Rules of survival:The Wolf King’s amnesiac lover

Twilight faded, a dark veil enveloping the sky, bringing a chill that permeated the air. Wind rustled through withered trees outside the orphanage, branches creaking ominously like whispered prophecies. The main entrance stood shut, weathered stone steps bearing witness to time. A trail of blood snaked across those cold, unforgiving steps. A girl lay crumpled at the door, drenched in blood, resembling a tortured soul escaped from hell. Her breathing shallow, eyes closed, skin pale as parchment - on the brink of vanishing into encroaching darkness. Suddenly, harsh cries of ravens filled the air. Countless black birds descended, wings blotting out the remaining light. Warm dusk vanished, replaced by suffocating darkness. Ravens circled overhead, harbingers of inescapable fate. Caretakers tidying the yard heard the commotion. Discovering the girl, they screamed, shattering evening's tranquility. They scrambled to find the headmistress, a dignified elderly woman. She emerged, face inscrutable. Standing at the entrance, she gazed at the raven-filled sky, complex emotions flickering in her eyes. Lips trembling, she murmured, "What was meant to come has arrived." The old woman examined the bloodied girl, eyes betraying deep sadness. Rising slowly, she addressed the anxious caretakers, "Sky's full of ravens today. We'll call her Ravenie. Quickly, prepare a room for her." A young caretaker hesitated, "Headmistress, she looks about 18. Isn't she too old to be an orphan?" Others nodded, confused. The headmistress remained resolute, gazing at Ravenie as if recalling a distant memory. Voice low but firm, "I've been repaying a debt to her for 40 years. A few more won't hurt. After I'm gone, don't send her away. Let her leave when she chooses." The caretakers exchanged puzzled glances, whispering among themselves. Forty years? What could it mean? None dared question further, silently obeying. Hearing the headmistress's words, identical to her past life, Ravenie was certain she'd been reborn. As caretakers looked on horrified, she felt her body growing heavier, consciousness fading. Eyelids like lead, reminiscent of her final moments leaping from the city's tallest building. Her eyes slowly closed, falling into a bottomless abyss. Yet this dream was unusually vivid, her consciousness maintaining a peculiar clarity. In her dream, she met eyes that terrified her to the core, the last memory of her previous life. "Ah—" Pale fingers suddenly twisted the sheets. Searing pain vividly relived once more. Why had she returned here, to this man's side, even after death? Mind clouded by his searing heat, she instinctively resisted, "Don't touch me!!!" The man paused, then, as if his reverse scale touched, his face darkened. Icy lips descended ferociously, as if to devour her whole. Pain so intense, she could only mumble, "Why... why me... Dominic... why did it have to be me..." "Because, it could only be you." His low, hoarse voice reached her ears, shackling even her soul. In her previous life, adopted by the Davis couple, she'd been mistreated, with only their daughter, Serena, seemingly caring for her. Ravenie never imagined her adoption was part of a scheme. The Davises despised her; she was merely a tool for benefits. They wanted Serena to marry the Wolf King, Dominic. Hearing he sought a girl with a strange symbol behind her ear, they'd scoured orphanages and adopted her. The dream shifted. Serena looked down contemptuously, sneering, "Dominic will only ever be my husband. How could a mongrel like you stand beside him?" Watching this, Ravenie wanted to tear Serena apart. You rescued me, handed me to that demon, then discarded me like trash. Hah, I must've been blind to trust you, she thought. Unbearable scenes flashed before her. She pinched her arm hard. Images shattered, transforming into endless white space. Surroundings covered in snow, air frozen. Her breath condensed, slowly dissipating. This space had no temperature, no sound, only suffocating silence. Ravenie stood suspended in this void. Suddenly, a dilapidated wooden door appeared. Paint peeled, revealing weathered wood grain. The door frame crooked, panel inscribed: "My end is the beginning of all things." This sentence struck her like electricity. Heart racing, hair on end, a chill down her spine. She instinctively stepped back, feet stuck to the ground. "Should I go through?" she wondered. Ravenie grasped the ice-cold handle. Some irresistible force drove her on. She pulled open the old door. A musty smell hit her, mixed with a familiar cedar scent. That fragrance carried memory fragments, evoking vague awareness. She stepped inside an ancient room. Walls mottled, wooden beams rotten. Dust covered the floor, rising with each step. An old table stood center, piled with yellowed papers and tattered books. An oil lamp sat in the corner, cobwebbed and unlit. Ravenie approached, fingers brushing the fragile papers. Her gaze caught a faded photograph. The blurry figure seemed to look directly at her. She reached out, but the moment she touched it, the room began to shake violently. Walls peeled, floor cracked, everything torn apart by invisible force. Low murmurs filled her ears, countless voices intertwining: "My end is the beginning of all things." Ravenie woke in a small room at the orphanage. Her eyes snapped open to find herself on an old wooden bed, under a yellowed blanket. