LOGINMy heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped beast as I stared into the full-length mirror.
The cold iron chains, the bone-snapping blow to my jaw, Clara’s sharp heel grinding into my bleeding cheek, and the suffocating drop from the gallows, it had all vanished. My skin was smooth, pale, and untouched. No rope burn. No bruises.
I was standing in my dressing room at the Silver Moon Packhouse, wrapped in a deep emerald velvet gown that clung tightly to every rich, voluptuous curve of my body. My heavy breasts overflowed the tight corset, my waist dipped sharply, and my hips flared out with plush, soft weight.
I was twenty again. This was the night of the annual Grand Alliance Banquet. The night Alpha Brandon was supposed to announce our official betrothal as his mate, but instead chose to publicly humiliate me before the entire realm.
A cold, deadly calm washed over the horror of my memories. They thought my curves were a flaw? They thought my soft body made me weak? In my first life, I had starved myself and begged for Brandon’s approval. In this life, I would watch him bleed.
Suddenly, a sharp, searing heat spiked behind my gums. I gasped, clutching my mouth as my canine teeth throbbed violently. I leaned closer to the mirror, pulling my lip down with trembling fingers. Beneath my normal teeth, two sharp, razor-thin white fangs extended downward before slowly retracting back into my gums.
A dark, icy craving roared to life in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't hunger for food, nor was it my wolf spirit waking up. It was a carnivorous, primal thirst for fresh, warm blood.
My mind spun in terror. What was happening to me?
A sudden, dizzying memory flashed behind my eyes, cold ocean water swallowing my lungs, red light cutting through the dark abyss, and the vague, blurred shadow of a breathtaking man with glowing eyes bending over me...
The vision shattered as quickly as it came, leaving my head pounding and my heart racing. I had no idea who that dark shadow was or what had been done to me in the depths of the sea. All I knew was that something terrifying and powerful was waking up inside my body.
"Jennifer! Did you hear me?" my stepmother barked, throwing the dressing room door open with a slam. "Brandon is already on the main stage! Stop obsessing over your weight and get down there!"
I turned slowly, my dark eyes locking onto hers. In my past life, her sharp voice would have made me flinch. Tonight, as I caught the faint, pulsing rhythm of the artery throbbing in her neck, my stomach churned with a dangerous, predatory thrill.
"I'm coming," I said, my voice smooth, cold, and entirely devoid of fear. I stepped past her without a single glance.
The grand ballroom was packed with hundreds of wolves from neighboring territories. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over silk gowns and polished armor. As I stepped onto the upper balcony, I saw Brandon standing on the central stage under the bright spotlights. Clara stood just two steps behind him, wearing a tight golden sheath dress that highlighted her bony, razor-thin frame.
Brandon looked up, his dark eyes locking onto me as I walked down the grand marble staircase. In my past life, I had cowered under that gaze, terrified of his rejection. Tonight, I held his gaze with a razor-sharp, lethal smirk.
The music faded. The crowd quieted as Brandon stepped up to the crystal microphone.
"Members of the Alliance," Brandon’s voice boomed across the hall, full of arrogant authority. "Tonight was meant to be the celebration of my betrothal to Jennifer Sinclair. But as an Alpha, my first duty is to the strength and prestige of this pack."
He paused, looking directly at me with calculated cruelty, expecting to see me tremble and break.
"A Luna must represent perfection, agility, and power," Brandon continued, his voice amplified so every pack leader could hear. "Jennifer’s... physical state and lack of restraint prove she cannot carry the burden of an Alpha’s mate. She is simply too large, too untamed, and unbefitting of the title."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs of secondhand embarrassment bounced off the walls. Clara raised her hand to cover a fake, sympathetic gasp, though her eyes danced with malicious triumph.
"I Brandon Clove reject you Jennider Sinclair as my mate." He said and pain shot through my body but I supressed it.
In my first life, this was the moment I had burst into tears, begging him in front of everyone not to abandon me.
Not tonight.
Before Brandon could launch into his pre-planned speech about demoting me to a servant, I stepped directly onto the dais. The sheer confidence in my stride made him pause, his brow furrowing in confusion.
I didn't wait for him to speak. I reached into the neckline of my dress, unclasped the silver betrothal necklace he had given me two years ago, and held it up between two fingers. My blood thrummed as the scent of his weak Alpha aura hit my nose, and for the first time, it didn't intimidate me. It smelled like prey.
"You're right, Brandon," I said, my voice echoing clearly through the silent hall without a microphone. "A Luna should represent strength and power."
I dropped the silver necklace. It hit the polished stone floor with a sharp, metallic clink.
"And you are entirely too weak to handle a real woman," I added softly, letting my gaze drift dismissively over his stiff posture before landing on Clara. "Keep him, Clara. A scrap like him suits a beggar like you."
