REBORN 90 DAYS BEFORE THE BLOOD MOON: I REJECTED MY ALPHA AN

POV: Lyra Mooncrest

I woke up with my lungs burning, tasting frozen blood and snow on my tongue before I even opened my eyes.

My hands flew to my throat. I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like someone had driven an iron spike straight through my ribs, pinning me to the floor. I remembered the cold. God, I remembered the screaming wind, the ice cracking under my skin, and the way the freeze settled into my bones until my heart stopped beating.

I waited for the dark. I waited for the total silence of dying alone in a blizzard outside a locked door.

Instead, warm sunlight hit my face.

I gasped, sitting up so fast my head spun. My knees hit a blanket. A real, soft blanket. I pulled my hands away from my throat and stared down at them. No frostbite. No black, dead skin. No cracked fingernails bleeding into the snow. My skin was smooth, warm, and completely unblemished.

I looked around the room. It was tiny. The small wooden bed, the narrow wardrobe, the desk piled high with ledger papers and logistics files. The modest bedroom inside the Sun Valley Pack living quarters.

"No," I whispered. My voice sounded thin, raspy, but alive. "No, this isn't real."

I swung my legs out of bed and rushed to the desk. My feet were bare against the wooden floorboards, but they weren't freezing. I grabbed the paper calendar sitting next to my ink pen.

October 12th.

My thumb dug into the paper until it tore. October 12th. Ninety days. I was ninety days away from the Blood Moon. Ninety days before the sky turned red, the temperature dropped to eighty below zero, and the apocalyptic monsters came out of the wild.

I had come back.

A sharp sob ripped out of my throat, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to quiet myself. Tears burned my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. Six years. I had spent six years running the logistics for this entire pack. I managed their food supplies, organized their patrol shifts, fixed their trade deals, and built their defense strategies. I gave up my sleep, my health, and my entire life to make sure Sun Valley survived.

And how did Alpha Alaric reward me?

When the apocalypse hit and the first blizzard tore through the valley, he locked the central underground bunker from the inside. He left me standing outside in the killing freeze.

I could still hear his voice through the heavy steel speaker.

“The heating units are at low capacity, Lyra,” he had said, his tone flat and cold. “Thalia is delicate. She needs extra blankets and heated quarters. If we let you in, the system will overload. You’re strong. You’ll find another place to shelter.”

Thalia, his childhood sweetheart. A girl who had never worked a single hour for the pack, who cried if her soup was too cold, gets to sit by the fire while I froze to death against the bunker door. I had pounded on that metal until my knuckles broke, screaming for him to open up. He never did. I died listening to Thalia complaining inside about the noise I was making.

"Never again," I choked out, wiping the wetness from my face with the back of my hand. My body trembled, but the horrifying trauma was rapidly giving way to a cold, hard stone in my chest. "I will never die for you again, Alaric."

I leaned over the desk, grabbing my notebook to look at my stock reports. I needed to see how much grain, medicine, and firewood we had stored right now. If I was going to survive the apocalypse on my own, I needed to steal back every single resource I had built for these backstabbers and stash it somewhere safe.

I flipped the page, staring at my hand-written notes.

Bunker Supply List – Storage Unit 4.

My breath hitched. Storage Unit 4. Where was Storage Unit 4? I stared at the words, but my brain felt foggy.

I remembered the betrayal clearly. I remembered Alaric’s cold eyes, Thalia’s fake tears, the freezing cold, and the sound of the dead howling in the snow. But when I tried to pin down the exact dates of the supply shipments, my head began to throb with a sharp, dull ache.

"Wait," I muttered, pressing two fingers to my temple. "The first blizzard... it started on January 10th. Or was it January 15th?"

I looked down at the windowsill. A pot of small red flowers sat in the corner. The leaves were already dry, yellowed, and covered in a thin, powdery white frost.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

Frost in October?

In my past life, October was warm. The first frost didn't show up until late November. Why were the plants freezing right now?

"The weather," I breathed, panic clawing at my throat. "It's changing faster."

My memory wasn't completely intact. The major events were burned into my soul, but the exact timeline was shifting. The environment was collapsing earlier than it did before. I didn't have ninety days. I might not even have sixty. My preparation window was shrinking right in front of my eyes.

Heavy boot footsteps marched down the hallway, and a sharp, demanding knock rattled my wooden door, making the frame shudder.

"Lyra! Open this door right now!"

Alaric’s arrogant, commanding voice echoed through the wood, sending a violent chill straight down my spine.

I froze, my hand clutching the edge of the desk so tight my knuckles turned white. Just hearing his voice made the phantom pain in my chest burn all over again.