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. The dream images lingered - the door, cedar scent, those words - seeming to foretell her destiny. She knew this dream wasn't coincidence. Deeper mysteries awaited. Yet Ravenie felt oddly calm, as if this strange place wasn't so unfamiliar. She pushed back the blanket and padded barefoot to the corner dressing table. An old, battered piece, its wooden surface worn beyond recognition. But an exquisite looking glass hung on the mirror stand. Ravenie picked up the ornate mirror, its icy touch making her shiver. She studied her reflection, face still bearing traces of fatigue and pallor. As she brushed aside her hair, she noticed a strange symbol above her ear. A mark she'd never seen, its curved lines like some ancient imprint burned into her skin. Her heart raced as she looked again at the mirror. The pattern carved into its handle matched the symbol behind her ear exactly. This eerie coincidence sent a tremor through her. The orphanage must connect to her past somehow, this symbol the key to unlocking lost memories. Outside, the hallway remained silent, only a faint breeze rustling old curtains. Ravenie's gaze grew determined. She knew Dominic would send someone in a few years, but she had to plan first. Her previous life was confusion, losing all memory after collapsing at the orphanage gates. She suspected someone had erased her memories before hunting her down, leaving her to collapse from exhaustion. This time, nothing would stop her uncovering the truth. She'd live for herself. Seven years passed. The orphanage stood like an abandoned fortress, crumbling daily. Moss crept up walls, withered trees seemed lifeless, even sunlight reluctant to touch this place. Everything rotted, Ravenie the only constant. Her appearance frozen at eighteen, pale skin and deep-set eyes giving an otherworldly aura. But her beauty brought no fortune. She became the "cursed one", feared and despised. No one approached her, even caretakers avoided her like plague. Caretakers grew increasingly cruel. At breakfast, they'd toss her the stalest food, like scraps to a dog. Sometimes she'd pick edible bits from moldy bread, while others enjoyed fresh bread and milk. Any discontent met sneers: "What more do you want, curse?" Her room was the darkest, dampest corner, near sewers, filled with musty odor. Cockroaches and rats scurried at night, keeping her awake. Not a single caretaker helped; even routine cleaning neglected. Those meant to care treated her like garbage, leaving her in filth. Another stormy night, rain pattered against eaves, cold air seeping in. Ravenie curled up as moonlight cast a pale glow. The room silent, as if the world slept. But her mind was far from peaceful. A familiar oppression crept over her, pulling her into the abyss of dreams. The dreamworld pale and hazy, bitingly cold, frozen in time. She couldn't see the man's face clearly, but knew he was crucial. An invisible force bound them in life and death. Though unclear, she sensed his presence - that familiar aura of sadness and pain. Ravenie felt uncontrollable sorrow, tears streaming. Her eyes filled with despair and anguish, as if being torn apart. She choked out, trembling: "Dominic, please... help me... erase these memories... I can't bear it..." Her voice laden with endless pain and pleading, as if haunted by inescapable nightmares. Her hands clutched his sleeves, tears falling silently. The man stood tall and silent, gazing with complex emotions. Deep love, tinged with helplessness and heartache. Her despair pierced him like a knife, each tear carving a wound. "Why?" he asked softly, voice hoarse. "Why such pain? How can I help?" Ravenie shook her head, tears flowing. "I can't say... please... help me forget... or I won't be able to live..." The man's heart clenched. He couldn't understand her agony, nor what she wanted to forget. But he felt her real pain, powerless to ease it. He lowered his head, looking into her tear-filled eyes, heart conflicted. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, voice restrained and bitter, "I'll do as you ask... but remember, no matter what you forget, I'll be here waiting." He gently kissed her cheek, eyes brimming with love and sorrow. Hearing this, Ravenie's tears flowed anew, but she insisted. She closed her eyes, waiting. The man took a deep breath, placing his hand on her forehead. An invisible force flowed, surroundings blurring. Ravenie's breathing steadied, tears ceased, body relaxed, as if all pain drawn out. Yet the man's heart felt torn in two. He didn't know what she'd lost, what she'd forget, but knew he was losing a part of her, perhaps forever. As the final light faded, Ravenie's memories erased, her face peaceful. The man stood gazing, etching her image deep in his heart. "I'll wait for you..." he repeated softly, voice filled with endless sorrow and deep affection. "No matter what you've forgotten, I'll be here waiting for you to return." The dream shattered like torn canvas, everything blurring. Ravenie jolted awake, gasping, body shaking violently. Forehead drenched in cold sweat, heart pounding as if surviving a life-death struggle. She sat up, trying to calm her breathing, but dream images remained seared in her mind. She couldn't see the man's face clearly, but heard herself call him Dominic. Why him? How could that demon be so gentle? Was their meeting at the Davis' house not their first? She knew this dream wasn't coincidence. She'd once asked someone to erase her memories, and this man was clearly important. But why had she forgotten everything? What were those painful memories? Why choose to forget? Ravenie had never felt so uneasy. "Who..." she murmured, heart filled with questions and fear. She touched the symbol behind her ear, seeking comfort. The mark remained cold, but she knew it connected to her past. She took a deep breath and lay back down, trying to calm herself. But she knew the man from her dream wouldn't fade easily; he'd reappear in her future. That night, Ravenie tossed and turned, unable to sleep amidst thoughts and unease. Little did she know that the story behind that dream was quietly being rewoven, intertwining her fate with that man's once again. Ravenie looked out the window, rain tapping against glass as if urging her to seek answers. No longer hesitating, she quietly put on her coat and tiptoed out. The hallway deathly silent, only wind whistling through worn window cracks, bringing bone-chilling cold. Her destination was a room deep within the orphanage, where the director once lived. Since the director's death, this room had been sealed off, hardly anyone daring to approach. An inexplicable, eerie atmosphere always seemed to shroud the place, as if time itself had stopped there.