Chapter 8

Maryjane turned to leave after speaking.

But Lyla stopped her. “Sister, I want to try on the ceremonial gown for tomorrow. Can you help me put it on?”

Maryjane paused, hesitating, but she didn’t refuse.

The room held only the two of them. Lyla’s pristine white dress was embroidered with a lifelike silver wolf, crafted from moonlight-thread—a symbol of her Frost Heart lineage, prestigious and revered.

As Maryjane adjusted the folds of Lyla’s gown, Lyla suddenly clasped her hand. “I truly thank you. From childhood to now, you’ve given me so much.”

Her tone softened, her lips curving into a sweet smile. “And now, even your life. I promise, once you’re gone, I’ll cherish Damien well.”

The words came out like a poisoned blade, wrapped in honey.

Maryjane smiled faintly. “Aren’t you afraid these words might reach Damien? Or our parents?”

Lyla chuckled lightly. “Afraid? Maryjane, who would believe you?”

“Maryjane, no one loves you. No one trusts you. You’re nothing but the world’s most redundant existence.”

Redundant?

Maryjane’s lips twitched slightly, but she said nothing. After finishing dressing Lyla, she turned and opened the door.

Waiting outside were Damien and Leo. As soon as Damien saw Lyla, he exclaimed, “Lyla, you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Lyla’s radiant smile deepened as she coyly clung to Damien’s arm. “Oh, don’t say that. My sister is still here.”

Damien froze awkwardly. “Maryjane, I didn’t mean it that way…”

“It’s fine,” Maryjane said calmly. “You both should spend more time together. I’m a little tired and will head back now.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and left.

Damien watched her retreating figure, a sudden urge to follow her welling up inside him.

But Lyla’s grip on his arm was firm, holding him in place.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Damien had a sinking feeling that Maryjane wouldn’t be coming back.

No, that was impossible. This was her home. Where else could she go?

Suppressing his unease, Damien forced a smile at Lyla.

Meanwhile, Maryjane exited Lyla’s Moonstone Cottage. The pack was alive with the festive air of celebration.

Elegant silver ribbons and white moonlight flowers adorned every corner, a testament to the grandeur of the upcoming ceremonial union.

Her gaze fell upon the invitation being distributed among the pack members.

Nearly every notable supernatural pack had been invited.

It was clear this wasn’t merely the simple ceremony Damien had claimed it to be, something to fulfill Lyla’s wish.

This was Damien’s declaration to the entire supernatural world—that he and Lyla were to become mates.

A sharp pain pierced Maryjane’s heart, but it faded almost instantly.

One thought took root in her mind—it was time to leave.

Back at Sunset Haven, Maryjane stood in the stone cottage where she had lived for nearly a century. Yet most of her memories here had faded.

She only remembered that she had once lived in Moonstone Cottage, as the firstborn child of the Alpha and Luna. But that home had been given to Lyla.

From then on, she had been giving—until, in the end, even her mate and her son had been taken by Lyla.

With a wave of her hand, Maryjane summoned all her belongings. They floated in midair, suspended for a moment.

Another wave, and a burst of soul flames consumed them entirely, leaving no trace—not even ash.

From that moment, nothing of Maryjane remained in the cottage.

Without a backward glance, she turned and left resolutely.

Beyond the pack’s territory, she arrived at Whisper Hills.

That night, Maryjane let the moon mark on her forehead burn again and again.

Dawn broke, ushering in the day of Damien and Lyla’s bonding ceremony.

Maryjane extended her hand toward Flames. “Let’s go, Flames.”

The wolf leapt to her side. Together, the woman and her wolf journeyed northward, finally reaching the border between the supernatural realm and the Abyss at dawn—

Howling Summit.

From afar, she could see the imposing statue of the Moon Goddess, emanating a soft glow.

Placing her silver spear on the ground, Maryjane knelt on one knee. “Great Goddess.”

The Moon Goddess’s majestic voice echoed in her mind. “Maryjane, the time has come. Are you ready to forget everything, sever all emotions, and dedicate yourself to sealing the evil spirits of Howling Summit, safeguarding the balance of the world?”

Maryjane raised her head. Though her eyes were void of emotion, she made a plea. “Great Goddess, before I do, I have one request. The spirit wolf, Flames, has chosen to join me in guarding Howling Summit. Could you allow me to retain memories of it?”

The Moon Goddess’s voice softened. “Is there anyone or anything else you wish to remember?”

Maryjane’s gaze was unwavering. “No.”

“Very well, I shall grant you this.”

As the words fell, the statue of the Moon Goddess radiated a blinding light. Maryjane slowly ascended, suspended in midair.

The moon mark on her forehead flared with intense silver light.

The Moon Goddess extended a hand formed of pure light, drawing a nearly transparent, rainbow-hued ribbon from within Maryjane’s being.

“I have extracted your ‘core of emotions.’ From now on, you will feel no love, hate, or desire.”

Maryjane felt it distinctly—the memories of her parents, of Damien, of Leo—receding rapidly in her mind.

“Maryjane is our firstborn. We must give her the best the world has to offer.”

“Maryjane, my soul howls for you. I want to forge an eternal bond with you.”

“Mother, Leo loves you most of all!”

…

In the blink of an eye, these memories dissolved completely, leaving only a blank void.

When she opened her eyes again, Maryjane stood atop Howling Summit.

She was clad in silver armor, holding a long spear, her gaze devoid of emotion.