Chapter 2

Seraphina's POV

Everyone in the werewolf world knew that Alpha Alexander of Dusklight Pack had a "glass rose" he'd been pampering for ten years.

That was me.

Because I'd watched my parents die brutally in battle, I'd developed severe PTSD.

It made shifting completely impossible. Just seeing another werewolf shift, or witnessing any kind of fighting, would trigger violent physical and psychological reactions—mild cases meant nausea and dizziness, severe ones meant suffocation and fainting.

For my sake, Alexander had built a special mansion that blocked out almost all outside sounds, sights, and smells.

No werewolf was allowed near the property. Even our maids and housekeepers were human.

If anyone in the Pack dared discuss my condition, he punished them harshly.

If gossip from another Pack reached his ears, he'd launch a brutal attack and kill the gossipers without mercy.

Everyone assumed Alexander would protect me like this for the rest of my life.

Until that therapist Chloe showed up.

She was human, but bright and bold, like a wild rose blooming under blazing sun.

Even an iceberg like Alexander melted for her.

Because Chloe said one sentence—"She's just spoiled and too weak. She needs strong stimulation"—I was forced into so-called "exposure and shock therapy."

The first time, she tricked me into a chaotic Rogue camp, calling it "adapting to the real living environment of werewolves." I lasted less than half an hour before having a complete breakdown, throwing up until I passed out.

The second time, Chloe took me to a dungeon and forced me to watch two werewolf slaves fight to the death up close. The bloody scene dragged up my worst memories. I went into shock right there.

The third time… this last time, Chloe hung my parents' urns outside a 28th-floor window and forced me to climb an unsecured rope ladder to get them.

She framed it as: maybe under extreme conditions, I could finally overcome my fear and shift.

I finally snapped.

I slapped Chloe hard across the face and stormed straight to Alexander, demanding he fire that crazy woman.

"Alexander, where the hell did you find this lunatic?"

I pointed at him, my voice shaking. "I have a psychological trauma. I'm not just being weak! Why would you bring in some human who barely understands werewolves to torture me? She used my parents' ashes to threaten me. Is that something a doctor should ever do?"

Alexander completely ignored my anger. His eyes went straight past me to Chloe.

Five clear finger marks were swelling up on her pale cheek.

She bit her red lip and stared at Alexander stubbornly, eyes full of hurt but somehow still strong.

"I know this kind of shock therapy is painful," she said, voice catching slightly. "But I'm experienced. This will help Seraphina overcome her psychological barriers. As long as she cooperates, I'm sure she'll soon be able to face the real werewolf world. She might even shift."

I watched the ice in Alexander's eyes melt away, replaced by tenderness and concern. "I'm sorry, Chloe. Seraphina wasn't always like this. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

Chloe gave him a small, understanding smile. "It's fine. As a doctor, getting misunderstood by patients comes with the territory. But I'll never give up on any patient of mine."

The admiration in Alexander's eyes only deepened.

Then he turned to me, his expression instantly turning cold and disappointed. "Seraphina, what's happened to you? Chloe is doing all this for your own good. How could you raise your hand against her? Where's the dignity an Alpha's daughter should have?"

My eyes were red. I screamed back hysterically, "She used Mom and Dad's ashes to threaten me! Don't I have the right to slap her? Alexander, can you really stand there and let someone desecrate our parents' ashes? Should they not get any peace even after death?"

"Enough!" Alexander's voice cut me off sharply.

"Seraphina, your parents protected you too much when they were alive. That's why you turned out so fragile! And whose fault is it they can't rest in peace? If you'd just gotten over this barrier earlier and learned to face the world, would they still be worrying about you?"

His words hit me like a thunderclap. Tears rolled down my cheeks, one after another.

"So… you're blaming me?" My voice trembled. "You won't blame Chloe for abusing me, but you'll blame me?"

For a split second, something flickered in Alexander's eyes—maybe guilt. But it vanished, replaced by hard resolve. "Seraphina, just listen. Chloe is helping you. Cooperate with her and overcome this. Then you can become my Luna and rule the Pack with me."

Chloe chimed in from the sidelines, looking like a victor. "Yes, Seraphina. My methods may be a bit intense, but they work. After the first two sessions, your tolerance to a 'werewolf environment' has improved slightly. That's huge progress. If we just keep going, you'll succeed."

Alexander's hardness, his absolute refusal to listen, made my chest hurt so badly I couldn't breathe.

Before, Alexander never forced me to do anything I didn't want to do. When had he ever yelled at me like this?

I wiped my tears and stopped fighting. No matter what, I couldn't let anything happen to my parents' ashes.

I obediently climbed the ladder.

Chloe stood below, smiling encouragingly. "You can do it, Seraphina."

