Howling at Her Silent Grave

My stepbrother, my fated mate, Damien—he hates me.

He hates that my mother and I ever appeared, causing his own mother’s exile from the pack.

Whenever he sees me, his powerful Alpha aura turns bone-chilling as he cruelly demands to know when I’ll finally get out of his territory.

Eventually, I gave him what he wanted.

I was gone. Silenced for good.

But then, he regretted it.

He cried, howling at my grave, begging me to come back. He swore he shouldn’t have denied our bond, shouldn’t have been so cruel.

But I was already dead.

So who is this show for?

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1

Six years had passed since Damien Blackwood severed our bond—and since we became step-siblings. By then, the Moon’s Wail curse had already taken root in my bones, and my days were numbered.

I stormed into the Alpha’s mansion in a panic, barging straight into his study.

I confronted him, demanding to know if he was truly holding a bonding ceremony with Isolde of the Thorne clan.

He sneered, calling me delusional, claiming I couldn't bear to see him solidify his power.

I froze, words failing me.

Looking into his cold eyes, I slowly realized that Damien must have always hated me.

I forced myself to speak. “But Isolde isn’t right for you.”

I had my selfish reasons, but I also knew a political alliance like that would never bring him happiness.

His mate-to-be shouldn’t be some ambitious woman driven only by personal gain.

“And you are? A descendant of a fading bloodline?”

“You think you’re my perfect mate?”

He glanced at me, his eyes filled with an Alpha's disdain, as if he could see the desperate obsession coiling inside my inner wolf.

Damien rose, the light casting one side of his face in shadow. His dark hair fell across his brow, shadowing the cruelty in his eyes.

“Elara, nothing about the Blackwood pack has anything to do with you. You’re an outsider.”

“But I never…”

I tried to explain that I didn’t care about the power of the Blackwood pack.

But Damien wasn’t listening. He turned, dismissing my words with a wave of his hand.

“Damien…”

Dressed in a sharp suit, Damien spun around, his obsidian wolf eyes fixing on me.

“What did you just call me?”

The first time I saw Damien at my mother’s new mate’s home, I understood why the Moon Goddess had fated us together.

I thought we could at least coexist peacefully, but I never imagined he had hated me all along.

He silently permitted the pack to ostracize me, watching coldly as rumors spread about my fading bloodline.

And I stubbornly refused to call him by his title in public, as if doing so would shatter the last glimmer of hope between us.

“Damien, let’s not fight, okay?”

I pleaded, the sharp pain in my chest stealing my breath.

“Don't you dare say my name! Elara, have you no shame?”

His harsh words made my head spin.

I swayed as a metallic tang rose in my throat. A mouthful of black, silver-flecked blood spilled from my lips, and I crumpled to the ground.

“Elara, what act are you pulling this time? If you’re going to die, do it out of my sight!”

He ignored me, stalking out of the study without a backward glance.

I struggled to my feet. Staring at the eerie pool of blood on the floor, my vision blurred at the edges.

But…

Damien, I’m cursed.

I’m dying.

Can’t you show me just a little concern?

Can’t you just hold me, for a moment?

I knelt on the floor, desperately trying to use magic to wipe away the bloodstain.

But as soon as I cleaned it, more black blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

It felt like it would never stop, as if no amount of wiping could hide this mark of death.

My composure shattered.

Sitting on the floor, I curled into a ball and wept silently.

I didn’t understand why fate had been so cruel.

Just when I thought I had found my fated mate, I discovered he was about to become my stepbrother.

And when I tried to sever our bond, the Moon’s Wail curse took hold.

In a daze, I stumbled toward the door, only to find my mother waiting there, her face etched with worry.