Ivy's POV

Bang—

The rock slammed into my back. I collapsed face-first into the mud.

"Get out! You cursed freak!"

"Murderer! You killed Luna Eleanor!"

"Beat her to death! Avenge our Luna!"

I curled on the ground. Arms shielded my head. Folding in on myself. Fists, stones, boots—they rained down from every direction. Something cracked in my ribs. Blood and dirt filled my mouth.

"I didn't!" I tried to shout. My voice swallowed by the mob. "I didn't do anything!"

No one listened.

A boot slammed into my stomach.

Pain exploded through my abdomen. Forced me to curl tighter. The only way to dull the agony.

"Luna Eleanor was perfectly fine yesterday!" someone roared. "Now she's dead—and she died right next to you! First Alpha Marcus, now his mother! You cursed witch!"

I shut my eyes. Stopped trying to speak. There was no point. There never was.

Three years.

For three long years, this had been my life.

The curse had followed me since the day I was born. All because I was an omega—the lowest of our kind. Even my own parents hadn't wanted me.

Three years ago, when I turned seventeen, my father brought me to this unfamiliar pack. Offered me up like a sacrificial lamb.

I would never forget that night.

I knelt on a freezing stone altar. Wrists sliced open. Silver contract markings crawled across my skin under the moonlight. Binding me to a man I had never met.

It wasn't a mating bond ceremony.

It was a life-binding ritual.

"Moon Goddess! Tonight we offer the life force of Ivy Ashwood in exchange for the rebirth of Alpha Marcus!"

That was what they prayed for.

But it didn't work.

Three days later, Marcus's heart stopped.

The doctors delivered a clinical explanation—complications from AIDS leading to severe lung infection. Clean. Professional. Final.

But his mother, Eleanor, never accepted it.

To her, the truth was simple: my life hadn't been enough to save her son.

Slap!

"Murderer of your own mate!"

Her scream still echoed in my ears.

From that day on, the gates of hell opened.

She chained my ankles with silver that burned my flesh day and night. Whips. Blades. Branding irons. I endured them all. My back became a map of scars layered over scars. Deep gashes on my arms cut to the bone. Silver poison seeped into my bloodstream. Preventing any wound from ever healing.

My wolf fell silent.

Three years of torture crushed every instinct I had. I couldn't shift. Couldn't heal. Couldn't even feel the Moon Goddess anymore.

I was nothing but a breathing shell.

And yesterday—

The third anniversary of Marcus's death—

As always, Eleanor dragged me into the town square. Lashed me with a silver whip in front of the entire pack.

But this time... she was the one who fell.

No warning.

Her head struck the ground. Her body convulsed. Foam spilled from her mouth. Her eyes rolled back.

Even with immediate medical attention, there was nothing anyone could do.

Cerebral hemorrhage. Heart attack. Complications from chronic hypertension.

The diagnosis was clear—natural causes. No external force involved.

But just like three years ago, no one cared about medical facts.

They only believed what they wanted to believe.

"She's cursed! She destroyed our Alpha's bloodline!"

"She's a walking disaster!"

"She'll wipe out the whole pack!"

Everyone was there in the square.

Men. Women. Elders. Children.

Hatred burned in every pair of eyes.

I couldn't even tell anymore whether it was stones or fists hitting me. My vision blurred as I lay in the mud. Consciousness slipping away.

I'm going to die.

I'm finally... going to be free.

Or maybe Marcus and Eleanor are waiting for me in hell. Ready to keep torturing me.

Maybe—

"Everyone!"

Just as darkness began to close in, a familiar voice cut through the chaos and pierced my ears.

I couldn't lift my head.

I didn't need to.

My father had arrived.

Three years.

He had finally come.

"Please hand Ivy over to me," my father said. His voice cold and commanding. "I'll take her back with me."

The acting Alpha—Brian, Marcus's uncle—scoffed. "Ronan? You show up after three years? Your daughter killed our Alpha and his mother. She has to pay!"

"Of course," my father replied immediately. His tone carrying the pressure of a high-ranking Alpha. "My apologies. This is my failure. My daughter was born under a bad omen. Nineteen years ago, when she was born... I should have drowned her."

A laugh escaped my cracked lips.

I actually laughed.

What had I been hoping for?

How stupid was I to believe that the family who sold me away might suddenly grow a conscience and come to save me?

Forcing my swollen eyes open, I finally looked up.

My mother stood off to the side. Head lowered. Refusing to meet my gaze.

My brother Caleb leaned against a car nearby. Staring at me with cold indifference—like I was nothing more than garbage.

My father met my eyes. His expression empty as he continued, "Precisely because this is my mistake, I must take her away. After all... who knows? If we kill her, it might bring an even worse curse upon us."

A brilliant excuse.

Within seconds, everyone accepted it.

No one wanted anything more to do with me. Not a single person asked what I thought. No one cared whether I wanted to keep living.

"She has to leave!" a woman shrieked. "Or we'll all die!"

"Yeah! Drive her out!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

Brian finally stepped aside. "Fine. Take her. But leave—and never come back."

My father didn't move for a moment. Then he answered quietly, "Naturally. Caleb."

Caleb walked over immediately. Grabbed me like a sack of trash and tossed me into the back seat.

Bang—

The car door slammed shut. Cutting off the world outside.

During the drive, my mother stared out the window the entire time. Never once looking at me.

Caleb drove. His eyes cold in the rearview mirror.

My father sat beside me and lit a cigar. Smoke filled the cramped car.

No one spoke for a long time.

Curled against the door, covered in blood, my consciousness slowly returned.

They didn't come to save me.

They definitely didn't.