The entire ballroom went dead silent. Brandon’s face flushed a deep, ugly red, his jaw dropping open in sheer disbelief. He opened his mouth to bark an order, to reassert his dominance, but I didn't give him the satisfaction.
I turned my back on the Alpha, on my stepmother, and on the pack that had cheered for my execution.
I walked straight out of the grand heavy doors and into the dark, misty night, heading toward the forbidden royal forest. The cool night air hit my bare shoulders, but beneath my skin, my strange new blood burned hot, driving me forward into the shadows where I felt the pull.
The cold blue light of the candles flickered against the damp marble walls of the chamber. Jennifer stood near the edge of the grand silk bed, her chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths.Before her stood Elder Malakar. His pale, withered face looked like carved bone, covered in centuries of deep wrinkles, and his milky-white eyes locked onto her with a terrifying, ancient hunger.Jennifer took a small step back, her fingers instinctively touching her bare collarbone where her true mate mark had once burned. "Why should I trust anything you say? You are a vampire elder. You serve Lucien.""I serve the throne, my child
When Jennifer finally opened her eyes, the world felt agonizingly cold and silent.She was lying on the soft, heavy black silk sheets of the grand bed in Lucien’s chamber. For three long days, her mind had been trapped in a dark, empty void. Her body felt heavier than stone, and inside her chest, there was a terrible, hollow ache that made every breath feel like swallowing glass.The sacred mate bond with Salvatore was gone. The bright, warm golden tether that had once filled her soul with hope, strength, and love had been violently torn away. Where the glowing red mate mark had once burned on her collarbone, there was now only smooth, unblemished, cold skin.She was completely empty inside. She felt dead.Lucien was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her quietly in the soft glow of the candlelight. His sharp, dark f
A high, piercing scream shattered the heavy air of the ruined throne room. It was a sound of unadulterated, soul-tearing agony, a cry so raw and guttural that it vibrated off the shattered marble walls and echoed into the cavernous rafters above.Jennifer threw her head back against Lucien’s chest, her body convulsing in his crushing embrace. Beneath her skin, a horrific metaphysical war was being waged. Lucien’s ancient power, thick and suffocating like molten iron, surged through her bloodstream, hunting down every trace of the sacred warmth Salvatore had left within her. The shadowy spiderweb of vampire magic didn't just cover her skin; it descended into her very soul, clawing at the glowing red mate mark on her collarbone and attempting to forcefully overwrite it, as it had already overwritten half of it."Stop... please..."
The smell of burning ozone and burned flesh filled the vast, shattered throne room. Inside the shimmering circle of ancient crimson runes, Salvatore was brought to his knees. The blood-trap hissed and crackled like white-hot iron against his Lycan skin whenever he pressed his fists against the invisible barrier. Behind him, his elite vanguard howled in agonizing frustration, trapped in the same suffocating cage of dark magic."Jennifer..." Salvatore rasped, his glowing amber eyes locked on her with raw devastation, fury, and heartbreak. His chest heaved violently under his spattered leather armor as he stared at her torn emerald gown, the exposed linen underneath, and the fresh hickey lingering on her throat. "Look at me... Jennifer, look at me!"Jennifer squirmed in Lucien’s iron grip, her dark silver eyes brimming with tears of helpless horror. She tried to reach her hand out toward S
The gilded chamber was drenched in a thick, suffocating silence, broken only by the ragged sounds of Jennifer’s breathing. She lay pinned beneath Lucien on the bed of black silk, her head spinning in a hazy, euphoric fog. His ancient, powerful blood coursed through her veins like liquid fire, heavy and sweet, lacing her hatred with a dark, electric arousal that made her body throb with a needy, humiliating heat.Lucien lingered over her, his cool lips resting near her ear as his pale hand pinned her wrists above her head. He was savoring his victory, drinking in her flushed, trembling state like a man who had finally captured the sun.Then, the world shattered.A low, deep rumble shook the very foundations of the Obsidian Keep. The stone floor vibrated violently, sending the crystal decanter on the mahogany table crashing to the tiles in a shower of dark
After the suffocating intensity of the bath, Lucien stepped back, allowing two quiet, subservient vampire maids to enter the gilded chamber. They worked with practiced, silent efficiency, helping Jennifer out of the warm water and her wet, torn gown, then wrapping her damp body in soft, heated plush towels. They dressed her in a heavy, silk-lined velvet gown of deep emerald green. The fabric was soft against her sensitive, fevered skin, yet the cut was dangerously low across her chest, leaving her neck and collarbone entirely bare, a silent invitation for the King who claimed her.The moment the maids stepped away, Jennifer stood trembling in the middle of the luxurious room, wrapping her arms around her middle to steady herself against the lingering weakness in her limbs. The door opened, and Lucien walked back in. She turned her dark silver eyes toward Lucien, who stood near the grand mahogany table, watching her with a cal