Her grace only made me look more "irrational" and "unreasonable."

But I was the one being hurt. I'd always been the one being hurt.

The wind was strong up there. It chilled me to the bone. Chloe wouldn't allow me any protective gear or comfort items.

Said it would ruin the "extreme stimulation."

So I climbed in nothing but thin clothing.

I forced myself past my fear of heights, climbing one rung at a time.

The higher I went, the stronger the wind got, and the closer I came to those dangling urns.

Then Chloe's voice came from below: "Hurry, Seraphina. To control the time and reduce your anxiety, I've set a countdown. One minute until the mechanical claw releases automatically."

My heart slammed in my chest.

How dare Chloe?

Forgetting my fear, I scrambled up the ladder as fast as I could.

But I couldn't even shift. I'd spent my entire life inside a safe mansion. How could I have a normal werewolf's reflexes or strength?

One minute wasn't nearly enough to cover the remaining distance.

Just as my fingertips finally brushed the urns with everything I had—

The mechanical claw released.

I reached out, desperately trying to grab them, and watched helplessly as my parents' urns slipped through my fingers.

They fell from twenty-eight floors up and smashed onto the concrete below, shattering into pieces.

"NO—!"

I screamed until my throat tore. In total despair, I leapt off the ladder.

Thankfully, I still had a safety harness on.

When I touched down, ghostly pale and trembling, Alexander didn't check on me first. He charged up and slapped me across the face.

"Seraphina! Have I been too soft on you?"

He roared, "You've got such a temper now you'd throw your own life away to spite us? How can you face your dead parents like this? Chloe already told you—those were just prop urns. They were filled with flour. You really think she'd be insane enough to actually use your parents' ashes?"

I froze, my cheek burning.

Chloe rushed over, throwing herself between us, all virtue and sainthood. "Alexander, don't blame Seraphina. This is my fault. Maybe this aggressive therapy is too soon for someone in her current state."

Before she could finish, I shoved her hard from behind.

"I don't want your fake kindness!"

Chloe fell forward, hitting her forehead on the steps. A trickle of blood appeared.

"Seraphina, that's enough!"

Alexander scooped Chloe up in his arms, shooting me an icy glare. Then, without sparing me another glance, he turned and walked away.

I knelt on the ground, tears falling onto cold concrete, one after another.

In that moment, a thought floated through my mind: Alexander doesn't belong to me anymore.

I cried as I tried to gather the shattered pieces, scooping up the gray-white powder.

Did anyone really think a daughter wouldn't recognize her own parents' urns?

I had even carved special marks on them to tell which was which.

Flour, my ass. It was all lies.

Before I could finish, a gust of wind swept the ashes into the air, and they were gone forever.

The image of my parents' deaths replayed in my head—the blood, the screaming, all of it pressing in around me.

I dry-heaved twice. Then everything went black, and I passed out.

When I woke up, I was lying in the Pack's hospital.

Special aromatherapy filled the room with mild herbal scents, calming my nerves.

There were no other werewolf scents in the room, which made things much easier.

I struggled to sit up to get some water and faintly heard Alexander on the balcony outside, talking on the phone.

"I know Chloe's methods are extreme, but if we don't do this, Seraphina will never live like a real werewolf."

His voice sounded exhausted. "Always being so careful with her, protecting her. Ten years of this. I'm exhausted."

"I know what my adoptive parents wanted, but Seraphina can't even shift."

"I can't be tied down for life by a defective mate who can never shift, who has to stay locked behind glass. As an Alpha, I need a strong mate who can stand beside me. The Pack needs a strong Luna. Is that wrong?"

A huge hole tore open in my chest, and a freezing wind blew straight through it.

Alexander was the adopted son of my parents—the late Alpha and Luna of Dusklight Pack.

He was technically my brother, but everyone in our circles knew exactly what my parents had in mind when they took him in.

He'd been chosen to be my mate and protector.

They figured a werewolf raised from childhood would be more loyal than a fated mate.

I'd always known this.

I'd given my heart to that strong, gentle man a long time ago.

I'd thought we'd naturally end up spending our lives together.

Now I knew Alexander didn't see it that way at all.

To him, I was just a burden he couldn't shake off—a stain on his perfect record.

I laughed bitterly, tears sliding silently down my face.

If he'd never planned to spend his life with me, he didn't have to come up with such noble excuses. He didn't have to bring in a maniac to torture me.

I didn't blame him for wanting a strong, normal life. I just hated the way he was crushing my dignity, denying that I had any worth at all.

I pulled out my phone and opened the encrypted email that had been sitting in my drafts for so long.

I thought for a moment, then hit reply: "Alpha William, your offer for me to join Frostmark Pack? I accept."