GHOST REVENGE

MAYA

I was eighteen when a heavy porcelain vase smashed into the back of my skull, painting the bedchamber floor with my blood.

I was eighteen when the Moon Goddess pulled my lingering spirit from the cold stone, granting me a second chance at life in exchange for an eternity of endurance.

And today, eighteen years later, I stand before the towering iron gates of the Alpha’s mansion as an eighteen-year-old street orphan named Maya—staring directly into the face of the man who ruined my former life.

Alpha Edward has aged into a formidable, silver-templed titan. He wears his authority like a blade, his presence radiating the same heavy, suffocating power that used to make my heart race back when I was a foolish young princess. Standing at his side is Maria, wrapped in pristine dark silk, entirely oblivious to the fact that the dirty, ragged servant girl she just hired carries the soul of the woman she murdered in cold blood.

They think they’ve brought a desperate street girl into their home to scrub their floors and stay out of sight. They have no idea they just unlocked the gates for a ghost.

Eighteen years ago, my name was Philomena.

I was the only daughter of the Crimson Ridge Alpha, a sheltered girl who had been hopelessly, desperately in love with Edward long before he ever cast a glance in my direction. When his previous marriage shattered under the weight of political strain, I thought fate had finally handed me a miracle. I surrendered to his touch in a single night of wild, consuming passion—a night where he held me like I was the center of his universe. He marked me as his mate, placed a silver ring upon my finger, and promised me a lifetime as his queen.

By dawn, that promise was bathed in blood.

While I lay curled in his silk sheets, blinded by love and breathless from his touch, my father was assassinated in cold blood. His pack lands were stripped away, annexed without hesitation under Edward’s growing, greedy empire. When I confronted Maria in a panic, desperate for answers, she didn't just mock my grief. She crept up behind me, took a heavy porcelain vase, and shattered my skull.

I bled out right there on the cold stone floor, unable to scream, unable to fight back.

From the ceiling of the bedchamber, my floating spirit watched as my dead body was discovered. I listened to Edward weep like a broken man over my corpse, cradling my lifeless frame against his chest, while Maria stood just out of his line of sight, hiding a wicked, victorious smile.

Then came the Moon Goddess. She appeared before me in a flash of silver light and gave me a choice: pass into the peaceful light of the afterlife, or take the womb of a dying servant girl and grow up in the cold, unforgiving gutters of the lower pack streets.

I chose the gutters.

I chose eighteen long years of freezing winters, stale crusts of bread, and brutal survival training in the dark. I learned how to move without making a sound, how to read a person’s weaknesses in the flash of an eye, and how to hide a razor-sharp blade beneath a filthy rag. Every drop of sweat, every bruise, and every insult I swallowed from high-ranking pack members was fuel for one singular, driving purpose: total, merciless retribution.

"Move it, maid," a guard barks, his heavy boot kicking the edge of my shoe as he pushes the iron gate open, violently tearing me out of my memories.

I lower my head instantly, hunching my shoulders into a picture of meek, terrified submission as I step onto the cobblestone path.

"Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir," I mumble in a gravelly, trembling voice, playing the part of the battered street orphan to absolute perfection.

As I walk through the grand front doors, the familiar scent of mahogany, fresh lilies, and raw Alpha power hits my senses like a physical wave. Nothing inside this cursed house has changed, except for the monsters who rule it.

From the top of the grand staircase, Edward’s cold, amber gaze sweeps down over the line of newly hired servants. His eyes pass over the others, but the moment they land on me, he freezes. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of deep confusion passes across his features—a ghost of a memory he can't quite catch. His jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring as he subtly catches my scent.

Beside him, Maria shudders. Her hand instinctively flies to her throat, her eyes widening with an unexplainable, instinctual dread, even if she doesn't recognize my new face.

"I don't like her," Maria snaps, her voice sharp and brittle as she crosses her arms over her silk-draped chest. "She looks filthy and unhinged. Get rid of her, Edward. Throw her back into the streets."

The head housekeeper steps forward nervously, bowing his head. "Luna Maria, she works for half the wages of the others, and she doesn't speak unless spoken to—"

"I don't care!" Maria growls, stepping closer to the banister, her eyes burning into mine with an irrational, bitter hatred. "Look at her eyes! There is something wrong with her. Send her away!"

My heart hammers a slow, steady rhythm against my ribs. I keep my chin tucked into my chest, letting a tear of fake fear slide down my dirt-smudged cheek.

"She stays," Edward commands.

His voice is deep, heavy, and unyielding—a full Alpha order that vibrates through the very timber of the floorboards.

Maria turns to him, her face twisting in shock. "Edward, are you serious? She's just a dirty street rat—"

"I said she stays," Edward repeats, his eyes never leaving my face as he slowly descends the first three steps of the staircase. "She will clean the upper floor. Starting with my private study."

Maria glares at him, her chest heaving with silent rage, but she knows better than to challenge a direct command in front of the staff. She huffs, spinning on her heel and marching back toward her bedchamber, her silk skirt rustling violently against the wood.

I remain standing at the bottom of the stairs, keeping my head bowed in deep reverence as Edward walks past me, his heavy scent of cedar and rain lingering in the air.

Underneath the rags of Maya the street orphan, a dark, victorious smile spreads across my lips.

Eighteen years ago, they destroyed my past. They stole my father, my pack, my title, and my life. But today, they opened the door and invited the ghost right into their bedroom.

Now, I'm going to dismantle their future—piece by bloody piece.