2. The Life I shouldn't have

#Livia’s POV 

Darkness should have lasted forever instead I woke with a violent gasp. Air rushed into my lungs so sharply that my chest burned. I lurched upright, clawing at my throat, expecting to feel warm blood pouring over my fingers.

But to my surprise, there was no blood. I looked around and found no wound, no silver chains and no execution platform. Only the soft familiar scent of lavender and cedar lingering in the air. 

I froze, my chest heaving as my heart pounded wildly against my ribs. I stared at the room around me. The carved oak wardrobe standing in the corner. The cream-colored linen curtains fluttered in the gentle morning breeze. The narrow bookshelf my father had built with his own hands especially for me. The faded blue rug resting beside my bed.

“No..” The words scraped out of my throat, barely a whisper. “This can't be….”

I threw back the blanket and stumbled toward the full-length mirror near the window. The woman staring back at me wasn't the broken ,hollowed-out Luna who had been executed. Her skin was smooth, pale, and entirely unmarked. The faint, jagged line on her chin - the scar I had carried since the night I pulled Asher from a pack of rogue wolves in the thorn thickets was gone.

My trembling fingers reached out, brushing against the cold surface of the glass. “I'm…alive.”

The words refused to leave my lips. My knees buckled. I slid down onto the cold wooden floor, my breathing coming in short, hitches as the weight of the last hour crashed over me. The executioner’s blade. Alpha Asher’s empty and unforgiving eyes. The crowd cheering for my death and then suddenly that soft voice whispering against my ear before the dark took me :

“Wake up, little wolf….but don't trust the memories you wake up with.”

A shiver ran down my spine recalling everything. Don't trust the memories you wake with.

What did that mean ? The memories I woke up with? Every memory I had was mine. Wasn't it? The years of studying medicinal herbs under my mother. The cold winter nights spent in the boundary cabins. The day Asher held my face between his hands and promised me forever. They were written into my bones.

A knock at the door startled me, jolting me out of my thoughts. 

“My Lady ?”

The familiar voice made my heart skip a beat. It was the voice of our housekeeper, Mira. 

My throat tightened. Mira had died seven months ago before my execution during a rogue attack. I had sewn her shroud myself. 

Slowly, I pulled myself up from the floor and turned toward the latch. “I'm… awake.”

The heavy door opened revealing a smiling Mira carrying a silver tray with a steaming porcelain teapot and freshly baked bread.  

“Good morning, Lady Livia.”

Her warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled but the moment her gaze fell on me, her expression shifted into concern. 

“Oh! Dear.” she murdered, setting the tray down onto the small table by the hearth before rushing to my side. “You look like you've seen a ghost. You are as pale as snow.”

If only she knew. 

I forced a tight smile, smoothing down the front of my nightgown with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. “I..I just had a terrible dream.”

“Well, today isn't the day for nightmares.” Mira chuckled softly, reaching out to pat my shoulder. “His Grace will be arriving before noon .”

My blood ran cold. “...Who?”

“The future Alpha, of course.” Mira said, giving me a playful, scolding look. “ Surely, you haven't forgotten the delegation?”

Future Alpha? That didn't make sense. Asher and I had already been mated for three years when Alpha Magnus died. We had taken our vows in front of the high altar. Why would she refer to him as….

A sudden, blinding pain shot behind my eyes so sharp as I squeezed them shut tightly and I had to press my knuckles against my temple to keep from crying out.

An image flashed in my mind - not a dream but a memory clear and vivid of a grand ballroom filled with music and golden candlelight where Asher was slipping a moonstone ring onto my finger while our father raised their glasses.

Then ,like smoke caught in a gust of wind, the image flickered and tore apart.

The ballroom vanished and in its place stood an unfamiliar cold and overgrown garden shrouded in twilight. Someone else's hand wore the same ring.

I gasped, staggering back a step as the vision snapped shut, leaving my head throbbing with a dull, sickening ache.

“Lady Livia ?” Mira placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her forehead creased with worry. “Are you feeling faint? Should I call the elder healer?”

“No.” I managed to say, blinking rapidly as I tried to untangle the knotted threads in my mind. “No..I'm fine.”

Why couldn't I remember our engagement clearly ? I knew how Asher had proposed to me. I remember the warmth of his breath against my ear, the weight of the ring, the taste of his lips. So where did that second image come from ? Then why had another memory appeared ?

One that didn't belong to me ?

My stomach twisted as a cold knot settled inside it recalling the whisper.

