CHAPTER THREE

A New Life, A New Chance

Sophia Pov

My body felt heavy, waterlogged, and cold. A strange, detached sensation, as if I were floating in a suffocating darkness. I’d been waiting for the torment to begin; the last thing I remembered was his horrified face as I bled out on his floor, a curse on my lips.

My life had been extinguished by his hand, the last echoes of my voice a promise of vengeance. But why wasn't I a ghost? Why wasn't I already a vengeful spirit, already haunting his every moment? The void was not filled with the familiar cold of the grave or the fiery wrath of a vengeful soul. It was just a strange, quiet emptiness.

A voice pierced the void, gentle and frantic. “My lady! Oh, my lady, you are awake!”

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were heavy, weighed down by an exhaustion that seemed to predate my death. A soft, warm hand stroked my forehead, a touch so foreign, so kind, that a shudder ran through me. In my last life, hands only brought pain, a harsh shove, a strong grip. A soft, wet cloth was pressed against my face, and the cold shock of it made my eyes fly open.

The world swam into focus, a dazzling, terrifying blur of light and color. A woman with kind, tear-filled brown eyes looked down at me. She was not like the maids in the Lycan King's castle; her face held no disgust or hatred. “Thank the Goddess! Thank the Goddess you are safe!” she cried, relief flooding her features.

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw, parched. A hoarse croak escaped. I felt the smooth, cool fabric of a silk sheet against my skin, and the feeling was so overwhelming, I could feel the ghost of a shiver down my spine. The room was immense, filled with sunlight that poured through a massive window. The scent of roses and lilac filled the air, a difference to the stench of blood and iron I had become so accustomed to.

My mind raced, pieces of scattered, panicked thoughts. What was this? I died. I knew I did. The last breath I had was one of pure, venomous hatred. My curse…

The woman leaned over me. “You have no idea how much you scared us, my lady,” she said, her voice trembling. “To run to the lake… to drown yourself over a marriage… a betrothal that brings you more power than any other Lycan!”

The words hit me like a physical blow, each one a foreign, impossible concept. Drowning? The word hung in the air. My death had been a brutal, agonizing affair, not a peaceful surrender to the water. Marriage? My last marriage was a hell I’d rather not remember, a union to a man who sold me into slavery. And what was this talk of Luna and power? I was a low-born human girl from a simple family. This was a nightmare. This was a lie.

“What happened?” I whispered, my voice raspy. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Elara’s eyes widened. “My lady? Are you alright? It’s me, Elara. We are in your chambers, in your father’s estate. You… you tried to drown yourself this morning. Don’t you remember?”

A wave of dizziness washed over me, a nauseous swirl of confusion. My father’s estate? My parents died in a fire. My home was a pile of ash and death, nothing more. How could I be here? How could I be alive now, in this beautiful room, with this kind woman? I was human. I knew this for a fact. Humans and hybrids may have a rebirth cycle, but a low-born human girl from a simple family? This was impossible. It had never happened. I was a glitch in the universe.

I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “I… I remember dying,” I said, the words a desperate confession, a plea for someone to validate my reality. “A man… he killed me.”

Elara’s face paled, and she stared at me in terror. “My lady! Please, don’t say such things! It’s a bad omen! You were merely… upset. You simply did not want to marry a man you’d never met.” She glanced around the room, as if afraid someone might overhear. “It’s a powerful, but difficult match. Your family will become the most influential in the kingdom.”

My mind was a whirlwind of panic. My heart pounded against my ribs. My hands, which I now saw were slender and pale, not rough and scarred as I remembered, trembled uncontrollably. The last thing I had experienced was a brutal death, and now I was a noblewoman who had tried to drown herself over an arranged marriage? My mind couldn't make sense of any of it. My past life, my present, this strange woman... it was all a chaotic, terrifying mess. A sick joke. A new form of torture.

“Who is the man?” I asked again, my voice a shaky whisper. The words felt foreign in my mouth. “Tell me his name.”

Elara looked at me, a worried frown on her face. “My lady, you have been acting so strangely. He is the most powerful man in the kingdom. The Lycan…”

A heavy thud from the hallway cut her off. The sound was loud in the peaceful room. The door swung open, and a tall man entered. He carried a powerful, imposing presence, his face strong and authoritative. But it was his blue eyes, holding a cold, calculating look. He was wearing a rich robe meant for nobles, and from the way he carried himself, I could already tell he was my new father. His expression was one of utter relief.

“My daughter,” he said, his voice a sigh of profound gratitude. “Thank the Goddess, you are safe. What a reckless, foolish thing to do. The Lycan King is on his way. He will be here in a week’s time to claim you as his wife!”

The air was sucked from my lungs, leaving me hollow and empty. My blood ran cold, a glacial current in my veins. My heart, which had been beating so frantically a moment ago, now felt like a frozen stone. The Lycan King. The name echoed in my mind. A shiver ran through my hands, which were so slick with blood in my last life. I felt the memory of his golden eyes, filled with disgust and then... horror. The last thing I saw was his face and the last thing I heard was his name, the name I cursed with my dying breath.

Elara was talking, her voice a distant, muffled hum. My new father was speaking too, his voice booming with frustration and relief. But I couldn't hear them. It was as if my ears had been plugged with cotton. I was in the room, but I was not of the room. I was back in the cold, bloody castle, back in his room, dying on the floor. I was a ghost in this new body, my soul trapped in a beautiful cage. My mind was a shattered glass, the pieces of my past and present life scattered and impossible to put back together. This was not a second chance. This was a continuation of the same cruel joke.

The irony was a bitter taste on my tongue. He took my child and my life. And now? I was destined to marry him. I was bound to him not by love, but by the very curse I laid upon him. I had promised to torment him. And the universe, in its sick, twisted sense of humor, had given me the most powerful weapon. My very presence.

I stood up from the bed. My knees were weak, but I forced myself to be steady. I could feel the eyes of Elara and my father on me. They saw a young woman who had gone mad with grief and shock. They had no idea. My lips parted, but the words were stuck. The shock was so overwhelming, I was in a state of pure numbness.

What am I? From the little I can gather right now, it is certain I'm not a human, but what am I?

I don't fully understand what is happening here, or why. But one thing is terrifyingly, horribly certain: The Lycan King is on his way to make me his bride. He is the man I am going to marry. The man who is the father of my baby. The man whom I cursed with my last breath.

And I won't let this new life go to waste. I will not be a victim this time.

I will make sure I destroy him.