He Waited Seven Years for a Corpse

Seven years ago, my father, the Wolf King, listened to the slander of his new lover and personally brought a bowl of abortion poison to my mother.

My mother fought desperately to turn her head away in resistance, but he forced it down her throat anyway.

In her absolute despair, she let out a harrowing scream, vowing she would never see him again in this lifetime!

Since then, the soul bond between my parents was completely severed.

My father, however, brushed it off, dead certain that my mother was "blocking the bond" to throw a temper tantrum.

Until today, when the vampire army massed at our borders, specifically demanding a royal blood slave.

To protect his new lover's daughter, my father seized me to take her place.

He set fire to my mother's beloved sea of moonflowers, pointing at the soaring flames and roaring: "If you come out and beg me, I'll spare Aria's life!"

But even as the inferno reduced half the courtyard to ashes, the space behind that tightly shut door remained in a state of dead silence.

He didn't know—

The severed bond wasn't a tantrum.

Because of that bowl of poison seven years ago, my mother had drawn her last breath that very night.

...

"Let Aria go." My father, Kaelen, sat on his throne, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Since they need a blood slave tribute to quell the border conflict, this cursed child will finally be of some use."

Cursed child. Yes, seven years ago, a rare plague broke out among the wolf pack.

Selene, who was still my mother's best friend at the time, bribed the pack shaman.

She led the charge with absolute certainty, framing me as a harbinger of doom.

My father believed her without a shred of doubt and ordered my immediate execution on the spot.

Had my pregnant mother not shielded me with her own body, threatening to take her own life to save mine, I would have been a corpse long ago.

Seeing she couldn't kill me, Selene manipulated my father under the guise of "purging the curse," convincing him to personally force a bowl of abortion poison down my pregnant mother's throat.

It was on that very night that the unborn child in her womb melted into a pool of blood, and she herself passed away.

Standing beside Kaelen, Selene let out a delicate gasp.

"Kaelen, how could we? Elara is the one of marriageable age; this tribute spot was originally meant for her. Aria is Lyra's child, after all. If Lyra finds out, I'm afraid she will resent me once again."

Kaelen slammed his hand heavily against the armrest.

"Seven years! She thinks she can threaten me by blocking our soul bond? She gave birth to Aria, that cursed child who brought us doom and cost the pack a third of its pups that winter. Sparing their lives was already an act of immense mercy!"

"Listen well, Aria." Kaelen walked down the steps and stopped in front of me.

"The carriage departs first thing tomorrow morning. You had better pray that your mother, who's been playing dead all this time, crawls out to see you one last time. Otherwise, you will take Elara's place as a sacrifice to those vampires."

"Yes, Alpha," I replied, my voice so steady it didn't hold even a hint of a tremor.

My submissiveness seemed to completely infuriate Kaelen.

He was used to seeing fear and begging in others; my calmness, in his eyes, became absolute proof that Lyra was instigating defiance behind the scenes.

"Good. Very good." Kaelen laughed out of sheer anger.

He snapped his head toward the captain of the guard outside the hall. "Go! Burn down that patch of moonflowers outside the Cold Courtyard! Don't leave a single one alive!"

Moonflowers. They were once my mother's most treasured possession.

Back when Kaelen was courting her, he personally crossed the Mountains of Extreme Cold to bring back these rare plants that bloomed only in the moonlight.

They were the proof that they had once loved each other.

"Kaelen..." Selene covered her mouth in mock dismay, though her eyes flashed with undisguised ecstasy.

"Burn it!" Kaelen gritted his teeth, staring fixedly at my face, trying to find a trace of panic in it. "I want to see if she can keep playing dead when the fire reaches her doorstep!"

I remained kneeling, completely motionless.

The guards took their orders and left. Before long, towering flames reflected in the windows.

The thick, acrid smoke made one's throat tight.

Kaelen stood by the window, arms crossed, staring in the direction of the Cold Courtyard. His muscles were tense, his breathing heavy, like a wild beast waiting for its prey to walk right into a trap.

I knew what he was waiting for.

Waiting for that door, shut tight for seven years, to be pushed open. Waiting for my mother to rush out, tears streaming down her face, and throw herself into the sea of fire to save those flowers. Waiting for her to kneel at his feet, crying bitterly, admitting her mistakes, and begging him to spare her daughter.

The fire grew fiercer.

The moonflowers twisted and charred under the intense heat, eventually turning to ashes. Yet, the Cold Courtyard was dead silent.

Kaelen's expression shifted from anticipation to a livid pallor, finally twisting into a deranged fury. He slammed his fist violently into the window frame.

"Fine! Good for you, Lyra!" Kaelen threw his head back and let out a suppressed roar. "Since you are so heartless as to disregard your own daughter's life and death, then you can take your ridiculous pride and rot in that courtyard!"

He spun around, strode over to me, and grabbed my collar, hauling me up like a ragged sack.

"Get back and prepare! As soon as the sun rises tomorrow, get in that carriage!" He threw me to the ground like a piece of trash.

I fell heavily, scraping my elbow, blood seeping out. But I simply climbed to my feet in silence, dusted off my skirt, and gave him a standard Lycan bow.

"As you command, Father."

When I turned and walked out of the great hall, the night wind hit my face, carrying a strong, burnt odor.

Father burned the flowers, thinking this would force Mother to yield.

But he didn't know that as early as that winter night seven years ago, right inside that bowl of abortion poison he had personally ordered her to drink, my mother had bled dry and breathed her last.

You burned the flowers, trying to force her out. But how could a dead person ever beg for mercy?

I walked back to my room and dragged a box out from under my bed.

The real show was just beginning.