Chapter 1

The year after I married Patrick Thalassar, his childhood beloved succumbed to illness.

Patrick’s eyes were swollen and red from weeping as he traveled overseas to handle her funeral.

Everyone mocked me behind my back, saying that once he returned, he’d surely divorce me.

After all, if I hadn’t been in the way, he would’ve ended up with her long ago.

Yet when he came back, he didn’t utter a word about divorce, instead, he treated me even more gently.

Many whispered that this roguish heir to the North Sea Pack Alpha had finally turned over a new leaf.

But the second my gaze fell on the Tide Amulet around his neck, I made up my mind to end our marriage.

“Ayla Lyra, what in the world are you playing at?” Patrick roared.

“Is this your idea of a tantrum just because I went to Cynthia’s funeral?”

“She’s dead! Can’t you let her go? What’s the point of fighting over a dead woman?”

“I’m not being irrational,” I said, my voice cold as ice.

“I truly want a divorce.”

“Ayla, this is my fault,” Patrick’s tone softened. “Cynthia died abroad without family left, I had no choice but to take care of her funeral. Please, stop making this hard, okay?”

“I promise, from now on, I’ll listen to every word you say. As long as we’re still married, whatever you want goes. We’ll live like a real couple, I swear.”

“Patrick,” I pushed him away, “the one you love isn’t me. It’s Cynthia.”

“Ayla, no matter what you say, I won’t divorce you.”

He fixed me with a frigid stare. “You’re just throwing a fit. It’s fine, I’ll forgive you.”

Patrick had no clue I could see souls.

I’d had this gift since I was a child.

Blessed with the Starcrest Pack’s rare Soulsight, I was one of the few who could peer between the living and the dead.

Just then, moonlight spilled over us, and the air before me flickered.

The soul of Patrick’s deceased beloved wreathed herself in a wolf-like aura, her golden eyes locking onto mine.

She stood behind him, smiling at me, and that smile was so icy, it sent a cold shiver snaking down my spine.

I knew then, if I kept tangled up with Patrick, next time, I might not walk away alive.

I stared at the Tide Amulet, my gaze unwavering.

Then, I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I was too impulsive.”

At the sight of my surrender, a grin instantly spread across Patrick’s face.

He cooed softly in reassurance, “Don’t worry, Ayla. I won’t blame you. I know you’re upset because I went to Cynthia’s funeral.”