Chapter 1: Reborn

Goddess, no!

As my vision darkened, I vowed that if I met them again in another life, I would see to it that they pay. With the last ounce of energy and will that I had, I wished I could've lived my life differently.

"You have been given the privilege of a second life, a second chance, Melody!"

A voice was faintly echoing through the void as I felt my lifeless body suspended in a cold place, fully engulfed by darkness.

Splash!

I awoke with a gasp, choking, as water flooded my nose and dripped down my forehead. Panting, I frantically looked around.

"Oh my! Finally, she's up," a familiar voice cooed.

My stepmother stood beside my bed, a glass jar in one hand and her signature black fixed-hand fan in the other, partially concealing her face while her deep brown eyes gleamed with feigned concern.

I barely had time to react before she forced the jar into my personal maid Mary's hands and pulled me into an embrace, pressing my face into her perfumed chest. My cheeks squished uncomfortably as she rubbed hers against my hair.

"I was so worried about you, darling. For a moment, I feared you had died," she said, her exceptionally beautiful voice like the songs of sirens, deceitful and hypnotic.

I pulled back slightly, still breathless. "I thought I died too."

My eyes darted around my room. I was still living in the Madison palace. Everything seemed so normal, with Agatha still pretending to be a caring mother. But what kind of 'caring' mother woke her daughter by nearly drowning her?

I scrambled out of bed, ignoring Agatha's continued fawning, and raced to the full-length mirror in my closet room. My breath hitched as I stared back at my reflection. I looked. young. My twenty-year-old self stared back at me.

Frantically, I tore my upper garments off, eyes locking onto one large wound on my chest. The exact place where Jay had plunged his silver-coated venomous sword. My fingers brushed over the barely healed mark, shaking wildly.

After that, I died.

So, how was I here?

Was this the afterlife? If so, where was the Goddess? Why was I in my bed? Had I survived somehow?

"You fainted without warning while we were walking in the back garden. You fell into a bush. Forgive me, please; I failed to catch you," Mary whimpered, snuffling as she wept.

"Doctor Evelyn…" My voice shook as I swung around to my bed and sat. "How can I still be here? I should be dead!

Mary gasped, scandalized. "Miss Melody!"

That title now felt foreign. On the day I mated with Jay, I had ceased being ‘Miss Melody’ and become ‘Luna Melody.’

Doctor Evelyn pursed her lips as she adjusted her glasses. "Only the most unfortunate souls die from falling into a rose bush, Miss. You suffered mild scratches, but be assured, your injuries will heal before your engagement ceremony in one week."

Her words fell on deaf ears: engagement in a week's time? A heavy numbness enveloped me.

Agatha turned to Doctor Evelyn. "Have some tea while Melody rests."

I lifted my hand to examine the scratches as they left the room.

"Miss, your wrists-what happened to them?!" Mary's voice was laced with horror as she gripped my hands.

My breath hiccuped. Ugly white scars marred my wrists. Not fresh wounds, not red, but totally healed-over scars. The memory of how silver chains had bound me, searing into my skin, flashed into my head. I jerked my hands away, my heart racing.

Then Mary called Dr. Evelyn, and moments later, Dr. Eve stepped back into my room.

Doctor Evelyn hesitated. "I. I am not quite sure. It looks like .these are similars to injuries sustained from the silver handcuffs."

Mary's face blanched. "Silver handcuffs? No! That’s impossible!"

Dr. Evelyn mopped her brow. "I may be mistaken. Only criminals bear such scars. How could it be on the lady?

I clenched my fists. But if this were a dream, then why did it feel so real? If I had died, then why was I here, reliving my past?

"Perhaps an allergic reaction from falling into the rose bush?" Evelyn contributed weakly.

I met her gaze. "Can injuries from silver poisoning heal completely?"

The room was silent.

Dr. Evelyn hesitated before shaking her head. "No. Such injuries last a lifetime. There’s even an old saying."

"What are you saying?" I pressed.

Her expression tensed. "They say that these scars can be reborn into people."

A cold thrill ran down my veins.

Doctor Evelyn gave a nervous titter. "But that's just nonsense rumor milling among wolves."

I inhaled sharply, eyes at my wrists. "What day is it today?

She responded, "Today's date is March 3rd, 2025."

Two years.

Exactly two years and five days before my death and one week before my engagement ceremony to Jay. A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I turned, my breath catching in my throat as Jay stepped into my room. Whereas earlier his eyes had turned cold as he began to drift away from me to Samantha, they were now warm—filled with concern as they rested on me. I swallowed hard. He took one step closer to me, his arms reaching out in a manner that suggested he would pull me into his arms. But I quickly moved away, sidestepping him so he wouldn't be able to touch me. My body tensed, a surge of anger tightening my chest. I couldn't bear to look upon him, let alone consider the possibility of being held by him. His face contorted in surprise, and he stumbled backward, his hands falling uselessly to his sides. “What are you doing? ” he asked, his voice tinged with hurt, as if he had any right to feel wounded. A sharp voice cut through the air before I could answer. "What is happening here?" My stepmother and Jay's mother, Agatha, hurried up to us with her face filled with alarm and incredulity. Her beady eyes blinked from Jay to me for answers. I bunched my fists, swallowing down the bitter words rising up in my throat; no one knew how much I hated him, the weight of betrayal simmering beneath my skin.