I glanced at the exquisite Guardian's Fang on Seraphina's chest—a Blackwood family heirloom imbued with powerful protective magic.
My gaze returned to Ethan's rigid expression before I spoke.
"It means exactly what I said. You give her a family heirloom, and me? A common insignia? Do you think I'm only worthy of cheap trinkets?"
Caught off guard, Ethan fell silent for a moment, clearly not expecting me to be so direct.
But Seraphina interjected before he could react, her voice laced with a deliberately sweet tone.
"Elara, please don't be angry. Ethan only gave me the Guardian's Fang because I loved it so much. But if you mind, I can give it back to him. Please, don't let this affect the two of you—it's not worth it."
Her words were full of innocence, but her hands never moved toward the heirloom.
Instead, she looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks like perfect jewels.
And Ethan, of course, caved. He pulled her into his arms as if she were the one who needed comforting, all while glaring at me.
"Don't listen to her, Sera. That Guardian's Fang is yours."
"Once a token is given, it belongs to its destined owner. She's just always been so jealous, throwing a fit over every little thing."
I didn't bother to respond. My attention had already returned to the glowing screen in front of me.
But my silence only seemed to infuriate him more. He tightened his arm around Seraphina and stormed out of the house, his face a mask of fury.
He stormed out, then paused just beyond the door, waiting for me to break, to chase after him and apologize as I always had.
But this time was different.
I didn't even look up. Instead, I quietly added the value of the Guardian's Fang—converted into its equivalent in pack resources—to the list of assets to be divided.
With a final, angry growl, he slammed the door shut.
Shortly after they left, my parents summoned me through the mind-link, asking me to visit.
I agreed. As I arrived at the entrance to their territory, I ran into Ethan.
He looked at me, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before being masked by a veneer of forced composure.
"Shall we go in together?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
I nodded and walked past him without a word.
Dinner was suffocatingly awkward. My parents hadn't forgiven him for the spectacle at the ceremony. Their coldness was palpable in every curt exchange, every pointed glance.
In the past, I might have intervened. Not anymore. This time, I let him sit in the silence, letting the tension fester.
When dinner finally ended, I was about to call for my ride when Ethan's car pulled up. I opened the door to get in, only to be hit by the strong scent of another she-wolf's mark on the passenger seat—Seraphina's.
He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and tried to explain.
"Sera insisted on marking it. You rarely sit there anyway."
I nodded, my voice flat. "Right. She's still young. Pups are like that."
He frowned, looking like he wanted to say more, but a message came through my mind-link before he could speak.
I ignored him, focusing on the message. By the time I was done, we had arrived at the villa.
I stepped out of the car, and before I could even catch my breath, Seraphina rushed over, practically throwing herself into his arms.
"Ethan, I missed you so much," she cooed.
Perhaps because I was standing right there, Ethan was once again uncomfortable. He quickly pushed her away before she could kiss his cheek.
"Alright, Sera, stop acting like a child. You're too old for this."
She shot me a triumphant smile, her voice laced with a playful sweetness. "So what? We're still close!"
I ignored their little exchange and walked straight toward the house.
But just as I reached the door, something caught my eye—a series of photos flashing across the magic crystal screen on the wall.
They were all of Seraphina and Ethan. Some showed them cuddling while watching the sunrise, others dining together. And the last one?
The two of them were locked in a passionate kiss, marking each other.
I had barely glanced at the photos when Ethan rushed to my side, his voice urgent and desperate.
"Elara, those are fake. You have to believe me. Please don't be angry, it's not good for the heir."
I turned to face him, catching the flash of guilt in his eyes.
I nodded. "They're well-shot, though."
His brow furrowed even deeper, his face a mask of confusion.
"Elara, aren't you angry?"
My expression remained steady, calm. "No, not at all."
Before he could press further, I watched as he tore into a servant who had accidentally spilled moonlight wine on Seraphina.
Seeing this, I was reminded of an incident from years ago. We were at a ceremony then, too.
I was standing near the altar when Seraphina, seemingly by accident, shoved me.
I lost my balance, crashed into the altar, and sent the ceremonial items scattering as I fell. Moonlight wine and blood mixed, dripping from my body.
I had looked to Ethan for help, but he had instead berated me in front of everyone, his words like daggers.
"Can't you watch where you're going? Didn't you see the altar right in front of you? Do you have any idea how important this ritual was? What's the point of a waste like you even being alive?"
His final words were the most venomous.
"If I were you, I'd just ram my head into the Sacred Tree and die."
My thoughts snapped back to the present, watching him, the same man, now protecting Seraphina over a trivial accident.
How ridiculous.
Without another word, I turned and walked away.
