My Faked Death Uncover the Truth of My Mate’s Blessing

Chapter 2

The next morning, I told Andrew, "Let's go to the Silverton house together."

His expression froze briefly, then returned to normal. "Fine. We'll leave after giving our gift."

I knew he didn't want me there, and afraid I'd disturb Violet.

But I just wanted to see my family one last time.

Tomorrow, I would be faked died and left.

At the Silverton estate's ballroom, Violet wore a champagne dress. David, who should have been my mate, now look at her full of love.

The sight of them together should have hurt more, but I found I felt nothing. David seemed like a stranger now.

"Dr. Violet's healing potion is miraculous!" someone was saying near the refreshment table. "It healed silver wounds that left werewolves scarred for life."

The crowd murmured appreciation, voices rising in praise for Violet's incredible breakthrough. They mentioned the potion had earned the Elder's recommendation and was now popular throughout Hethrgard, bringing honor to the Silverton name and establishing Violet as a healer of renown.

When Violet saw me enter, her expression flickered—surprise, annoyance, calculation—before returning to its practiced smile.

Her smile was polite but mocking as she approached us, her voice carrying just far enough for nearby pack members to hear: "Morgan came too? What a rare guest."

I ignored her barbed greeting, my attention focusing instead on the potion bottle in a guest's hand. The distinctive cobalt blue glass, the silver stopper, the elegant label with flowing script—every detail was familiar.

This was my research, years of work, still in clinical trials, never shown publicly.

How had my creation become her "masterpiece"?

Violet smiled coldly, leaning close so only I could hear her next words. "Is Morgan interested in this potion too?"

I stared at her without any expression, my face a mask of calm while inside I seethed. I was about to speak, to challenge her publicly, to demand answers, when she suddenly cried out:

"No—"

Before I could react, she fell backward, stumbling and clutching her abdomen with a pained expression.

Chaos erupted around us like a disturbed beehive.

"What happened?!"

"Violet is pregnant! How could you push her!"

"Call the healer!"

"Someone help her!"

In the chaos, I heard a tense shout: "Violet!"

Others might not recognize it, but I realize immediately.

It was Andrew's voice.

The tenderness in his eyes was obviously, shattering my last hope.

Realizing my attention, Andrew quickly calmed himself down.

He looked at me, his tone softly but condemning: "Regardless, Violet is pregnant. You shouldn't have pushed her."

Just then, the butler rushed in: "The Alpha thinks Dr. Violet's potion is special. He's promoting her to the Royal Pack Hospital!"

Joy flashed across Andrew's face—an expression I'd never seen in five years.

I asked quietly, "Why is Violet's potion the same as my research?"

He stiffened but quickly recovered, pretending innocent: "Maybe it's a coincidence. Perhaps you both researched similar things..."

I laughed with no emotion and didn’t know what to say.

All my experiments were done alone, the results locked in my safe.

It only had two keys, one is for me, and the other saved by him.

Though Andrew hid it well, after years together I'd discovered he was the mysterious Elder.

How the potion appeared here was obvious.

This potion was meant as our fifth anniversary gift, developed for his silver-wounded knee.

Now I realized even our mate bond was fake. This gift had become meaningless.

My expression was calm and others couldn’t know what I was considering.

Andrew seemed to notice my change and quickly suggested, "Should we leave now? Find somewhere to relax?"

I looked at him, say the words in calm: "Let's take the yacht. Night cruise, watch tomorrow's sunrise."