CHAPTER 213: CHAPTER 213

Celena’s POV I tossed and turned in bed, my mind a tangled mess. That "dream" felt too real. Finally, gritting my teeth, I decided to call that dress shop again. My heart pounded like a drum as I nervously dialed the number. "Hello, this is Moonlight Spindle Vintage Dress Shop." This time, a young girl with a cheerful, lively voice answered. It wasn’t her... I made some vague excuses, saying I wanted to ask about new arrivals, then hurriedly hung up. After hanging up the phone, I felt even more that all that happened in the morning was probably just a strange illusion caused by my hangover. A little while later, Maya and Rose came to see me after their date. Their faces still flushed with happiness, they chattered excitedly about the silly things Jim and Dave had gotten up to. After confirming I was okay, they left, laughing and joking. Judging by their expressions, they hadn’t noticed anything unusual at all. Rose’s POV Maya and I laughed our way back to our shared room, still relishing the date. "That little Celena is hilarious," Maya said, slipping off her coat. "Getting passed out from a hangover? But I heard things between her and Jacob have warmed up a lot?" I was just about to put down my bag when my movements suddenly froze, and a detail flashed through my mind. "Maya," I frowned and said to her via the link, "There’s a problem." If Jacob really slept in the same room as Celena last night... When we went in just now, did you notice that the room was too ’clean’? Maya froze, then realized what I meant, her expression turning shocked. "You’re right! The room only had Celena, Lily, and Ren’s scents. There was almost no trace of Jacob’s scent left!" That doesn’t make sense. A werewolf’s scent doesn’t fade that easily unless..." We exchanged glances, both seeing the gravity in each other’s eyes. Unless... something had happened in that room during the day, unbeknownst to us. Someone had deliberately wiped away or covered up Jacob’s scent. Carl’s POV Fuck, here we went again. That sickening weakness crawled up from my bones. Staggering over to the liquor cabinet, I poured myself another large glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. Only that burning sensation offered any semblance of relief. Recently, I had been strictly controlling the hunters under my command and hadn’t made any major moves. It was claimed that the sponsors wanted to keep a low profile, but in reality... it was those "financial backer" who are helping me carry out a crazy plan to resurrect Brett. Yes, to resurrect my only son. He was the continuation of my bloodline. I agreed to every harsh condition they demanded, just for them to try and bring Brett back. So now, every day I had to enter that room filled with strange instruments several times and lied down like an experimental subject. Those people would draw my blood and perform all kinds of rituals that I couldn’t understand and exuded strange energy. Every time I saw a faint, almost imperceptible rise and fall in Brett’s chest on his cold body, I felt that all the efforts were worth it. However, the ceremony this morning seemed particularly long, and the blood drawn seemed to be more than usual. I felt my steps were a little unsteady. But I didn’t care. I had only this one son. Although that kid ws too sympathetic and disobedient, but... Kids, you know, would grow up and understand me eventually. When Brett woke up, I decided to have a good talk with him about his mother. I’d always lied to my son that that woman abandoned us father and son, but in fact... She was brutally killed by an out-of-control werewolf. This was also why I became a hunter and why I have never dared to take good care of my son. It’s because Brett looked so much like his mother. Every time I saw him, it felt like he was gouging out my heart with a knife.