"Lyra!" Alaric shouted again, hitting the door with the palm of his hand. "I know you're awake! Stop wasting time and get out here!"

I forced my breathing to slow down. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shoved the fear deep down into my gut. I wasn't the desperate girl who begged him for mercy anymore.

I walked over to the door, unlocked the latch, and pulled it open.

Alaric stood in the doorway, dressed in his dark pack jacket. His hair was neat, his jaw set in a hard, impatient line. Behind him stood two pack guards, arms crossed, looking at me like I was an inconvenience.

"It took you long enough," Alaric said, stepping right into my personal space without asking. He didn't even look at my face. He just tossed a thick folder of papers onto my desk. "The northern border wall needs three extra patrol squads starting today. The heating pipes in the main hall are leaking again, and the food inventory report for the month is late. I need all of this finished before noon."

I looked at the folder on the desk, then slowly raised my eyes to look at him.

He looked so alive. So comfortable. He had no idea he was standing in front of the woman he murdered.

"Did you hear me, Lyra?" Alaric frowned, his voice dropping into a warning tone. "Why are you staring at me like that? Move."

"The food inventory isn't late," I said softly. My voice was steady, clearer than I expected. "It's due on the fifteenth."

Alaric let out an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes. "Thalia needs the main hall cleared out for her birthday gathering this afternoon. That means the heating pipes need to be fixed now so the hall stays warm for her guests. I don't care about your official schedule. Get it done."

Thalia's birthday.

Right. I remembered this day now. In my past life, I spent twelve hours straight crawling through dusty, icy maintenance tunnels fixing those pipes so Thalia and her friends could dance in a warm room. I ended up with a fever, and Thalia didn't even say thank you. She had complained that the pipes made too much noise while she was talking.

"No," I said.

Alaric stopped mid-turn. He blinked, turning his head back toward me as if he hadn't heard me right. "What did you just say?"

"I said no," I repeated, meeting his eyes head-on. "Fix the pipes yourself. Or hire a technician. I'm not crawling under the main hall today."

The two guards behind Alaric shifted uncomfortably, exchanging quick, surprised looks. Nobody talked to the Alpha like that. I had never talked to him like that.

Alaric’s face darkened, his brow furrowing in deep anger. "Are you out of your mind, Lyra? It's a simple repair job. You've done it ten times before. Thalia's guests will be here in three hours."

"Then Thalia can put on a sweater," I replied flatly.

Alaric took a step closer, his eyes flashing with sudden heat. "She is delicate! You know her lungs can't handle the chill! What is wrong with you today? Why are you being so selfish over a small request?"

Selfish. The word almost made me laugh out loud. I had worked myself to the bone for his pack for six years, and the first time I said no, I was 'selfish.'

"If her lungs are so delicate, keep her inside her own room," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "I have my own work to do."

"Your work is whatever I tell you it is!" Alaric snapped, his voice booming down the quiet hallway. "You are the pack logistics coordinator because I allow you to be! Don't forget who gives you a roof over your head, Lyra!"

"I earned this roof ten times over," I said, leaning in slightly, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And if you check the pack ledger, you'll see I haven't taken a single day of pay in three months because you claimed the pack funds were tight. So don't talk to me about charity, Alaric."

Alaric opened his mouth to shout, but he froze, stunned by the cold, biting authority in my voice. He searched my face, looking for the usual eager-to-please girl who would jump at his every command. He didn't find her.

"Fine," Alaric hissed through his teeth, pointing a finger at my face. "We will talk about your attitude later tonight. Right now, hand over the keys to the central storage shed. Thalia needs the extra silk banners and heaters stored in the back."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The central storage shed.

That was where the first stash of non-perishable food, winter coats, and medical kits were kept. In my past life, Thalia used those extra heaters for her party and broke them, wasting precious equipment we needed when the freeze hit.

"The central storage shed is locked for inventory count," I said smoothly, lying straight to his face. "The keys are with the supply manager at the outer gate."

"Then go get them," Alaric ordered.

"Get them yourself," I said, stepping back into my room and grabbing the door handle. "I'm busy."

Before he could reach out to stop me, I slammed the door shut right in his face.

I locked the bolt.

"Lyra!" Alaric roared from the other side, pounding his fist against the wood. "Open this door right now! You are pushing your luck!"

I didn't answer. I backed away from the door, my heart pounding wild and fast against my chest, but for the first time in two lives, I felt a spark of pure, uncut control.

He could scream all he wanted. The storm was coming, and this time, I was going to make sure I was the one holding the keys to the bunker.