The Bitter Taste of Death

(Eliza's POV)

My spirit hovered above the scene unfolding before me, unable to interact yet forced to witness every painful moment. There they were—my so-called family—gathered in the main hall of the Morgan Estate.

"Mother!" Katherine's voice rang out, sweet as honey and just as false. "I've missed you terribly!"

I watched in disbelief as Katherine Morgan—the woman who had stolen my identity, who was supposed to be dead—embraced Victoria with theatrical affection. Her skin glowed with health, bearing only minor bruises that did nothing to diminish her beauty.

Victoria clutched Katherine as if she'd received the greatest gift imaginable, tears streaming down her face. "My darling daughter! We thought we'd lost you forever!"

William stood nearby, his eyes never leaving Katherine. The devotion in his gaze made me sick. My own brother—the one who had tormented me relentlessly—looked at her with pure adoration.

"How is my sister?" Katherine asked, her voice dripping with false concern. "I hope poor Eliza hasn't been too distressed by my... absence."

William's face darkened at the mention of my name. "She's been inconsolable, claiming innocence in your disappearance."

James Morgan cleared his throat, his authority filling the room. "Someone fetch Eliza immediately. She should know her sister has returned."

Katherine dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "I feel terrible about the misunderstanding. It was never my intention to cause such pain."

A guard hurried away to locate me, while I watched helplessly as Katherine continued her performance. The pack members gathered around her, hanging on her every word, completely oblivious to her deception.

I wanted to scream, to make them see the truth, but my spirit form had no voice they could hear.

The guard returned moments later, his expression grim. He whispered something to James, whose face immediately paled.

"What is it?" Victoria demanded. "Where is Eliza?"

The guard straightened his posture. "Madam, I regret to inform you that Miss Eliza is dead. We found her body at the bottom of the north cliff."

A collective gasp echoed through the hall.

William scoffed, breaking the momentary silence. "Another dramatic ploy for attention, no doubt. Just like her sister's fake suicide." He spat the words with venom.

"William!" Victoria admonished, but her voice lacked genuine reproach.

"It's not a trick, Young Master Morgan," the guard insisted. "I saw her myself. She's gone."

William's face contorted with rage. "Then dispose of the body. Throw it in the snow for the scavengers. She's no longer worthy of the Morgan name."

Katherine placed a delicate hand on William's arm. "Brother, please. This is partly my fault. If I hadn't disappeared, this misunderstanding would never have happened."

Her performance was flawless—the grieving sister lamenting a tragedy she herself had orchestrated.

"It's not your fault, Kathy," Victoria soothed, stroking Katherine's hair. "You've been through so much already."

James nodded solemnly. "Katherine was rescued by Alpha Daniel Hayes. She's been recovering from her injuries at his residence."

Victoria's eyes widened with excitement at the mention of the Alpha. "The Hayes Alpha himself? What an honor!"

No one mentioned me again. Their beloved Katherine had returned, and my death was merely an inconvenience, a footnote in their celebration. Their wolf instincts focused solely on rejoicing the return of their favored pack member.

I tried to rush forward, to scream at them, to demand an explanation for their cruelty. But my spirit passed through them like mist. I was nothing to them, less than the air they breathed.

An unparalleled rage consumed me. How could they discard me so easily? How could they celebrate while my body lay broken on the rocks?

I watched as they continued their reunion, laughing and embracing as if I had never existed.

A young guard grumbled as he dragged my body across the snowy ground. "Bloody hell, why do I always get the worst tasks?"

He cursed under his breath, kicking my lifeless form wrapped in a tattered blanket. "Causing so much trouble even in death."

I followed him, watching as he handled my corpse with less care than one would show a sack of potatoes. My body was bruised and broken from the fall, blood seeping through the thin blanket.

"Should've stayed away from Miss Katherine," the guard muttered. "Everyone knows the Young Master is in love with her. Getting between them was suicide."

I hovered over my own corpse, overcome with bitterness. How naive I had been to believe I could find acceptance in the Morgan Pack. I had spent months trying to please them, to earn a place in my own family, only to be discarded like garbage.

Katherine had orchestrated my downfall perfectly. First, she faked her own death, making me the prime suspect. Then, when that wasn't enough, she returned to ensure I would be driven to actual suicide—or so they believed.

I remembered every humiliation, every cruel word, every time Victoria had favored Katherine over me despite knowing I was her true daughter. I recalled William's hatred, his constant threats, the way he had tormented me for simply existing.

