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Chapter 1: The Day I Died in His Arms
The rain wouldn't stop.
It fell endlessly over the black marble courtyard, washing away the blood that soaked the white roses.
Lady Evelina Harthorne — Duchess of Northvale — lay in her husband's arms, bleeding out from a wound just above her heart.
Her golden eyes, once bright and full of dreams, dimmed slowly as she whispered, "Why…?"
The man who held her — Duke Lucien Harthorne — looked down without expression. His black cloak fluttered in the wind.
"You were in my way," he said simply. "The Empire needed your bloodline gone."
And then he dropped her, like a broken doll.
Evelina hit the ground, eyes wide open, staring at the gray sky as thunder rolled above.
She had loved him for ten years.
She had died for him in one.
---
Her vision blurred. Around her, she could hear the crackle of burning roses — her wedding garden, now her grave.
As the fire rose, a whisper echoed through the flames:
"Will you let this be your end, child of the Moonblood?"
"Who's there…" Evelina gasped.
"You are the last of your line. Betrayed, forgotten… but not gone. Do you wish to return?"
Tears slid down her cold cheeks. "Yes… I want to live again. I want to destroy them all."
"Then rise, my child. The Moon remembers her daughters."
The fire swallowed her body — and her soul ignited.
---
When she opened her eyes again, sunlight poured through lace curtains.
Her lungs filled with air — warm, clean, alive.
She bolted upright in bed, heart hammering. Her room — the same ivory walls, the scent of roses — but… different.
Her hands — unscarred. Her ring finger still bore the silver band of engagement.
Then it hit her.
This was her old bedroom — five years before her death.
The day after her engagement to Duke Lucien.
Her breath trembled. "I'm… alive again?"
The maid rushed in. "My Lady! You're awake! You fainted during the celebration last night—"
Evelina's voice came out low and dangerous. "The engagement banquet?"
"Yes, my Lady."
Her mind raced. That night had been the start of everything — her betrayal, her isolation, her doom.
Now she had a chance to rewrite it.
---
She looked into the mirror across the room. The reflection staring back was of a young girl — nineteen, radiant and naive.
She remembered this version of herself: hopelessly in love, blind to lies.
Not anymore.
The goddess had given her a second life. She wouldn't waste it forgiving snakes.
---
When she descended the staircase, the great hall of Northvale Manor was filled with nobles — laughing, gossiping, toasting her "blessed engagement."
And there, across the crowd, she saw him.
Lucien.
Tall, composed, wrapped in his black coat — the same cold grace that had once made her heart race. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable.
In her last life, she had run into his arms that day. This time, she did not move.
He approached, smiling slightly. "Evelina. You look pale. Did you sleep well?"
"I dreamed," she said softly.
"Of what?"
Her lips curled faintly. "Of a man who betrayed his wife and burned her alive."
Lucien froze for half a second — just enough for her to see a flicker of unease.
Then he laughed lightly. "Such dark dreams for a bride."
"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze without blinking. "But I find dark dreams… instructive."
---
The Duke's younger brother, Damien, approached from the side — smiling warmly.
"Lady Evelina, it's good to see you well. You gave us quite a scare last night."
She turned to him, scanning his gentle face. In her past life, Damien had been the only one who had tried to save her — too late.
Now, she knew better.
"Lord Damien," she said quietly. "We'll talk later. Privately."
He looked confused but nodded.
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. "You seem… different today."
Evelina smiled. "Perhaps dying in a dream changes a woman."
---
Later that night, she stood on the balcony, watching the moon rise.
Her pulse thrummed with strange energy — silver light curling around her fingertips.
The voice returned in her mind.
"Your blood remembers, my child. The power of the Moonblood sleeps no longer."
Evelina clenched her hand. "Then teach me. I will master it. And when I do…"
Her eyes turned silver as moonlight shimmered around her.
"I will take back everything they stole — one secret, one lie, one life at a time."
---
In the courtyard below, Lucien watched her silhouette from the shadows. His gloved hand tightened on the balcony rail.
"Interesting," he murmured. "You were never this bold before."
He smirked faintly. "Perhaps my little duchess has finally found her fire."
Evelina turned slowly, her gaze cutting through the night. Their eyes met — hunter and prey, though neither knew which one was which anymore.
The wind howled, carrying the scent of roses and the whisper of destiny.