Selena.
I woke up with a loud scream, my body jerked upright, my hands clutching at my chest as if I were still falling.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt. The echo of wind screamed in my ears, and for one terrible moment, I expected pain. A crushing one.
But there was none.
I slowly opened my eyes to see that I was on my bed. In my room.
The familiar canopy hung above me, pale and still. Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and warm, touching the walls of my childhood room. The scent of lavender and mountain air surrounded me.
I sucked in a shaky breath.
I was alive?
"No," I whispered. My voice shook. "This isn't possible."
I pressed my hands against my body, half expecting to feel broken bones or blood. But there was nothing. No pain. No wounds.
My gaze flew to the window.
Our pack ancenstral mountain stood in the distance, whole and untouched.
How is this even possible? I could still remember everything.
Silas's hands. The sudden force. The look in his eyes when he let me go. Loretta's smile as she kissed him and watched me fall.
My stomach turned violently.
I scrambled out of bed and stumbled to the mirror. The girl staring back at me looked the same. Soft brown hair. Full cheeks. Wide eyes filled with something darker than before.
I rushed to the calendar on the wall. My fingers trembled as I traced the markings.
Two weeks.
Two weeks before my wedding day.
A sound tore from my throat, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, my back against the bed.
"But, I died," I whispered.
You did.
The voice was soft, steady.
I froze.
My breath caught painfully in my chest. "Who said that?"
I felt it then. Not around me, but inside me. Deep. Warm. Awake.
It is me, the voice said. Your wolf.
Tears filled my eyes. "You've never spoken to me before."
You were not ready, she replied. You were asleep. So was I.
I shook my head slowly. "I felt everything. The fall. The pain. The betrayal."
Yes. Your death broke what was holding us back. And I am here to protect you henceforth.
I pressed my palm to my chest. My heartbeat felt different. Stronger. Steadier. Something felt different. I felt different.
"I thought he loved me," I whispered. "He saved me when I was a child."
My wolf's presence tightened, like a warning. He wanted your bloodline. Your crown. Not your heart.
The words hurt more than the fall ever did.
I drew my knees to my chest and buried my face in them. That moment, I felt truly alone.
My father's face flashed in my mind. His smile. His strength. His voice when he called me his pride.
A knock sounded at my door.
I flinched so hard my heart stuttered.
"Selena?" a familiar voice called. Calmly. Concerned. Perfectly practiced. "May I come in?"
Silas.
My blood turned cold.
I stared at the door as if it might open on its own. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to scream the truth. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
But I quickly remind myself that this was before the wedding.
He had not pushed me yet. He might not need to, because he would need the wedding ceremony to officially announce him as the incoming alpha King.
I swallowed hard, l wiped my face and forced my voice to steady. "Yes."
The door opened.
Silas stepped inside, dressed in dark clothes, his expression gentle and worried. The same face I had trusted with my life. The same eyes that had watched me fall.
"My love," he said softly. "I heard you were awake. I was worried."
One look at him and every memory came rushing back. The mountain. The wind. Loretta's kiss. His hands letting go. Something inside me went very still.
His presence that once brought me comfort and safety felt nothing like it again.
"I'm fine," I said at last.
He studied me, confusion flickering across his face. "You don't look fine."
I met his gaze and forced a small smile. " I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Our wedding," I said. "I can't believe we are finally going to be husband and wife." I said, not exactly sure why I said that.
His brows drew together. Surprise flickered across his features before he smoothed it away.
"You've been looking forward to it," he said carefully.
I have been looking forward to it, what a quiet way to tell me that it was about me and not him, because he was never interested. But I was too blind to notice.
"I know. It just feels so unreal." I replied.
"Is there anything you need me to do to make it feel real enough?" he asked, his voice tender, almost flirticious. "You know I would fight off kingdoms for you," he added.
I forced a smile. "I know," I replied with a convincing smile, making it the first lie I told in my second life.
It was hard reconciling this man with monster that pushed me down the cliff.
"Come with me, Breakfast is ready,"
"I'll join you shortly," I reply. "I need to freshen up."
"Of course," he says. "Take your time."
His footsteps retreat down the hall.
Only then do I release the breath I didn't realize I've been holding.
