Love Only in My Ashes

I drifted over to Colin. "If you liked Jasmine all along, why did you accept the fate arranged by the Moon Goddess back then? Why did you acknowledge me as your fated mate?"

Sadly, he couldn't hear me either.

He and Father always put Jasmine first. They hadn't even noticed me growing weaker from the wolfsbane poisoning.

Now that I was dead, they were even less likely to notice me.

Defeated, I floated over to Jasmine, looking at the pearl-studded wedding dress she wore.

That was a design I had spent three months on, the position of every pearl painstakingly revised.

After the fitting, Father prepared to leave. My soul, like a dog on an invisible leash, was dragged along.

Back home, Father sat on the sofa, constantly checking his phone.

After failing to reach me via mind-link, he made three more unanswered calls.

"Throwing a tantrum, won't even answer calls," he complained, frowning. "Always so unreasonable, never as sensible as Jasmine."

"I'm dead! How could I answer?" I retorted reflexively, then realized, "Oh right, you don't even know I'm dead."

A more pathetic truth struck me: given Father's level of neglect towards me, he might not realize I was gone for another two years.

Whereas if Jasmine didn't reply to a message for ten minutes, he'd turn the entire Pack upside down in panic.

The following days felt like prolonged torture. I was forced to watch Father fuss over Jasmine, watch Colin shower her with tenderness.

Fate was truly ironic. When I was alive, I could barely get them to see me; dead, I had to witness their happiness 24/7.

"Aren't you the one who hates seeing me most?" I taunted, floating right in front of Father. "Go find a sorcerer to exorcise me! Didn't you always wish I'd disappear?"

Even as I said it, I felt a flicker of fear. How painful was soul-scattering? No one had ever told me.

I turned to Colin. "Forget it, you bury me instead. Maybe then I can go to heaven. Marry whoever you want. But why lie to me saying it was forced? It's not like this is the first time she's taken what belonged to me."

I rambled on for a long time, but they couldn't hear a single word.

Their world consisted only of Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine.

As if she were the Moon Goddess incarnate.

Soon, Colin and Jasmine's Marking Ceremony arrived.

That morning, Pack social media exploded—news of 'Chris Successfully Extracts Dead Memories' flooded every feed.

The report said Chris would conduct a public demonstration at 10:30 AM.

Father and Colin saw the news but paid it no mind. They were busy with final preparations for the Marking Ceremony.

When I saw the ceremony venue, I nearly exploded with rage—not only had they used my wedding dress design, but the entire venue layout was copied straight from my blueprints.

Father and Colin knew full well I'd spent countless sleepless nights drawing those.

"Shameless!" I roared.

Father was instructing the guards: "If you see Jane, under no circumstances let her in."

"Beg me and I wouldn't come!" I was furious. "Who wants to watch your disgusting performance?!"

Colin said to Lina, who had come for the Marking Ceremony: "After the ceremony, I'll explain to Jane personally. She's so understanding, she'll surely comprehend."

"Comprehend? When pigs fly!" I swung a fist at him, but it passed harmlessly through his body.

Lina's tears suddenly spilled over. "You... you bastards!"

Seeing her cry made my heart ache. I tried to wipe her tears, but my fingers passed through her face again and again.

Then Lina raised her phone with trembling hands; the screen showed Chris's live broadcast.

My corpse lay quietly on the experimental table, wearing my favorite floral dress.

But the long illness had ravaged me beyond recognition; now I looked like a skeleton draped in skin, horrifying even to myself.