Chapter 1

The dark shifter my fiancée so-called "kindly" saved turned out to be the ultimate monster hiding in our holy lands!

I was the Alpha General of the Silver Pack, the man responsible for the safety of the entire High Sanctuary.

The war between the shifters and the Shadow Clan was looming.

When I finally exposed his true identity as a demon prince, my fiancée pointed a blade at her own throat to stop me.

"He is not a monster! He is just a poor, stray soul who grew into a man!" she screamed.

"You're just using your power to settle a personal grudge! You're jealous of the bond we share!"

To help her pet escape, she leaked our entire military layout and whispered every single one of my physical weaknesses to him.

When the Shadow Clan attacked, I led three hundred thousand warriors into a total slaughter.

As I lay there dying, I asked her why she did it.

She simply gave me a cold, indifferent look.

"Do you even have a heart? I've raised Jaxen for twenty years. I couldn't just stand by and watch him die!"

But what she didn't realize was that her precious Jaxen didn't need to die.

I, and the entire Silver Pack, were the ones doomed to a nameless grave.

1.

The Shadow Clan found my weakness and delivered a killing blow.

My soul fragments slowly drifted together, forming a spirit entity.

I found myself tethered to Elara Whitlock again.

Right now, the usually arrogant High Priestess of the Silver Pack was pacing outside a bedroom door.

She kept peeking inside, her face twisted with worry.

When a doctor in a plain white coat finally stepped out, she rushed forward.

"How is he? Is Jaxen going to be okay?"

The doctor bowed his head respectfully.

"Mostly surface wounds, my Lady. It is nothing serious. He just needs a few days of rest."

Hearing this, Elara finally let out a long breath.

"Thank you, God. Thank you..." she whispered.

She couldn't wait another second and hurried into the room.

She lifted the hem of her silk gown, her eyes locked on the man lying in the bed.

As she got closer, fat tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Jaxen, you nearly scared me to death. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you..."

Then, a flash of pure hatred crossed her face.

"It's all Alaric Blackwood's fault. He doesn't know the meaning of mercy."

"He actually brought soldiers to hunt you down. He has zero class for an Alpha General!"

"A man like that, with no compassion, doesn't deserve to lead our pack!"

I stood there, a ghost in the corner, listening to her sharp critique of my character.

Looking at the fury on her face, a dull ache spread through my spectral chest.

So, this is what she truly thought of me...

Jaxen Varkas let out a soft, weak laugh.

To my eyes, that smirk was the ultimate mockery.

He reached out and took Elara's delicate hand into his own palm.

His voice sounded thick with staged emotion.

"Elara, seeing you care this much makes me so happy."

"You saved my life once before, and now you've brought healers for me. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Elara's face instantly flushed with a shy, girlish glow I had never seen before.

"Jaxen, it's nothing. It's what I should do."

"As long as you're okay, I'd do anything for you."

"Really? But you know our packs have been at war forever. If Alaric finds out, won't he punish you?"

Jaxen asked tentatively, looking like a lost puppy who had just stumbled into the human world.

The moment Elara heard my name, her expression turned into one of pure disgust.

She let out a harsh snort.

"Why should I care about that heartless man?"

"You didn't start the war between the Silver Pack and the Shadow Clan. He's just obsessed with the fact that you have Shadow blood."

"You can't choose where you were born. I only told you a few of our pack's weaknesses so you could protect yourself."

"He's too stupid to understand that. I have nothing left to say to a man like him!"

Jaxen curled his lip into a smile where Elara couldn't see it.

He pulled her into his arms, resting his head on her shoulder and rubbing against her like a pet.

Elara giggled, her laughter sounding like silver bells.

To me, it sounded like a jagged glass shard stabbing my heart.

Watching them flirt and touch made my non-existent stomach turn.

I wanted so badly to tell her that the man in her arms wasn't some stray dog.

He was the King of the Shadow Clan, the very monster she should fear.

I wanted to tell her that the "minor weaknesses" she shared were catastrophic when exploited.

Because of her, our army had been crushed, leaving nothing but ruins.

As the commander, I had to burn my very soul as a sacrifice just to keep our kind from total extinction.

And the man behind all of it was her darling Jaxen.

The war, the chaos, the blood―he had orchestrated every single bit of it.