Chapter 1

Leah

My name is Leah White, and I was born cursed.

My mother, Louisa, was the chosen priestess of the Silver Moon Pack, sworn to serve the Moon Goddess in her temple with songs and prayers. She was meant to devote her entire life to the Goddess—no love, no mate, no children. But she fell in love with Lycan King Sylus, and I was the result of that forbidden bond.

The Moon Goddess is cunning. Instead of punishing my mother directly, she cursed me: hideous red blotches across my face that would only vanish if someone truly loved me… or if I died. My mother swore an oath to protect me no matter the cost, and she paid for it with her life, bleeding out after a difficult birth.

The Silver Moon Pack’s Alpha was ashamed of the scandal. He erased my mother’s existence and dumped me—an infant—with a family in the distant Night Shadow Pack that shared no blood with me. That’s how I ended up under the roof of my stepmother, Martha Cole.

From the moment I could walk, I was the pack’s punching bag. Martha never hid her hatred. She called me “ugly bastard” to my face and made me sleep in the freezing attic on a rotting mattress, feeding me scraps after everyone else had eaten. Her real daughter, Ella—my stepsister—was the pack’s golden girl: silver-gray hair like liquid moonlight, perfect skin, and a smile that made every male wolf weak. Ella bullied me relentlessly. She’d rip my clothes at gatherings so everyone could laugh at the “monster marks” on my face. She spread rumors that my curse was contagious. And Martha? She whipped me for the smallest mistakes and locked me in the basement for days without food. “A thing like you should have died in the womb,” she’d hiss.

I grew up believing I was worthless, but I clung to one desperate hope: that somewhere out there was my true mate, someone who would see past the scars and love me for who I was.

When I turned twenty, I discovered I had a rare gift for werewolf medicine. I poured everything into it, becoming the best healer the Night Shadow Pack had ever seen. Still, they treated me like trash. Ella sabotaged my work every chance she got, jealous even of the skill I had that she didn’t.

Then came Samuel Black.

He was a warrior who’d been crippled by wolfsbane poisoning—abandoned by the pack, left to rot. I spent months nursing him back to health, using forbidden herbs and techniques no one else dared try. When he finally stood on his own again, he dropped to one knee and proposed. He called me his savior, promised to protect me forever. I believed him.

It was like a dream comes true.

The three-year engagement was hell disguised as heaven.

He refused to announce me publicly, always saying, “Wait until I’m stronger.” In private, his kindness dried up. He flinched when I got too close, muttering that my blotches made him nauseous. Still, I stayed. I healed his lingering injuries in secret, helped him climb the ranks, gave him everything.

A year ago, I found out I was pregnant with his child.

I thought it would change everything. I thought he’d finally see me as more than a tool. I told him with trembling hands and tears of joy.

He laughed in my face.

“You think I’d let that thing live?” he sneered. “Your blood would ruin my line.” That night, he forced wolfsbane-laced tea down my throat. I miscarried in agony, bleeding alone on the floor while he walked out to spend the night with Ella. “You were just a toy,” he said on his way out. “And a bad one at that.”

After that, he didn’t even pretend anymore. He paraded Ella around the pack, let her hang on his arm while I watched from the shadows. He used my skills to gain power, then mocked me openly: “The barren freak couldn’t even keep a pup alive.”

I died inside long before they killed me.

It happened in the Moon Shadow Pack hospital.

The air stank of antiseptic and wolfsbane.

Slap.

His palm cracked across my face. I clutched my burning cheek, staring in disbelief at the man I’d loved for three years—Samuel Black.

“You… want me to save Ella? You know she needs my heart!”

A werewolf’s heart holds pure lunar power—the only cure for severe wolfsbane poisoning. Taking it would kill me.

“So what?” Samuel’s ice-blue eyes glittered with contempt. He dragged a finger across my blotched skin hard enough to draw blood. “Ella is the most desired female in the kingdom. And you? You really thought I could love this?” He gestured at my face. “I endured you for three years because your heart could save her. That’s it. The engagement, the nights I touched you—every second made me sick. And that miscarriage? Best thing that ever happened. I’d never let a monster like you bear my heir.”

Every word carved deeper. Three years of devotion, my healing gift, my body, our lost child—all for nothing. He and Ella had been lovers the whole time, laughing behind my back.

Blood tears rolled down my cheeks as I laughed—broken, hysterical. “I loved a monster.”

Samuel grabbed my wrist, forcing me to obey him.

“Take her to surgery,” he ordered. “Harvest the heart. Make sure she feels it.”

Anesthesia flooded my veins, paralyzing my body but leaving my mind screaming. The side door opened. Martha walked in with fake tears, and Ella—supposedly poisoned and dying—sat up on the table, perfectly healthy, smirking.

“Thank you for the heart, dear sister,” Ella purred, stroking my hair. “Too bad I never needed it. The poisoning was a performance—Samuel’s idea. We just needed you compliant long enough to cut it out and boost his power.” She leaned close. “He told me about the pup. Said it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard.”

Rage and grief exploded inside me.

Then Ella screamed, staring at my face.

The blotches were gone.

In the reflection of the steel tray, I saw myself for the first time—flawless skin, luminous green eyes brighter than moonlight, beauty that eclipsed Ella a hundredfold. The curse had lifted in the moment of death.

“No!” Ella shrieked, face twisting with jealousy. “Kill her now! She can’t be prettier than me!”

Martha snatched a scalpel. “She should’ve died years ago—stealing attention, daring to breed—”

I couldn’t speak, but my lips formed the words: I will haunt you. All of you. Blood for blood.

Martha laughed coldly and plunged the blade into my chest.

Pain consumed me. With my last strength, I lunged, teeth sinking into her throat, tearing flesh. She screamed as the knife twisted deeper. Blood filled my lungs.

The Moon Goddess’s lament echoed in my ears as darkness closed in.

I will have revenge. I will make them suffer a thousand times more.

Pain—sharp, blinding pain—yanked me awake.

My eyes flew open to a man’s face inches from mine. He was pinning me down, body heavy and scorching hot against me. Jet-black hair fell in blood-streaked strands over eyes dark as midnight—predatory, intense, burning with raw possession. His broad chest pressed into me, every hard muscle outlined beneath a torn shirt, radiating lethal power and pure Alpha dominance. Rough fingers clamped over my mouth, calloused palm searing my skin.

Blood and pine and wild storm filled my lungs—his scent. It slammed into me like lightning, igniting every nerve. Heat flooded my core, fierce and uncontrollable. My body arched instinctively, thighs clenching as liquid desire soaked through me. I’d never felt anything like this—this desperate, aching need to be claimed, bitten, filled. My breath came in shallow gasps, vision hazy with want.

Who is he? Why does his scent make me want to beg?

Then recognition hit.

The scent of the sea air through the porthole. The gentle rock of waves.

This was the cruise ship cabin—three years ago.

The night before I was supposed to marry Samuel.

I’ve been reborn.

And this time, they will all burn.