Chapter 2: I Was Back

Sylvia's POV

The red wine hit his white shirt like a bloodstain.

The whole room went silent. Damian stared at the dark red spreading across his chest, then at me. The wine glass rolled off the table and shattered on the marble floor.

"Sylvia?" Dad half-rose from his chair, brow furrowed. "What happened? Are you alright?"

I crossed the distance between us in three steps and threw my arms around him. He smelled like cedar cologne and wool. The same way he'd always smelled. Solid. Warm. Real.

"Dad." My voice cracked. "I missed you so much."

He went still for a moment, confused. Then his arms came around me, and he patted my back the way he'd done when I was small. "I'm right here, sweetheart. I've been right here all evening."

I saw the calendar on the wall and finally knew for sure: I had been reborn. I was back on my twenty-third birthday — three years before my death.

The room slowly came back to life. Uncertain laughter, the clink of someone picking up broken glass. I pulled back and wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand.

This was real. I was back.

Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Leona. My stepmother had crossed to Damian's side, pressing a silk handkerchief against his chest.

Her fingers lingered on the wet fabric, smoothing it over his collarbone with slow, deliberate strokes. She looked up at him through her lashes and murmured something too low for anyone else to hear. He tilted his head toward her, and for a fraction of a second, his hand found the small of her back.

My stomach turned.

In my first life, I wouldn't have noticed. Blind love made me look the other way. His perfect act kept me from looking at all. So I missed what was happening right under my nose. But now I saw the whole performance. The way her thumb circled against his chest. The way his jaw relaxed when she touched him.

They were already sleeping together.

I put on a sheepish face. "Sorry about that," I said, turning back to the party with a sheepish smile. "I think the wine went to my head. You all know how I get."

A few people laughed. Damian watched me, his expression carefully neutral. "You sure you're okay, baby?"

The pet name scraped against my skin like sandpaper.

"I'm fine." I looked at my father. "Actually, Dad — I've been thinking. About the Pack. About everything you've been handling on your own." I straightened my shoulders. "I want to help. Properly. Starting tomorrow."

The conversation around us dropped.

My father blinked. In all these years of being in love with Damian, I'd never once expressed interest in Moonriver's operations. I'd handed everything over. Our resources, our connections, even my father's time. All of it poured into building Ironclaw.

"That's... unexpected," Dad said carefully. "But welcome."

Damian stepped forward, still pressing Leona's handkerchief against his shirt. "Sylvia, there's no need to trouble yourself. Our wedding is only thirty days away. Once the Packs merge, I can handle all of Moonriver's—"

"I said I'll help my father." My voice came out harder than I intended. I softened it with a smile. "It's the least I can do. I should have done this a long time ago."

Leona tilted her head, the picture of motherly concern. "That's very admirable, sweetheart. But Pack management is complicated. Maybe you should ease into things and let Damian take point while you—"

"I appreciate the thought, Leona." I held her gaze just long enough for the words to land. "But I've already made up my mind."

Something flickered behind her eyes.

I turned back to the room. "From today, I'm stepping up as Alpha Daughter of Moonriver. For real this time."

Damian's smile didn't waver, but his fingers curled into his napkin under the table. He could afford to wait. In his mind, the merger would hand him everything in thirty days anyway.

We'd see about that.

After the guests left, I found my father in his study.

He looked tired. Not old. He was still a handsome man, strong jaw, dark hair threaded with silver at the temples. But worn in a way that came from carrying too much alone. After my mother died, he'd raised me solo and run the Pack single-handed for over a decade. When he'd finally met Leona, he'd hesitated — worried I wouldn't accept a stepmother. I was the one who pushed him. Go for it, Dad. You deserve to be happy.

I'd handed him a viper and called it a gift.

"Dad." I sat across from him. "Is there a way to cancel the engagement? And void the fusion agreement?"

His coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Hypothetically."

He set the cup down. "Both were ratified by the Alpha Council. To reverse them without cause, we'd need to file a formal appeal. "

"If Damian hasn't committed a serious offense, the Council would deny it." He said. "And we'd be hit with a breach-of-contract penalty that could cripple us financially. On top of that, Moonriver's reputation would take the damage. People would say we don't keep our word."

My hands curled in my lap. No legal escape. Not yet.

"Did something happen between you two?" He leaned forward, searching my face.

I looked at the shadows under his eyes. I couldn't put this on him. Not until I had the ammunition to make it stick.

"No," I said. "Just curious."

He reached across the desk and squeezed my hand. His fingers were rougher than I remembered, the knuckles swollen from years of desk work and sleepless nights.

"If you ever need to tell me something," he said quietly, "I'm here. You know that."

I squeezed back. "I know, Dad."

He nodded, but his eyes stayed on me a moment too long. I stood up and kissed his forehead. "Get some rest, Dad."

I locked my bedroom door and stood by the window.

Thirty days. That was all I had before the wedding.

I wouldn't marry Damian. I would make Leona leave my father's life with nothing.

But I needed proof first. Hard, undeniable evidence that Damian and my stepmother were sleeping together. I'd collect it piece by piece, and on the day of the ceremony, in front of every Pack leader in attendance, I would destroy them both.

But my wolf was silent. Gone since I woke up. No presence, no instinct. Just emptiness where she should have been.

I couldn't fight Damian alone. Not without her. I needed an ally. Someone powerful enough that Damian couldn't touch, and motivated enough to want him brought down.

The TV in the corner was on, volume low. I almost ignored it. A news anchor's voice cut through my thoughts.

"—Alpha Azrael of Nightwhisper Pack, widely considered the frontrunner for the upcoming Alpha King election, delivered a keynote address today—"

I turned toward the screen. The camera showed a man at a podium. Tall, dark-haired. He made the room feel small. His blue eyes scanned the crowd with calm authority.

Azrael.

Damian's biggest rival.

In my first life, Azrael had been Alpha King. Elected easily, expected to hold the throne for decades. But three years in, he'd resigned without warning. No scandal, no explanation. Just gone. Damian had slid into the vacancy.

I never understood why. I still didn't.

But in this timeline, he was still on the Alpha Council. Still at the height of his power. And if anyone had both the resources and the motivation to help me take Damian down, it was him.

There was a high-profile auction tomorrow. Azrael would be there.

In my past life, I'd skipped the auction to fund Damian's bids instead. I'd handed him the capital that turned his mid-tier Pack into a powerhouse.

Not this time.

I picked up my phone and texted my father: Can you get me a seat at tomorrow's auction?  

His reply came thirty seconds later: Okay. Now I know you mean business. You've got this.

I replied: Thanks, Dad. Love you.

I set the phone down and pressed my hand to my chest. The wolf was gone. He wanted me dead. She was sleeping with him.

But I found the perfect ally. I won't let them have their way again.

Tomorrow, I would walk into a room with the most dangerous man in the werewolf world. And I would make him say yes.