Third Person's POV Even though Aysel had a notorious reputation in her youth, there was no denying her beauty. Many young male wolves professed annoyance with her in words, yet their eyes betrayed them, constantly darting to steal glimpses of her. At the gathering of the Pack alumni, the wolf male caught himself thinking-he had done reasonably well for himself. Aysel, though still of a prestigious bloodline, was not as untouchable as her reputation suggested. And if she were still that striking, he could certainly have considered having her as a mate. A sharp temper? It hardly mattered. One look at her face alone would bring status and pride to anyone by her side. But the moment he arrived, Aaron, confident in his own standing, had already been shown his place by Aysel. He had also learned, to his surprise, that Aysel's current mate was none other than Magnus Sanchez, the ruling Alpha of Shadowbane Pack-a wolf with wealth, power, and influence. Magnus indulged her whims without hesitation: a luxurious lodge delivered at a whim, other pack heirs bending over backwards in their presence. Chasing her? That was no longer even a fantasy-just thinking about it made him wary. When Aysel stepped up to defend the class leader, the male wolf had no choice but to give a sheepish apology and retreat. Meanwhile, Zenia's gaze lingered on the familiar form of Aysel, overlapping with the image stored in her memory. A smile spread across her face. "Long time no see," Zenia said softly. Aysel returned the smile, her amber eyes calm yet radiant. "Long time no see. How have you been?" Zenia faltered for a moment, a twinge of shame crossing her features. This encounter was not about demanding answers for past disappearances, not about questioning the money she had secretly received, but about genuine concern for her well-being. Although their paths had crossed years before, they had never been close. Both had endured hardships, keeping their interactions polite but minimal. After the trials of the High Moon exams, Zenia's parents had refused to support her university studies. Even with grades fit for the highest ranks of lycan scholarship, they had wanted her to leave immediately to work in the human world, even arranging a suitor decades her senior from another pack. On the day of the small alumni gathering at the pack grounds, she had intended to consult elders about tuition grants and inter-pack scholarships. But her parents arrived, intercepting her. They swore that even if she managed to enroll, they would follow her to her dorm and sabotage her. If she disobeyed, they could make her life unbearable. Only the night before, they had beaten her, confiscating every coin she had earned from work-study. Zenia felt the cruel contrast of parenthood: other wolf parents lifted their offspring toward glory, while hers dragged her into suffering and thrived on it. No matter how far she ran, she could never escape them unless death intervened. At the time, she had thought in despair that perhaps it was easier to yield, to rot under their control. Throughout the event, her mind wandered, dark thoughts stirring-a wolf cornered, a desperate survival instinct: tonight, at home, only one of them would emerge alive: she or her parents. When the small field gathering ended and others moved toward the next circle of festivities, she quietly slipped away. At the storage den by the grounds, she opened her locker and froze-someone had tampered with it. A bitter laugh escaped her. A thief? Poor luck for them. A prank? They had no idea what she had planned next-a plan far more audacious than any trick they could devise. Inside the locker lay an old pack satchel. On top was an envelope, a corner of crimson bills peeking out, alongside a hastily scribbled note:"Step forward. May your future shine brightly." Zenia stood rooted, laughter mixing with tears. That night, eyes red from crying, she scavenged a leftover wine bottle from the lodge. Using a hundred-credit bill from the envelope, she bought a few bottles of high-proof human liquor, blending them together to deceive her abusive kin. She feigned despair, resignation, the obedient young wolf waiting to be claimed-exactly what her parents wanted. They drank, pleased, celebrating the illusory compliance of the pack's rebellious daughter. Her younger sibling, barely of age, was similarly fooled into drinking a few swallows. That night, she stole every document she could find, as well as unbanked coins, replacing her brother's latest communication device with her own credentials. Before leaving, she slapped each of her kin with the strength of pent-up rage. Her brother, still woozy, thought it a dream-how could his timid older sister dare strike him? Zenia departed directly for the nearest airfield. The cash she had taken, combined with the envelope funds, bought her a flight out of their oppressive territory, marking the beginning of her struggle for survival abroad. Over the following years, she wandered between cities, working tirelessly, learning the terrain of human and wolf worlds alike, eventually reapplying to a new university. Life was grueling yet free. In the last two years, she capitalized on domestic opportunity: producing several small-scale plays with classmates, earning enough to live without constant fear. Her return this time was deliberate: to repay a debt. Though the envelope had no name, she knew exactly who had sent it.