Chapter 1

Natasha's POV

I stood dazed in the shadows of the underground parking garage, my legs as heavy as lead. The scene before me was like a nightmare, yet unbearably real.

My boyfriend Byron's car was rhythmically shaking, with nauseating moans drifting through the slightly opened window.

"Byron, ah! Right there... faster!"

That voice was all too familiar to me—Erin, my best friend, whose family business ranked among the notable ones in Selene City, though she hadn't contacted me in a long time.

No, it can't be. I must have heard wrong.

My heart nearly stopped, yet my feet unconsciously moved forward. Just then, the window opened a crack, and a hand with bright red nail polish extended out, holding a lit cigarette between fingers. On that slender hand was the silver butterfly ring I had given Erin for her birthday last year.

"Your technique is much better than last time," Erin's voice was languid and satisfied. "Haven't you always wanted to work at Infinity Corp? My family has a partnership with them. If you serve me well, I promise to get you something better than what you have now."

From inside came Byron's muffled response, "Thank you, Erin... I'll work even harder..."

Five years of love collapsed thunderously in that moment, my brain buzzing with static, but my body moved automatically. I rushed forward and pounded on the window.

"Byron!" I screamed, my voice so hoarse it barely sounded like my own, pounding the window until my knuckles hurt, "You despicable liar!"

The window suddenly opened completely, and I clearly saw Erin's bare legs and Byron's brown head buried between them. A strong wave of nausea surged from my stomach to my throat, and I bent over, dry heaving beside the car, tears flowing uncontrollably.

The movement inside immediately stopped, followed by the frantic sound of clothes being put on. Byron got out first, his expression changing from surprise to embarrassment to anger, and finally to a condescending coldness.

"Natasha?" he growled, "What are you doing here?" His voice held no guilt, only irritation at being interrupted.

I stood up straight, tears blurring my vision, but I could still see his expression—arrogance and contempt.

"What am I doing here?" My voice trembled, growing louder until it became a heart-wrenching cry. "I just got rejected from my seventh job application today, thought I could get comfort from my boyfriend, wanted to take a shortcut home to see you, and found my boyfriend and my best friend in a car..."

My words trailed off as I choked up, tears flooding out like a broken dam.

"Five years... five years of love... our future... our promises... all lies?"

He hung his head as if somewhat guilty, and said heartlessly, "Let's break up."

I lunged forward and slapped Byron hard across the face, the sound echoing through the parking garage. My palm stung, and Byron's face was marked with a bright red handprint.

His eyes instantly turned the distinctive orange-yellow of werewolves. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a corner dozens of feet away. His strength was shocking, bruises immediately forming on my arm.

"You damn human!" he hissed, his voice filled with venom I'd never heard before. "Who do you think you are? How dare you hit me?"

Erin walked over then, lazily adjusting her clothes, a yellow glint flashing in her eyes. "She dared to hit you?" she looked at me with disdain. "Seems she doesn't know her place."

"I thought we were equals..." I choked out, tears streaming down uncontrollably. "I thought our love transcended the boundaries between humans and werewolves..."

Byron let out a cold laugh, forcefully pushing me against the wall. "Equals?" he was almost howling. "You're just a lower-class human. You should feel lucky I stayed with you for five years! But Erin," his voice suddenly softened, "she can give me so much more."

"Just because of power and status?" My voice was barely audible as my heart sank to the bottom. "You were with me only because you couldn't find a better werewolf partner?"

"Clever human," Erin clapped as she approached. "Of course he needs to move up. Infinity Corp wouldn't hire an Omega who dates humans, but now it's different—with my recommendation, he'll quickly establish himself in the company."

A flash of pride crossed Byron's eyes. "Besides depending on me because you can't find work, what have you ever done for me? You can't compare to her."

Every word they spoke was like a sharp knife, plunging deep into my heart. All our time together over five years became lies in that moment. I had tended his wounds, helped him when Alpha werewolves bullied him, stayed with him through his most difficult times, and this was his repayment?

"Byron." I wiped away my tears, examining his face one last time. "I see you clearly now—you're nothing but a shameless bastard. In your eyes, I was never worthy of being your partner, just a distraction while you waited for a better opportunity!"

I shoved him away forcefully, throwing the bag he'd given me hard against his chest. "I wish you both happiness!" I said hatefully.

I turned and quickly walked away, Erin's harsh laughter echoing in my ears. Tears blurred my vision as I ran almost blindly forward, desperate to escape this hellish place immediately.

Suddenly, blinding headlights shone directly into my eyes, accompanied by the sharp screech of tires against pavement. I instinctively turned my head to see a black Rolls-Royce speeding toward me at an alarming rate.

Time seemed to slow in that moment—I saw the headlight beams refracting like rainbows through my tears, the driver's terrified expression, and felt my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I wanted to dodge, but my body remained frozen, unable to move.

The next second, pain shot through my entire body like lightning. The car's front bumper struck my side hard, and I felt a suffocating impact, as if all the air had been squeezed from my lungs.

I crashed heavily onto the cold cement, and the moment my body hit the ground, intense pain filled my brain along with a piercing buzz. I tasted the iron-like flavor of blood.

"Damn it! Is this parking lot out to get me today?" I gritted my teeth as I tried to stand up.

The car door slowly opened, and a tall figure emerged from the darkness. The parking lot's dim yellow light shone from behind him, enveloping his entire form in shadow, revealing only a vague silhouette. He walked toward me with unhurried steps, the sound of his leather shoes striking the ground particularly clear in the silent space, each step feeling as if it landed on my heart.

As he approached, I could barely make out some of his features—broad shoulders, a slender build, and black hair that gleamed coldly in the light. Most of his face remained hidden in shadow, with only the outline of his jaw and the corner of his thin lips occasionally caught by the light, revealing an undeniable authority.

But most chilling were his eyes when he stepped into the light—they flickered in the darkness like the deep sea, seemingly able to devour everything, making me shiver involuntarily.

He didn't concernedly ask about my injuries like an ordinary person would, nor did he frantically call for emergency services. He merely looked down at me, his gaze carrying a spine-chilling assessment, like a hunter observing wounded prey.

A long-fingered hand extended before me, the moonstone ring on it glistening with mysterious blue light. I noticed his nails were perfectly manicured, and the cuff visible at his wrist featured exquisite silver cufflinks engraved with ancient runes I couldn't understand.

At that moment, this hand held a thick wad of cash between the middle and index fingers, enough to cover several months of my rent. "Next time, watch where you're going, human." His voice was deep and magnetic, rich like fine whiskey yet devoid of any warmth. "This money should be enough for a new pair of pants and to treat those minor injuries."

Without waiting for my response, the bills scattered like snowflakes over and around me, some even staining with the blood on my knees.

In that moment, all the pain, grievance, and anger exploded in my chest like a dormant volcano finally erupting. My tears mixed with the blood on my forehead, flowing hot down my cheeks, but I no longer felt shame—only an unprecedented anger and determination burning within me.

My fingers trembled as they clutched a bill, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. I wanted to scream, to fight back, to tell this arrogant werewolf that I too was a person with dignity.

But there I was, kneeling on the ground in a wretched state, without even the strength to stand up—what right did I have to speak of dignity?

In this werewolf-dominated world, humans like me would always be second-class citizens.

Must I forever be treated as an inferior being?

"I don't need your charity!" I shouted at his retreating figure, my voice hoarse but firm. "I am a person, not garbage you can trample on as you please! I would rather bleed to death than accept a single cent from you!"