Third Person's POV Folly was evil. Ignorance was evil. Among the three children of the Moonvale Pack, Lykos bore none of the burdens that shaped the others. He was not like Fenrir, who carried the crushing weight of succession-granted authority while being flayed by Alpha expectations. He was not like Celestine, who had learned to crawl low, sharpen her claws in the dark, and scheme for every inch of ground she claimed. And he was nothing like Aysel, who had been forced since childhood to bear the sins of her parents with a spine of iron and a heart that refused to break. Lykos's recklessness and naïve privilege were infuriating. To Celestine, Fenrir had always represented an object of longing and attachment. No matter how hard she clawed upward, she knew she would never pry the heir's crown from his head. As for Aysel-her feelings were far more twisted. Aysel had once been the first to reach out and hug her. The first to sneak her sugar candy in secret. And precisely because of that gentleness, Aysel's goodness became a mirror that reflected Celestine's own ugliness. Her mother had paved her survival with blood. And so, in Celestine's warped logic, only by forcing Aysel to inherit the pain that once belonged to Celestine Ward could the universe be made fair. She loathed Aysel's stubborn resilience. Yet she secretly envied her blazing vitality and the way her emotions flared endlessly, like wildfire that refused to die. But Lykos- Lykos possessed, without effort, everything that both she and Aysel had bled for. Simply by being male, he was lifted unquestioningly onto the pack's shoulders. He was willful. Childish. Impulsive. He shirked responsibility. Yet Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn loved him without reservation. Sometimes Celestine wondered:If Aysel had never existed... If her mother had chosen Lykos instead back then- Would she have claimed all of this so effortlessly? The answer was no. Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn doted on their daughters the way one might indulge a favored hunting hound or cherished pet-affectionate, but ultimately expendable when self-interest demanded sacrifice. But for a son? They bore him aloft with everything they had. Celestine had seen through Lykos long ago. All it ever took was a few soft words, a trace of comfort-and the hollowness in his chest would swell with misplaced devotion. His loyalty to his real sister would quietly warp, day by day. On the surface, he was ignorant. But in his instincts, he was painfully self-serving. When his parents and elder brother favored the newly arrived sister, he followed their scent without hesitation. Celestine never corrected him. Never disciplined him. Never challenged his cruelty. And so he believed she loved him most. In truth, long before this-compared to the cold, distant Fenrir-Aysel had once behaved far more like a true elder sister. There was a childlike savagery buried deep in Lykos's bones. Every time Celestine had used him to wound Aysel, she had felt both exhilaration and nausea. This foolish creature lived better than any of them. At times, Celestine even felt grateful that Lykos was not her true blood brother. Because if a brother of her own flesh had ever chosen outsiders over his own kin so easily- She would have ripped out his throat with her bare claws. Lykos was utterly stunned by her words.He had never imagined that the sister he believed to be gentle and kind harbored such accumulated hatred toward him. He opened his mouth to argue. But no defense came. Instead, memories flooded back with suffocating force- Aysel helping him up after he fell as a child, only for him to hurl his toy at her and righteously curse her as a jinx for making his cousin cry at night. Aysel kneeling in mourning for her grandmother, while he-because she had struck Celestine-released a snake into her room to frighten her in the dark. The day she left the Moonvale Pack, when he sneered that she was fake, calculating, unworthy of being his sister anymore. Lykos clutched his head as tears and agony tore through him. Was he truly... this despicable? He was her younger brother. And yet, he had been one of those who wounded her most deeply. Even putting aside the truth that Yuna Ward's death had never been Aysel's sin- Toward him, she had never once been in the wrong. So how had he stood so naturally on the side of her enemies?