again awkwardly.

"Vivian spent a year studying in Royal City. She's a delicate Omega. Do you have any idea how hard it must have been for her out there?

"She finally managed to come back to the pack. Of course we were eager to pick her up. You need to be more understanding, Ophelia. Stop making us worry about you all the time.

"As for your marking ceremony, what's the big deal? We can always hold another one for you later."

I lowered my gaze, turned around, and poured the moonlight berries into the sink to wash them.

'Yes. It's only a marking ceremony.'

To them, nothing could possibly be more important than welcoming Vivian home, especially not the once-in-a-lifetime mate-marking ceremony I had looked forward to for so long.

To have that ceremonial robe adorned with moonstones custom-made, I had gone through countless dangerous hunting assignments.

To prepare the altar, I had spent more than two weeks staying up through the night, personally weaving every vine that symbolized everlasting devotion.

They had seen with their own eyes how much effort I had poured into this marking ceremony.

Yet just as I walked toward the altar with joy and anticipation, my parents, my biological brother, and the mate who had sworn to love me with his life all left without saying a word.

While Vivian coyly posted on the pack forum about how everyone was spoiling her rotten, I stood alone on the empty altar. I had to endure the pitying and mocking gazes of the entire pack.

Even the pack elders couldn't bear to watch me swaying on my feet and urged me to go home and rest.

What about my family?

After bringing their beloved Vivian home, the first thing they did was order me to enter the kitchen like a maid.

I sneered at myself.

Originally, I had planned to reject the job offer from the Royal Werewolf Research Institute.

My parents were getting older, Vivian was rarely in the pack, and Harlow was busy with his duties as captain of the guard. On top of that, I was about to hold the marking ceremony with my mate.

But now, I had never been more grateful for my decision to leave.

'Just two more days, and I'll be gone,' I thought to myself.

"Move."

I gave Harlow a light shove to the side with the back of my hand.

My cold attitude caught him off guard. His expression darkened, and just as he was about to lose his temper, a shrill cry suddenly came from the living room.

"Harlow! This nut shell is so hard! I hurt my hand!"

Harlow immediately forgot everything else. He ran out of the kitchen as if someone had yanked his tail.

"Oh, poor Vivian, don't move! You're the most gifted healer in the pack. How can your hands do such rough work? Leave it to me!"

Laughter and playful banter between the two soon filled the living room.

I lowered my head and looked at my own hands.

As I was severely allergic to moonlight berries, my once-slender fingers were now badly swollen, but no one had ever cared.