After I became a Beta, I had rejected the marriage arranged by the Moon Goddess between Jackson and me. 

But when I saw that old wooden mask hanging from his waist, I began to pay attention to Jackson. 

Once, on the battlefield, Jackson was struck by several arrows and forced to the edge of a cliff. 

In order to buy him a chance to escape, I lunged at the enemy, but they anticipated my move and struck me with a hidden weapon. 

Liquid silver flowed into my heart through my blood. Even though the healer saved me, I lost my wolf and remained in a coma for an entire year. 

Everyone knew I was injured because of Jackson, so to make it up to me, he had no choice but to marry me. 

“Do you think sacrificing yourself can make him love you completely?” asked Waylon, Alpha of the Nocterra pack, when I handed in my resignation. “All you did was cripple the strongest force in the pack.” 

I stubbornly shook my head. 

During those nights when I was whipped by Mary West, my stepmother, the boy outside the city wearing the wooden mask was the only comfort to my younger self. 

But when I learned that Laila’s gentle care for Jackson had so easily claimed his entire heart while I was unconscious, I began to regret it. 

After snapping back to reality, I received a video call request from Waylon. 

He stared at me from the other end. His deep-green eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite fathom. “You look like you’ve grown more haggard,” he said. 

“You called just to check on your former Beta’s physical condition?” 

My tone was mocking, but I knew he wouldn’t get angry—he had always been tolerant of me when I worked under him. 

He felt like an old friend who knew me well, and we always had excellent coordination on the battlefield.