"No! Don't jump, don't…" The girl lying on the bed shook her head violently, thrashing around as if trapped in a nightmare. Her voice trembled with desperation, pleading incessantly, "Please! Who are you? Who… are you?" 

"Luna, wake up! Luna!" A girl rushed in from another room, her voice tinged with panic as she shook the sweat-soaked girl. Her heart clenched at the sight of the crystal-clear tears streaming down her sister's pale face. 

Even her long hair was drenched in sweat! Luna Norst must be having that nightmare again. 

Under her sister's frantic shaking, Luna gradually woke, but her starry eyes, as clear as autumn waters, shimmered with unspeakable fear and unshed tears. 

"Sis! I dreamed of her again! I saw her again! And this time, it was clearer than ever. Her eyes… they were filled with endless sorrow. Who is she?" Luna was exhausted, collapsing into her sister's arms. Her slender body trembled uncontrollably. 

What was going on? 

Luna had been dreaming of the mysterious woman since she was five years old. Each time, the dream left her feverish and drained, her spirit shattered for days. Afterward, their parents would cradle them with looks of heartache and pity, as though they feared they might lose them. 

Was there a hidden tragedy in their family's past, something the elders refused to talk about? 

"Luna, it's okay. You haven't dreamed of her in years, right?" 

Vivian Norst couldn't shake the unease tightening in her chest. It was inexplicable, irrational—but overwhelming, as though something terrible was looming just beyond their reach. 

"This is different! This time was different!" Luna's flawless, porcelain face showed rare panic. 

"In the past, I could only see fragments, blurred and indistinct, with no sound at all. But this time, I saw everything, every detail. I even heard their voices clearly!" 

Vivian was equally baffled by her sister's strange dreams. In this modern age, who would believe such ephemeral, dream-like tales? 

Could it be that Luna was somehow connected to the girl in her dreams? 

"You once said," Vivian began hesitantly, "that there was a girl dressed in a lavish, ancient wedding gown. On her wedding day, she ran from a palace to a cliff, chased by a crowd. And then… she jumped off the cliff, ending her life…" 

"Yes! Because she was forced into the marriage!" Luna closed her eyes, the sorrowful scene replaying in her mind. She could never forget the anguish in that girl's eyes. 

"Forced marriage…" 

"Mm! Because she loved someone else." Luna's voice faltered, her words laced with melancholy. In her dream, she had heard the girl's sweet, clear voice, like the melody of a nightingale, singing a song full of sadness and longing. 

"Really?" Vivian's unease grew, morphing into fear. She wished her sister would stop remembering such vivid details. 

But it was too late. Luna had seen too much, heard too clearly. Forgetting was no longer an option. The pain she felt for the stranger's tragedy was etched deeply into her heart. 

"Enough! Stop talking about it. It's just a dream, understand?" Vivian couldn't bear to hear any more. 

"Sis! I also know her name." Luna's beautiful, clear eyes turned misty, her voice barely a whisper. 

"Her name is so beautiful… so beautiful. She's called—Ancia Norst!" 

"Norst!" Vivian gasped in disbelief. 

The surname Norst! That meant… she was connected to the Norst family! 

In the Norst family's garden, a middle-aged man sat solemnly, his expression filled with sorrow as he recounted a tale passed down through generations to the three youthful girls before him. 

This story was one every Norst descendant had to know and remember, for it carried the weight of their family's legacy—the key to its rise and fall. 

The girls, captivated by the tragic beauty of the tale, were unaware of the deeper fears hidden within their father's heart. They listened intently, enamored by the romance, yet oblivious to the terrible curse entwined with it. 

The tragic truth? They were the cursed descendants. 

Victor didn't want to burden his daughters' innocent hearts with such dark truths, but Luna's recurring dreams of Ancia had left him with no choice. 

"Dad! So Ancia didn't know that Samuel survived?" The youngest daughter's eyes brimmed with pity. "Ancia is so pitiful!" 

"Legend has it that after Ancia leapt to her death from the cliff, Samuel soon followed, ending his life as well," Victor said, his voice tinged with sadness for the star-crossed lovers. 

"Ancia was a white wolf. Her unparalleled beauty caught the eye of Alpha Reinhardt, who sought to claim her. The tribe forced Ancia to marry Reinhardt, but her heart already belonged to Samuel. Their meeting and love were so romantic, yet so tragic," the eldest daughter commented while holding her son, her tone both analytical and empathetic. 

Victor often met his eldest daughter's indignation with a smile, but it was his second daughter who drew his attention this time. 

"Lucy, why are you so quiet?" 

The girl seated in the center remained the calmest. Her father's story left her sighing deeply. She pitied Ancia and Samuel, their love unworthy of such cruel fates. Though she couldn't fully grasp the anguish between Ancia, a white wolf, and Samuel, a rogue, she shared their sorrow. 

"Was Samuel truly the rogue everyone despised?" Lucy asked, her delicate brows arching slightly. Gone was the frightened girl from the night before; she now spoke with quiet strength. 

"There's no record of that in the Norst family's archives," Victor replied with a playful tone, glancing at his breathtakingly beautiful second daughter. 

Her beauty, admired by all who saw her, seemed almost otherworldly. Perhaps it was this striking resemblance that made Ancia so fond of Lucy in her dreams. Could it be?