And for what? I had done nothing but try to claim what was rightfully mine—my identity, my family, my inheritance.

The guard stopped at the edge of the pack territory, where the forest met the wild lands. Without ceremony, he dumped my body onto the frozen ground and spat.

"Good riddance," he said, turning back toward the warmth of the pack house.

Left alone with my own corpse, I felt hatred crystallize within what remained of my soul. If only I had another chance. If only I could return and make them pay for what they'd done to me.

"I will never forgive them," I vowed to the cold, empty air. "If I could live again, I would show no mercy. I would take everything from them, just as they took everything from me."

Suddenly, a strange warmth enveloped my spirit. A soft glow emanated from within me, growing brighter with each passing second.

"Child of ancient blood," a melodious female voice resonated within me. "Your determination burns brighter than the moon itself."

I tried to find the source of the voice, but saw nothing except the growing light around me.

"Who are you?" I asked, my spirit-voice trembling.

"I am the Goddess of the Moon, guardian of all wolves," the voice replied. "Long ago, I granted a female alpha of the Morgan lineage a single gift—the power to transcend time when facing death."

The light pulsed with each word, wrapping around me like a cocoon.

"This ancestor chose to pass this gift randomly to her descendants, a power that would activate only in their most desperate hour, when determination burns strongest despite overwhelming despair."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "You mean...?"

"A century has passed," the goddess continued, "and you, Eliza Morgan, are the first to successfully activate this ancient blessing."

Hope sparked within me for the first time since my death. "Are you offering me a second chance?"

"I am offering you a choice," the goddess clarified. "You may return to a time before your death, before your fate was sealed. But know this—such an opportunity comes only once in a lifetime."

Without hesitation, I answered, "Yes! I choose to go back!"

"Very well," the goddess's voice began to fade. "Remember, young wolf, that changing fate requires more than mere knowledge of what was. It demands courage to forge what could be."

The light intensified, blinding me, and then everything went dark.

I gasped, jolting upright as consciousness slammed back into me. My head spun as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

I was sitting in a moving car. The leather seats were familiar—expensive, well-maintained. Across from me sat an elderly woman with sharp eyes and a stern expression—Nanny Edwards, my grandmother's loyal attendant.

Beside her was a younger woman with a nervous disposition—Ivy Bennett, the maid who had been assigned to me upon my return to the Morgan Pack.

"Miss Eliza, are you feeling unwell?" Ivy asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I couldn't speak. This scene—this exact moment—I had lived it before. We were on our way to the Morgan Estate after being summoned from Green Pine Sanctuary where I'd been living with my grandmother.

This was where it all began. My return to the pack. The beginning of my end.

I pinched my arm hard, wincing at the sharp pain. This was real. I had truly been given another chance.

"Miss Eliza?" Nanny Edwards's voice was cautious, observant. Her eyes studied me carefully, assessing.

I remembered this journey well. Last time, I had been eager to please, desperate for acceptance. I had babbled excitedly about meeting my family, about finally belonging somewhere.

That naive girl had died on the rocks beneath the north cliff.

Looking at Nanny Edwards now, I recalled how she had been kind to me in small ways. She had served my grandmother faithfully for decades and had shown me more consideration than most. And Ivy—despite her nervousness—had genuinely tried to help me navigate the treacherous waters of pack politics.

They could be allies, I realized. But first, I needed to be careful. Nanny Edwards was testing me, I knew that now. She was gauging my character to report back to my grandmother.

I straightened my posture and met her gaze directly. "Nanny Edwards, how much farther until we reach the Morgan Estate?"

Her eyebrows rose slightly, perhaps surprised by my composed tone—so different from the excitable girl she'd expected.

"We're about an hour away, Miss Eliza," she replied. "The snow has slowed our progress."

I nodded, gazing out the window at the passing landscape. Snow-covered pines lined the road, their branches heavy with white powder. The Northern Territory was beautiful in winter, despite its harshness.

"My grandmother," I said carefully, "is she well?"

"Elder Morgan is as strong as ever," Nanny Edwards answered, a hint of pride in her voice.

I turned back to her, a plan forming in my mind. "I'd like to see her before we continue to the estate."

This is my first move to make different. I have to win my grandmother's support, I would have a foothold within the pack—something I hadn't secured in my previous life until it was too late.