Oh my God, how am I going to be able to pretend that everything is alright when nothing is.
I will try, I will do everything within my bother to make sure that, that bastard doesn't get away with whatever he has up his sleeve.
I turn toward the bathroom and close the door behind me, locking it out of habit. The mirror reflects the same woman I saw earlier, but now my eyes are steady. Awake.
I shower slowly, letting the water run hot over my shoulders, grounding myself in sensation. In my first life, mornings were rushed. I was always trying to be smaller.
Faster. Easier to love.
Not today.
I dress carefully, simple, modest, comfortable. The version of me they expect. The version they never feared.
As I step into the hallway and head toward the dining room, a sound stops me.
Laughter.
Soft. Feminine. Giggling in that breathy, intimate way meant for only one listener.
I slow my steps.
The sound slides into my memory like a blade.
I've heard it before.
In my past life, I heard it countless times. Always dismissed it as harmless. As family closeness. As me being overly sensitive.
I continue walking.
When I enter the dining hall, she is already seated beside Silas, leaning in close. Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulder. Her smile is bright.
Loretta. My adopted sister.
She looks up when she sees me.
"Good morning, sister," she says sweetly.
Sister.
The word almost makes me laugh.
She has always worn kindness like a mask. I only realize now how well it suited her.
I force my lips into a smile and take my seat across from them.
The table is full.
Eggs, fruit, pastries, grilled meat, toast, tea, juice—more food than any three people need.
Yet when the maid steps forward, she places only one thing before me.
A cup of green tea.
And half a slice of bread.
My fingers still.
I stare at it.
I remember this.
Every morning. Every meal.
Green tea helps you lose weight, my sister used to say, smiling gently. You'll feel lighter. Healthier.
Even Silas had nodded along. It works wonders, he'd said. Just give it time.
I gave it months.
And I never changed.
Not my weight. Not my appetite. Not the way my strength always felt dulled, my energy drained.
A cold thought settles in my chest.
Was it really just tea?
"Are you alright?" my sister asks, her voice laced with concern. "You haven't touched your food."
"I'm fine," I reply evenly. "I'm just not hungry."
She nods, then turns to Silas with a smile.
"This turkey is perfectly toasted today."
"It is," Silas agrees. "You always choose well."
She laughs softly, pleased.
""I wish you could eat with us like a normal person," she said, glancing at me. "But you already have so much extra weight. I understand how hard it is for you, sister."
I lower my gaze, as I used to.
Silas chuckles. "I like her just the way she is," he says.
But his eyes...
They are not on me.
They are on her.
I lift the cup of tea, pretending to drink. The steam curls up toward my face, bitter and sharp. Over the rim, I watch them.
The way her fingers brush his wrist.
The way he leans closer.
The way their smiles soften when they think no one is looking.
In my first life, I was blind.
Or perhaps I simply refused to believe they were capable of such betrayal.
After a while, my sister stands. "I have somewhere to be," she says lightly. "I'll see you both later."
"Drive safe," Silas replies.
She leaves without another glance at me.
Minutes pass.
Then Silas pushes back his chair. "I just remembered something I need to take care of," he says. "I won't be long."
"Of course," I say.
He leaves.
The moment the door closes behind him, my hand loosens.
The tea cup slips from my fingers and shatters against the floor.
The sound echoes through the empty dining hall.
I stare at the mess, my heart pounding—not in shock, but in disbelief.
How did I swallow their deceit so easily?
After a moment, I stand.
The maids rush in to clear the mess on floor.
Instinctively, I closed my eyes and breathe in.
Being able to recognize and trace a scent has always been a gift of mine—dulled by neglect in my first life. Ignored. Suppressed.
Now I let it guide me.
I follow their trail through the halls, quiet as memory. It leads me upstairs. Down the familiar corridor.
To her room. I stop at her door which is slightly ajar.
I do not enter. I do not need to.
I could see everything going on from where I stood.
Silas has my sister pressed against the wall, his hands at her waist. Her arms are around his neck, her mouth open beneath his. They are laughing softly between kisses, unbothered.
My heart stinged with a million invisible needles. It takes everything in me not to scream. I do not deserve this.