Third Person's POV Rain poured over the Moonvale Pack's ancestral cemetery. The scent of wet earth and silverstone drifted in the air-heavy, suffocating. Alpha Remus's voice cut through the storm like a blade. "On your knees," he ordered coldly, his tone carrying the full weight of an Alpha command. Aysel didn't speak. This was the grave of the wolf who had died because of her. The photo on the tombstone was being washed clean by the relentless rain, and this time, Aysel did not resist. Her knees hit the marble ground with a hollow thud, quickly soaked by the icy water running across the stone floor. "We're not asking you to worship your savior's daughter," Alpha Remus said, his voice hard as granite. "But at least don't be ungrateful. Think about what you've done these years. You can't even admit your mistakes. Can you face your aunt, Aysel? You'll kneel here today and repent before her spirit."Each word from her family was another lash against her skin. The rain grew heavier, driven by sharp northern wind that whipped across her face. Even the umbrella could not keep it out. It was cold-so cold Aysel felt as if she had never walked out of that rainstorm when she was six years old. After a long silence, Celestine finally persuaded the others to return to the convoy. Soon, only two wolves remained: one kneeling, one standing before Luna Yuna Ward's grave. The silence stretched until Celestine spoke first. "You know," she said softly, "I used to envy you." Once, she hadn't been Celestine Ward at all. She was Celestine Voss, the daughter of a broken rogue wolf-Carden Voss, a drunkard, gambler, and woman-beater, who also happened to be a master at hiding his corruption behind a mask of civility. For years, Celestine believed all fathers were like him. Her mother, proud and stubborn, refused to ask for help from her kin or let the pack see how low she'd fallen. The two of them lived among rogues and half-bloods in the outskirts-isolated, surviving on scraps. The pups around her called her "trash-born" and "mud wolf." She bit back by calling them "strays without a den." Their lives were nothing but tooth for tooth, claw for claw. Then one day, she met Aysel Vale-her little cousin from the Moonvale Pack. The girl wore a floral dress and smelled of lilies and Alpha bloodline purity. Her golden aura was so clean it hurt to look at. In that moment, Celestine realized there were wolves who lived under sunlight, not under shadows. Aysel had it all: parents who adored her, brothers who doted on her, a home filled with warmth and laughter. She was carefree-so bright it was infuriating. The first time they met, Celestine hadn't even dared to touch her, afraid her dirty hands might stain the fine fabric.But Aysel didn't care. She pounced forward with a giggle, hugging her tightly and sharing candies and toys Celestine had never seen in her life. Celestine hated her. Aysel's light made her darkness unbearable. And then, her mother began to change. Yuna grew quieter, more somber. Celestine overheard whispers, words soaked with bitterness. Her mother told her once, with shaking voice, "The life Aysel has should have been yours." Alpha Remus Vale, Aysel's father, was supposed to be Yuna's mate. But he'd betrayed her, choosing her younger sister, Luna Evelyn, instead. Heartbroken and deceived, Yuna had fallen straight into Carden's claws. "If it weren't for that twist of fate," Yuna said, "you'd be Alpha Remus's daughter. You'd live like a princess in Moonvale." Celestine was too young to understand what that meant-until the night Carden came home drunk again. He lashed out, fists flying, fangs flashing. Her mother shielded her, taking blow after blow, until blood covered the walls.In the chaos, Yuna pushed her daughter out the door. "Run to Moonvale!" she ordered. "Go to your aunt-they'll help!" Celestine staggered through the storm, half-conscious, until she reached the grand gates of the Moonvale Pack. Through the silver rain, she saw Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn standing under the porch, calling their pups home. Fenrir and Lykos were laughing as they tried to cheer up a sulking little Aysel, who was angry because her brother had picked her moonflower. Celestine stood there, soaked in blood, head throbbing, watching a family whole and radiant. And Aysel-so clean, so loved-was crying over a flower. How absurd. She had crawled out of a pit of pain, and yet her cousin wept over something so small. That day, jealousy took root in her bones like frost. When Luna Evelyn and Alpha Remus saw her, their smiles froze. Even though they hadn't meant harm to Yuna, guilt still clawed at them. They acted fast-tore Carden from her life, cast him into the rogues' prison, and sent Yuna enough silver to rebuild. When Yuna returned to her mother's den, the first thing she did was strip Celestine of her father's name. She became Celestine Ward. A declaration to the world-Yuna's daughter, not his. Life grew easier after that. Back in the Ward family's care, she no longer feared hunger or beatings. She and her mother often visited the Moonvale Pack again. Celestine told her mother once that she hated those visits, hated how small she felt beside Aysel's brilliance. Her mother only stroked her hair and whispered, "What your cousin has, you'll have too. What she took from me, I'll take back for you." Not long before her death, Yuna's eyes had changed. Her voice turned strange, filled with a calm that felt like farewell. She would murmur to herself under the moonlight, "My daughter will live better than hers. What Moonvale owes me will be repaid-one way or another." Celestine never doubted her mother's love. Yuna Ward had given everything-her blood, her sanity, her life-for her daughter. And now, standing before her mother's grave in the endless rain, Celestine's voice trembled, low and almost reverent. "I used to envy you, Aysel," she said again. "But now I wonder-if you'd lived my life, would you still be able to shine?"