The Last Memory of You

Rose Murdock's POV

From the way Raymond raged, it seemed he had forgotten that he couldn't wait to sever all ties with me only moments ago.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he suddenly grabbed Adrian by the collar. "You're abducting a minor! I could drag you straight before the Pack Council right now!"

Adrian's voice was calm, almost detached. "She's sixteen. She can make her own choices."

Raymond's expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides.

My heart clenched in panic. Adrian's health was already so fragile; if Raymond kept shaking him like this, he might collapse right there and then.

More werewolves began stopping to watch the scene.

My heart raced. I shoved Raymond hard, and my voice rose in a fury. "Let go of my brother!"

Raymond worked in the Pack Council, and he cared about appearances. After a tense few seconds, he finally released Adrian and sneered, "Your brother, huh? Then let me ask him something simple—what's her name?"

"Rose," I blurted out before Adrian could speak.

Raymond's face twisted with rage, like he might attack me any second.

"I was asking him! Who told you to answer? You're playing the part well enough, so why don't you keep pretending to have amnesia? You know better than anyone that he doesn't even know you. He doesn't even know your name!"

I looked him dead in the eye and asked flatly, "Are you out of your mind?"

Then, I turned away and laced my fingers through Adrian's. We started to walk.

Behind me, Raymond's bitter laugh cut through the air. "You think pretending you don't know me will wash away your sins? Our parents died because of you! How can you still live like nothing happened?"

My steps faltered for half a beat before I quickened my pace.

Back in the car, I stared out the window. My mind was tangled and restless. In my ears, all I could hear was Raymond's voice.

"You killed our parents. Just being alive makes me hate you! A werewolf like you should never have been allowed to survive!"

I had been premature, born frail and weak. Because of that, our parents poured all their love and attention into me. They treated me like royalty; every year on my birthday, they would call friends and family to celebrate weeks in advance, showering me with gifts. No matter how busy they were, they never missed a milestone—my first lost tooth, my first successful hunt, my first day at the Young Werewolves Academy.

As a child, I was proud. I thought I was a cub especially favored by the Moon Goddess.

Until the year I turned seven.

It was Raymond's birthday. Our parents had gone out of town for a gathering, and when I came home, I found him curled alone in a corner with nothing but a piece of dried meat smaller than his paw.

That night, I swore to myself I'd give him a proper birthday someday.

The chance came at his coming-of-age ceremony.

Our parents had left early that morning for official business in the Northern Territory. My mother, uneasy about leaving me, had wanted to take me with them. I fought her tooth and nail, crying until she finally sighed and relented. She ended up telling the maids to watch over me.

Alone in the house, I secretly began planning a celebration for Raymond.

I used years of saved allowance to reserve a hall at Moonlight Tavern on the outskirts of town. I even contacted some of his friends ahead of time.

By evening, I was just about to message Raymond to send him there when the ground trembled beneath my feet. A brick crashed down from above, knocking me to the floor. My ears rang, filled only with the roar of collapsing stone.

Seeing the chandelier was about to fall, I tried to crawl to safety, but my limbs were too weak.

In the nick of time, my parents descended from above and threw themselves over me.

In the dark, my mother's weak voice whispered against my ear.

"When I was carrying you, Raymond was only three. He was so full of energy. Once, he begged us to take him to see the fireworks at the local festival, but the roads were icy. I slipped, and the fall triggered early labor. I was bedridden for weeks. You came into this world small, frail, and far too soon. Raymond felt guilty ever since. That's why he never let us celebrate Raymond's birthdays. He thought Raymond deserved the punishment."

My head felt increasingly heavy. My parents repeatedly urged me in a soft voice, "Rose, don't sleep. Hold on a little longer. Stay awake…"

I didn't remember how I was pulled from the wreckage. When I opened my eyes, what greeted me were two lifeless bodies.

I screamed in denial, reaching for the werewolves who had rescued me. "That's impossible! I just heard them—they were talking to me! How can they be dead?"

One of the werewolf guards spoke gently. "That was a recording."

Our parents hadn't gone out of town after all. When the quake struck, they rushed back to the villa to save me.

The shards of the silver chandelier had pierced them beyond healing. But with the last of their strength, they had held the roof up through the night, keeping it from crushing me.

Due to severe blood loss, they knew they wouldn't survive. So, they recorded their voices, replaying them again and again at my side to keep me awake.

Raymond, meanwhile, had been away studying in another pack, untouched by the quake.

When he returned and saw the bodies, his eyes welled with tears for the first time. He rounded on me, voice raw with grief and rage.

"Weren't they supposed to take you with them? Why were you home alone? Did you throw another tantrum to get to the theme park? Did you force them to stay for you?"