“Don't trust the memories you wake up with.”

My finger tightened around the edge of the dressing table until my knuckles turned white. Was someone tampering with my mind ? Was my head broken from the silver blade ?

That was impossible yet everything already felt wrong.

“You still have plenty of time to dress before the Black Moon Delegation passes through the outer gates.” Mira reassured me, moving toward the wardrobe to pull out a heavy green velvet gown.

My breath caught. Delegation ? Not my engagement banquet ?

Had I returned to a different day ? My eyes darted to the calendar hanging beside the stone hearth. The marker rested on the twenty- third day of the Frost Moon. Exactly one year before my execution. 

I frowned as that wasn't right either. I swallowed hard trying to reconcile the dates. According to everything I remembered, Asher hadn't come to our pack on the twenty -third. He was supposed to arrive three days later.

A loud horn echoed outside the estate, jolting me out of my thoughts while Mira gasped, dropping the gown onto the bed as she rushed towards the window. 

“They're early!” She beamed excitedly. “The Alpha’s guard is already entering the courtyard!”

Nothing was aligning. The dates, the events, the memories in my head - they were shifting like loose sand beneath my feet. If the past was already changing, how was I supposed to predict what came next ? How was I supposed to stop the executioner’s blade from falling a second time?

I walked slowly toward the window and watched black banners bearing the silver crest of the wolf whipped wildly in the wind .A dozen mounted warriors entered the courtyard, their horse's hooves kicking up bits of slush. And at the head of the column rode Alpha Asher. 

He looked younger. His shoulders lacked the crushing weight of the Alpha’s mantle and his sharp features were free of the dark circles that had hollowed his eyes in the months before his father's death. He looked whole. He looked like the man I had given my heart to. The sight stole the air from my lungs. 

And suddenly for one terrible moment, I wasn't standing safely inside my childhood home, the green courtyard vanished. I was standing back on the execution platform, kneeling in the dirt, feeling his cold gaze as his voice echoed inside my head.

“The sentence is death.”

My body reacted before my thoughts could stop it. I stumbled backward, my shoulder catching the porcelain vase resting on the windowsill. It crashed to the floor, shattering into dozens of sharp white shards across the rugs and wood.

Mira spun around, clutching her chest. “My lady!” She gasped.

“I..I'm fine.” I breathed out, though my voice sounded hollow. “It was an accident.”

While outside, Alpha Asher dismounted with smooth, effortless grace. A stable master stepped forward to take the reins of his warhorse, and Asher gave the old man a short and respectful nod - a small quiet gesture of kindness that felt entirely natural to him.

Looking at him now, it seemed impossible that this same man would one day stand silently while a crowd threw stones at me. It seemed impossible that he would watch a blade descend on my neck without blinking.

Which version of him was real ? The honorable prince standing in my father's courtyard or the cold monster who had signed my death warrant ?

As if drawn by the force of my thoughts, Asher paused. He didn't turn to talk to his Beta. He didn't take a step toward the main hall. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his head and looked up at the third story window.

 His golden eyes directly locked into mine and time seemed to stop as the distance collapsed between us. The noise of the courtyard faded away.

A strange pressure tightened around my chest while his brows drew together slightly and confusion flickered across his face.He didn't look at me like a stranger. He looked at me with an intense haunting familiarity like a man staring at a ghost he had tried desperately to forget.

He knew me already. No…..It felt as though he recognized something he couldn't explain.

A servant approached him from behind, leaning in to whisper something to his ears but Asher didn't turn around. His eyes still never left mine then slowly he raised his one hand toward his chest, his fingers clutching at the heavy wool of his cloak right over his heart as if unconsciously reaching toward someone he had lost.

At the exact moment, a sharp ,violent wave of pressure exploded behind my forehead, flashing me another memory of Asher kneeling on the cold stone, his clothes soaked in fresh blood, his hands clutching a lifeless body as he let out a sound so broken it shattered the silence around him.

“No..”I whispered. “That didn't happen. He wasn't the one weeping.”

Or…..Was he ?

Heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor outside my room, followed by three quick , firm knocks against my door.

“Livia,” My father's voice echoed with urgency. “The Future Alpha has asked to speak with you in the lower study before the council convenes.”

I didn't break my stare. Down in the courtyard, Asher was still looking at me, waiting, his expression torn between cold restraint and a deep, terrifying recognition.

My breath hitched in my chest. If he remembered nothing…Why did he look at me as though we'd already shared a lifetime ?