Chapter 2

Linnea's POV

I curled up on the couch in the dimly lit living room, my bones still aching as if they had been brutally dismantled. Soren and Aveline walked in, laughing and chatting. Delphine, my mother-in-law, squeezed in behind them, a smug look on her face that instantly soured when she saw me.

"How long are you going to keep up this half-dead act?" She kicked the edge of the sofa viciously. "The house looks like a pigsty, and there isn't a single hot meal ready! You lie around playing sick, you don't bring in a dime of prize money from the court, and you couldn't even keep a Vane family heir in your belly. You are the shame of this family!"

Gritting my teeth, I propped myself up on my elbows, cold sweat rolling down my forehead. "My body... I physically can't stand."

"Shut up! Stop using your disgusting illness as an excuse!" She pulled Aveline forward, her eyes gleaming. "Look at Avey! She is the pride of our family! Tomorrow at the finals, she is going to bring home the ultimate championship!"

Soren frowned, shooting me a dismissive glance. His voice was entirely devoid of warmth. "Linnea, you're really letting yourself go. Don't just lie there like a corpse. Get up and walk around. At least pace the house."

Midnight. The severe pain and cold sweats kept me entirely awake.

Suddenly, the mattress shifted slightly.

I opened my eyes—Soren was sneaking out the door.

Fighting the burning ache in my muscles, I followed him barefoot into the hallway. At the end of the corridor, he boldly pushed open Aveline’s bedroom door.

"Soren, tomorrow is the championship," Aveline’s voice was sweet, but she didn’t even try to hide her controlling tone. "That trophy is mine."

"I know you can win, Avey." Soren sounded anxious. "But seeing her coughing up blood today... I feel guilty. After you win this, I genuinely want to divorce Linnea."

"Divorce? Are you out of your mind?" Aveline’s pitch skyrocketed, her sweet facade shattering. "If you break the Mate bond and she slips out of your control, the kinetic transfer system that old witch Morwenna set up will be completely ruined!"

It felt like a sledgehammer had slammed into my chest. I clamped a hand over my mouth, too terrified to even breathe.

"Listen to me carefully," Aveline hissed, her tone fanatical and ruthless. "She is the vessel for this system! As long as you keep her bedridden and motionless, all the fatigue and injuries from my training and matches transfer to her. That's the only way I can keep winning championship after championship without any physical toll!"

"But she's barely holding on..."

"So what if she doesn't?" Aveline cut him off fiercely. "Halfway through my match today, I suddenly couldn't catch my breath! Did you actually watch her swallow that potion, or did you go soft on her?!"

"I swear, I watched her drink every last drop!" Soren defended himself frantically.

Aveline scoffed. "Good. The Pack's annual combat tournament is coming up. That’s the real main event. Once I win that and rank up to Gamma, the Vane family can finally hold our heads high among the Alphas again. You just have to endure her for one more year. By the time I stack enough prize money and fame, the curse’s backlash will have turned Linnea into a corpse with failing organs. When she finally 'dies of illness' in her bed, who will suspect a thing?"

A moment later, Soren muttered, "Fine. Tomorrow, I'll make sure she's locked down in the house."

"Remember, time it perfectly," Aveline said coldly. "The moment I step off the court, you have to drag her out of bed and make her move! Otherwise, the curse will rebound, and I’ll be forced to stay in motion until my heart gives out. Do you understand?"

"Don't worry. I've got it."

I silently retreated to my bedroom, clenching my fists in the dark. All the lies, the mysterious illness, the baby I couldn't save... I finally had the answers.

The next morning, at first light, the living room TV was already blasting the pre-match coverage of the tennis finals.

"Ladies and gentlemen, championship favorite Aveline is doing her final warm-ups!"

I slumped helplessly on the sofa, every breath tearing at my lungs.

"Drink it." Soren stood over me, holding half a glass of that dark green liquid, his eyes as cold as a snake’s.

"I've been drinking this for so long, and I'm only getting worse," I said, meeting his gaze while forcibly burying my hatred. "Starting today, I want to stop taking it."

On TV, the umpire's whistle blew. "Play!"

"I said, drink it!" Dropping the gentleman act, he snatched the collar of my pajamas and shoved the glass toward my mouth.

I jerked my arm up, "accidentally" knocking into his elbow.

The glass shattered on the floor, the green liquid splashing everywhere.

Soren’s head whipped toward the TV timer, then down to the puddle on the floor.

Less than a minute until Aveline started exerting true force on the court.

"Have it the hard way, you bitch. Since you won't cooperate—"

He cursed, giving me zero time to react. He rounded the table, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and brought a heavy, brutal chop down on the back of my neck.

Pain exploded. Everything went black.