Chapter 2

Ezora's POV:

I felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of ice. Struggling failed me so I accepted my fate like the punishment I deserved.

I never thought emotions were possible in the afterlife as guilt gnawed my heart; the promises I had made to my dying mother to keep the pack safe and her legacy passed down, began to haunt me.

The afterlife. I had once foolishly imagined it to be like watching a sunset, with Arlan beside me after old age had done a number on us.

Seeds of resentment grew inside me and my soul reverberated. He stole even that from me. If I'm given a second chance, on my life, I will drain every last blood of every Silver moon borns—Arlan would get a taste first, THAT is a promise.

In a matter of seconds, I felt something pierced into my chest and I groaned in pain, but I am assuming the gods of the underworld are not done with me as I felt a whirlpool of heat move inside me, consuming me till I felt it all over my body.

“Make it stop!” I screamed, swirling and scratching.

I tried opening my eyes, but every effort failed. The voice of my mother grew louder and louder all around me, lecturing me with that same strict, pitched tone of hers like I was five again, reminding me of my one true purpose; protecting Blood Moon pack.

“Please, make it stop!” I cried, this time I finally snatched my eyes open and jerked up a sitting position.

The pain abruptly stopped. In contrast to the darkness I expected, I'm somewhere bright and not some Iced sea. I assessed my body for burns, hands and eyes tapping and moving in sync all over my upper body, but I'm perfectly fine instead.

I reached for my legs, but my moving under something uncomfortably thick and disturbing, caused a rattling of what sounded like ceramics and I instinctively snapped to the right of my foot. A tray with an empty bowl almost tipping over.

I lunged and caught it in time. Only then did I take in the realisation that I was in a bright purple coloured bedroom with walls intricated with flowery designs. My eyes swept through everything; This was my bedroom back at Blood Moon Pack house. Could I be dreaming? I pinched myself and winced from the pain that shot back.

How could this be possi—

“Miss Wellfield!” A middle aged woman comes out of the wash room accompanied by a young maiden slightly younger than I am. My heart cried, even my wolf that was silent of me whimpered. I recognised them both; Ursala, my wet nurse who loved me like a mother and …my stomach dropped…and her daughter, Isabella.

“You’re still in bed? I figured you'd be on your feet already, your betrothed would be here any minute bearing gifts. We cannot make him wait!”

“Betrothal gifts? From whom?” I was confused. Wasn't I already married?

Was I saved and being given to a new mate? The thought aggravated me.

She hurried to me, Isabella following behind.

“Your darling, Alpha Arlan, of course. Who else could it be?” Ursala responded, helping me out of bed. Isabella giggled.

I stopped in my tracks. No. This couldn't be real. Isabella was dead, and I certainly could not be marrying that traitor for a second time.

Was this a punishment from the goddess or was my mind now creating an escape from the torment?

“No!” I almost screamed the roof off, yanking my hand off her hold too hard and fast that I lost balance, and earned a tear on the back of my shoulders from the pointed edge of a sculpture.

Blood trickled down. This truly was no trick or a dream. It was real and my shoulder hurts now.

Have I gone…back in time?

I looked Ursula dead in the eyes, ignoring the pain. “Where am I and what time and year is this?”

Ursula gave me a weird look and touched my forehead. “Are you fine, Dear child? Should I call in the healer?”

“Do not!” I blurted. “I am perfectly fine, I just…I am curious to know if YOU are in good health. I am afraid the older people get, the less they recall. Take father for instance, he forgets his environment and thinks he is being chased by unseen demons sometimes.” I say convincingly.

Ursula looked offended for a minute. Father was by far older than she was so the comparison made no sense, but she answered anyway.

“Today is the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, and exactly 5 days to your wedding ceremony —that’s if you don't miss your betrothal gifting, you naughty child.” She twirled me towards the bathroom, wearing a smile. “Ugh, we'd have to clean up your cut and pray Alpha Arlan loves you enough to still want a scared bride.” She teased.

