CHAPTER THREE

It was unclear how much time had passed when a low and cold voice echoed above her.

“Do you realize your mistake?”

Freya struggled to open her eyes, seeing Robert standing before her, looking down with an imposing gaze. His wolf eyes glinted with a harsh light in the dimness of the cold storage, reminiscent of a merciless judge.

Her whole body felt icy, her throat swollen and sore, making breathing difficult. Even her wolf was so cold that its tail couldn't twitch.

But she merely nodded slightly, "...I realize my mistake."

Robert frowned slightly, appearing surprised by her compliance. His wolf ears twitched as they picked up her weak breath, determining if she was lying.

He fed her an allergy pill, then bent down to lift her out of the cold storage, bringing her back home. His embrace was still warm, yet her wolf fur stood on end from the cold, unable to snuggle into his arms as it once did.

Inside the villa, Clara had already moved in.

Seeing them return, she hurriedly went up and clung to Robert's arm, her fingers gliding subtly over his wolf tail. “Robert, I want Freya's room—it gets good sunlight and has a nice view. Can I have it?”

Robert glanced at Freya, paused for a few seconds, then nodded, “Alright.”

He thought she’d make a scene, questioning him with teary eyes as she used to, maybe even showing her wolf claws in a dispute.

But Freya merely turned silently to pack her belongings. Her wolf tail drooped as if even her last shred of pride had been crushed.

Clara followed her, disdainfully pointing at curtains and carpets Freya had carefully chosen, "These need to go—they’re too childish, not fitting for Robert and me."

Freya said nothing, allowing Clara to direct the servants to throw out her belongings one by one. Her wolf sensed Clara’s smug laughter, but she lacked the strength to be angry.

Robert stood at the doorway, frowning at her calm demeanor. “You’ve become quite obedient.”

Freya lowered her head, her mouth tugging slightly.

It wasn’t that she’d become obedient—she’d decided it was time to leave.

This place would no longer be her home.

She watched silently as her belongings were cleared out, as if the memories of those years were being erased along with them. Finally, she took out her phone to contact the pet store, intending to give away the cat she had raised for many years.

But before she could dial, Clara’s shrill scream echoed from upstairs— “That damn cat scratched me!”

Freya’s heart seized, and she rushed upstairs to find Clara holding her cat, dangling it over the balcony. Her wolf throat emitted a low growl, “Stop!”

She tried to snatch it back, but Clara shoved her away.

“It scratched my hand!” Clara laughed, a vicious glint in her eye, “A disobedient thing like this might bite next. Better to get rid of it!”

With that, she let go—

“No—!”

Freya lunged to the balcony, but could only watch as her cat hit the ground heavily, blood staining the earth.

She trembled, tears streaming instantly. “...Silas? Silas?”

When she was sixteen, afraid of the dark and unable to sleep, Robert had bought her this ragdoll cat overnight.

“Let it keep you company.” He’d placed the kitten in her arms, his wolf tail gently curled around her shoulders, “Don’t be scared.”

The kitten had softly meowed, nuzzling her fingers.

She thought it would stay with her for a long, long time, until the end of its life.

But now, it lay cold and still in her arms, never to wake again. Her wolf let out an enraged howl.

Behind her, the click of high heels approached.

“It’s just an animal, is it really worth it?” Clara laughed down at her, “Freya, you’re as redundant as this cat. If you don’t leave soon, you’ll end up like it.”

Freya didn’t understand why—though she had openly confessed to Robert before, she had already stepped aside for him and Clara. Why did Clara keep targeting her over and over?

Her fingers trembled as she held Silas tightly, her wolf claws instinctively clenching, as if trying to hold onto the last bit of warmth.

“Oh, by the way,” Clara leaned in, her red lips brushing Freya’s ear,

“Your parents were short-lived too. They deserved to die early for birthing a jinx like you—”

“Slap!”

A resounding slap echoed through the room.

Clara staggered back, clutching her face, eyes wide in disbelief.

Freya’s hand still trembled, but her voice was cold as ice. “Mention my parents again and see what happens.” Her wolf eyes turned crimson—an omen of wolf clan rage.

“Freya!”

Robert’s voice came from behind, filled with fury.

He strode forward, grabbing her wrist with a force that nearly crushed her bones. “Are you insane?” His wolf eyes blazed with anger, as if she were the unforgivable sinner.

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