Chapter 1

Isabella was marrying Alpha Henry, and she insisted that I be her maid of honor.

But on the day I tried on my dress, my wolf—who had never shown herself before—suddenly sent me a warning through our telepathic bond.

"Be careful. Your stepmother and Isabella are trying to steal your destiny!"

The next second, I intercepted Linda’s wicked thoughts through our Mind Link: "The waistline of this maid of honor dress is perfect for covering up the curse marks. Once the ritual is done next week, Emma's destiny will belong to Isabella. Isabella will marry Alpha Henry in glory. As for whether Emma survives the ritual... well, that's up to her luck."

At that moment, a chill ran down my spine.

I was never their beloved younger daughter. I was just a destiny vessel they had raised for twenty-two years, waiting to be sacrificed for Isabella!

Since you chose to be ruthless, don’t blame me for tearing this hypocritical family apart!

The fitting room had a massive full-length mirror, lit by bright, harsh lights.

I stood on the pedestal, wearing a pure white maid of honor gown.

My stepmother, Linda, knelt at my feet. With pins held between her lips, her hands deftly tightened the fabric around my waist.

She looked up, her eyes filled with warmth and motherly affection.

"Our Emma is so beautiful. On your sister's wedding day, you'll definitely be the most stunning maid of honor."

She reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, her fingertips warm against my skin.

Looking at the reflection in the mirror—a face that shared some resemblance with hers—I was about to offer a happy smile.

But then, a cold, sharp voice echoed abruptly in my mind through our Mind Link.

*This waistline is perfect. Once the ritual is done next week and the cursed seal is covered with lace, no one will notice a thing under this dress.*

*As long as she doesn't survive the ritual, Isabella can take her destiny. Then, her bond with Alpha Henry will be completely secure.*

*Trading one worthless life for our family's lifelong wealth is an honor for this brat.*

My smile instantly froze on my face.

I felt the blood drain from my body. My hands and feet went completely numb.

I stared blankly at Linda.

Her lips hadn't moved at all. She was still wearing that same sweet, maternal smile.

But that voice was unmistakably hers, filled with a chilling, calculated malice.

"Mom..." I heard my own voice trembling.

Linda immediately stood up, grabbing my hands with deep concern. "What's wrong? Is the dress too tight? Why are you so pale?"

*Did this brat notice something? No, I need to keep a close eye on her these next few days. Nothing can go wrong at the final moment.*

I bit the tip of my tongue hard until I tasted copper, using the pain to suppress my terror.

"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night," I forced a weak smile.

Linda let out a sigh of relief and patted the back of my hand.

"That's good. The big day is just around the corner, so you must take care of yourself. Isabella is counting on you to walk her down the aisle."

I lowered my eyes to hide the cold anger in them.

Walk her down the aisle?

More like delivering my destiny—and my life—on a silver platter.

This would be the last day I played the role of their obedient daughter.

On the drive home, my father, David, was behind the wheel.

Usually a man of few words, he uncharacteristically glanced at me several times through the rearview mirror today.

"Emma, I'm taking you to see a witch tomorrow. You're twenty-two and still haven't shifted. Maybe she can find out why."

His tone was flat, as if he were talking about a trivial errand.

I leaned against the car window, watching the city lights blur past, and said nothing.

Linda immediately chimed in. "Yes, if you had even half of Isabella's talent, I wouldn't have to worry so much."

*The witch tomorrow is already paid off. Once we bring her there, we can complete the final preparation for the ritual. David even has the wolfsbane ready to suppress her wolf. She won't be able to resist.*

I gripped my seatbelt so hard my knuckles turned white.

Twenty-two years.

I was finally seeing this so-called family for what they truly were.

The living room walls were covered with portraits of Isabella from childhood to present.

She wore designer dresses and tiaras, treated like the family's most precious treasure.

Meanwhile, I didn't have a single solo photo on the wall.

Growing up, if Isabella coughed, Linda would cry with worry. If Isabella got sick, David would drive across the city in the middle of the night just to get her favorite strawberries.

And me?

I was always physically weak, barely showing any werewolf traits.

When I ran high fevers, Linda would simply toss two pills onto my nightstand.

"Be good, Emma. Mommy has to go take care of Isabella. Take the medicine and sleep it off."

I used to think they favored her because she was more talented.

I tried so hard to be perfect. I did all the chores and pushed myself in training, desperately hoping for just one nod of approval.

Now, I finally understood.

I wasn't their daughter.

I was just a "destiny vessel"—carefully raised and ready to be slaughtered for Isabella.

***