So I have indeed gone back in time, cheated death too. But how? Why? Was there a price to pay for this gift, or is the goddess making up for past loss?

Bitterness soaked up my heart, watering the resentment inside me.

Whatever it may be, it does not matter to me right now. Arlan must pay first. My mother's legacy must continue, and I'd rather have my skin peeled layer after layer than marry that bastard again.

I stepped out of the wash room feeling brand new. No trace of his touch will ever be on me in this lifetime.

My heart hardened at the sight of the beautiful gown on the bed. Tears brimmed the round of my eyes as I ran a finger along the fabric.

There was nothing to be cheerful about in this lifetime. No, not when the destroyers of my life were still breathing. Surely a Black gown would do, perfect to reflect the mourning in my heart and keep me on the right path.

“Change it. I want a plain black gown.”

Ursula’s face went pale as though I muttered an abomination.

“What?! You can't be serious, Ezora, that's a bad omen!” She waited for a response, an explanation perhaps, but I gave her none.

I thought fast in my head, I should arrange for both of them to leave somewhere far away, till this fight is over at least.

When the silence stretched, Ursula added, “Don't you love purple anymore? I can arrange Yellow gowns, Pink ones, Blue—”

“Your job is to follow my orders, is that not so?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound stern.

The pain in Ursula's eyes punched me in the gut. Isabella lowered her eyes and I blinked away. How was I supposed to explain this was for their own good?

“Yes, My Lady. Forgive me for over stepping. I'll arrange a black gown immediately” Ursula gave a curt bow and hesitantly left the room.

She returns sooner than I expected with a black gown. Even though it was plain black as requested, It still managed to look celebratory on me. The red of my hair watered down in curls like an accessory over my shoulders.

“Your mother kept this for you as a gift” Ursula says, locking a beautiful red ornament around my neck.

I don't argue. I looked like an alluring goddess of death. Mother had always been thoughtful, unlike me.

“I am ready.” I said more to myself as I turned for the door.

************************

“Stop!” I commanded, entering just in time to see my father about to accept the gift from an impatient Beta—Leonard, I recognised. Just as in my last life, Arlan does not deliver the gifts himself, belittling the reputation of my Pack.

Everyone in Moonlight hall turned in sync to my direction. I stopped gracefully in front of my father, letting the rounds of shocked “awwws” settle.

“Why are you dressed like a widow in mourning on your betrothal day?!” My father whispered to my ears, “You are dishonouring the pack!”

“I do not accept your gifts.” I said flat and loud enough for everyone to witness. Another round of gasps spreads through the hall.

“Ezor—”

“Betrothal gifts to a Future Lycan Luna, and your Alpha couldn't bother to show up? THAT is dishonourable.” I stressed the last words, glancing at my father whom I had cut short.

The shocked look on Leonard's face is satisfying. “Apologies, My Lady, But the Alpha is painfully occupied with court matters, he couldn't —”

“So the mate bond is a joke to your Alpha? A burden? How about I unburden him then? This engagement is off—”

“What could ever be more important than you, My love?”

I froze, tiny dots crawled my skin and for a moment, I couldn't find my tongue as I recognised that annoyingly rasped Northern accent. I forced myself to turn as the double doors opened up.

He strode towards me. His usual sweet; deceptive; half smile worn to charm. His hair was short, dark, curly as mine but neatly sat on his head.

I felt uneasy as he stopped in front of me, a gift wrapped carefully in his hand. Every inch of me reverberated, and I wished so much to end him at the spot. No, killing him now will bring bad luck. I needed a careful plan; cut off the mate bond first.

“Beloved,” He began, but that word made me boil with annoyance.

Without second guessing it, my palm met his cheek so hard his face turned to the side.

“Ezora! How dare you?!” One of the Elders shouted amidst the chaotic sounds that erupted from the others.

Arlan present pack members crushed the gifts they held and bared both fangs and claws, ready to strike.

Arlan twitched his jaw muscles, waving one hand to have his men stand down.

“Have I offended you, My love?”