Chapter 2

My ceiling. My old water stain. My bedroom that still smelled like cedar and the lavender sachet Mia made me for my sixteenth birthday.

I was wearing a cotton nightgown. The pale blue one with the frayed hem. My feet were bare. No rope marks on my wrists. No salt drying in the creases of my palms.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. The date glowed back at me, and my heart slammed so hard I felt it in my teeth.

Three weeks before the wedding. The invitations had already gone out. I remembered this day. This was the night we celebrated the finalized guest list. Derek had brought champagne. Everyone had toasted.

In my past life, I'd been so happy that night I'd cried.

My wolf stirred, warm and present in a way she hadn't been in years. Not since I'd chosen Derek over everything the Moon Goddess intended for me.

She saw it all, my wolf said. The Moon Goddess watched what happened to us. She's giving us another chance. Follow the path fate laid out for you.

Follow fate. I turned the words over in my mind. What did that mean? What path?

Before I could think further, a knock came at my door.

"Selene?" Mia's voice. Light, cheerful. "Dinner's ready. Everyone's waiting downstairs. Come on, you're the guest of honor tonight!"

I opened the door, and there she was. Fifteen years old with our mother's brown eyes and that ridiculous braid she insisted on wearing to the side. Alive. Safe. Completely unaware that in another timeline, she'd be alone against wolves who would kill her for an inheritance.

I pulled her into my arms so hard she squeaked.

"Ow — okay, what — Selene, are you crying?"

I was. I pressed my face against her hair and held on. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and the mint gum she was always chewing.

"I'm fine," I said. "I just love you. I really love you."

Mia laughed, patting my back awkwardly. "I love you too, you weirdo. Are you this emotional because of the wedding stuff? It's okay to be nervous."

I pulled back and wiped my face. "Something like that."

She grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the stairs. "Come on. Derek brought that fancy wine again and Dad's already opened it."

Derek.

The name hit my stomach. I took a deep breath.

I would not let him see me flinch. Not tonight. Not ever again.

I changed quickly. A simple black dress, flat shoes, hair pulled back.

No effort for him. Not anymore.

Downstairs, the dining room was warm and golden. Candles on the table, white flowers in the center. My father Marcus sat at the head in his usual gray sweater, looking pleased. Claudia was beside him in a cream blouse, her smile painted on. Vera sat across from her in a soft pink dress, hands folded neatly in her lap.

And Derek.

He stood when he saw me. Navy shirt, sleeves rolled up, that easy smile that used to make me feel chosen. He crossed the room and reached for my hand.

"There she is," he said warmly. "My beautiful bride-to-be."

His fingers closed around mine.

My skin crawled.

I pulled my hand free. I yanked it back like I'd touched something rotting.

Derek's smile faltered. Just a flicker, half a second. Then it was back, broader than before.

"Everything okay?" he asked. Light. Casual.

I didn't answer. I walked past him to my seat.

Behind me, I felt the shift. Derek glanced at Vera. Vera's eyes found Claudia. Claudia's painted smile tightened at the corners.

Three seconds. That's all it took for them to have a whole conversation, and they thought I couldn't see it.

In my past life, I'd never noticed. Now it was so obvious it made my jaw ache.

Dinner started. Roast lamb, potatoes, wine that Derek poured with a steady hand. He raised his glass first.

"To Selene," he said, looking at me with those warm brown eyes. "Who had the courage to reject her fated mate in front of half the territory — just to be with me. I'm the luckiest man alive."

Around the table, glasses lifted. Marcus nodded approvingly. Claudia murmured something polite. Even the server standing by the sideboard smiled.

My stomach turned.

He was toasting it. He was proud. The single worst decision I'd ever made, the one that isolated me from the Moon Goddess's plan, that handed me straight to him. And he was raising a glass to it.

I remembered his voice on the boat. Dead wives don't file for divorce.

I set my wine down without drinking. The glass clinked against the table louder than I intended.

"Selene?" Mia said beside me, her hand finding my arm. "Are you okay? You look pale."

I didn't look at her. I was watching Derek. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The way his thumb rubbed the stem of his glass, slow and self-satisfied. The way Vera glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, just for a half-second, before dropping her gaze back to her plate.

In my past life, that glance would have meant nothing. Now I could see the whole history in it. The intimacy. The secret language of two people who shared a bed.

I thought of Mia sleeping upstairs, fifteen and oblivious. I thought of the words we'll deal with Mia when the time comes. That casual shrug.

Something cold and clean settled inside my chest. Not rage. Rage would be messy, loud.

This was quieter. Sharper.

"I'm not marrying you," I said.

The table went silent. Derek's glass stopped halfway to his mouth. Marcus's fork clattered against his plate.

Even the servants paused.

"I'm calling off the wedding," I said. "All of it. The invitations need to be canceled. Tonight."

Mia's hand found my knee under the table. She squeezed once. Confused, but present.

Derek set his glass down slowly. His smile didn't waver, but something shifted behind his eyes. Calculation.

"Sweetheart," he said. "Let's not—"

"I said no." My voice was steady. "No wedding. No marriage. It's over."

No one moved. No one breathed.