She won't die twice

Freya’s POV

"Luna Freya, we have completed the nine days of mourning. It's time for the final rite… time to say goodbye to the deceased."

I nodded without rising.

Elder Darius approached, sighing softly. 

The council had sent him specifically to oversee this solemn duty.

The funeral of an Alpha.

Alpha Killian. My mate. My husband.

His coffin rested upon the Moonstone Altar. Preserved by herbs and spells, he looked almost as though he were merely sleeping, not gone forever.

I closed my eyes, and memory flooded in unbidden: me at twenty, him fresh from the frontier campaign, covered in blood and glory, kissing me for the first time at the victory banquet. 

Hot tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I wiped them away quickly and turned to Darius, signaling him to begin.

It was time to let him go.

Elder Darius raised his hands for the final sealing incantation.

I shut my eyes in prayer.

Goodbye Killian. If there is a next life, perhaps we…

BANG.

The sanctuary doors blasted open.

"Stop!" A voice tore through the sacred silence. "The Alpha's final wish must be obeyed!"

Through the swirling dust, a figure limped forward. Her armor was shredded, caked in dried mud and black blood. She looked less like a soldier and more like a corpse.

“Beta Vivian?” Elder Darius mumbled. “But we thought you perished alongside Alpha Killian…”

He voiced exactly what I was thinking.

Vivian Lorren was one of Killian’s most loyal betas and childhood friends. She’d followed him in battle, and when Killian fell, the Pack assumed she had fallen too. 

Why was she here now? How?

She didn't look at the crowd. Her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl. 

Then I noticed her belly, slightly protruding beneath the torn armor. My heart skipped a beat as a terrible thought flashed through my mind before I could grab it.

With a trembling hand, Vivian pulled out a scroll wrapped in blood-stained velvet. She thrust it toward the Elder, her chest heaving.

“Alpha wrote this moments before the end,” she rasped, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “Read it. The Pack must know the truth.”

Darius took the scroll. His old eyes widened as he scanned the frantic scrawl.

"It does carry the Alpha's scent..." He frowned, uncertainty flickering across his face.

“Read it!” Vivian screamed.

Darius cleared his throat, his voice projecting over the nervous murmurs. 

“My assets, my lands, and the title of Luna will be reserved for the mother of my child, Vivian Lorren…”

The world tilted. The drums in the room seemed to stop, replaced by the deafening roar of my own heartbeat.

A child?

My blood turned to ice.

“Lies,” I whispered, stumbling back. My legs struck the edge of the open coffin. “Killian wouldn’t… we were trying…”

“There is more,” Darius said, his voice dropping to a grim whisper. He looked at me with pity, then steeled himself. 

“Luna Freya has proven herself loyal and kind. She shall serve me in the underworld just as she did in life—”

The silence that followed was absolute.

“He… he wants me sacrificed?” I trembled, unable to process what I'd just heard.

That’s impossible! 

Adrenaline surged through me. "This must be fake! Give it to me!"

I lunged forward, snatching the scroll from Darius's hands. The parchment was cool to the touch.

What chilled me more was the handwriting.

Every upward hook at the end of each stroke. The pressure of every letter. We rarely corresponded, but I'd kept every message he'd ever sent me. I knew his hand so well I could trace it with my eyes closed.

This was my mate's handwriting.

"It is the Alpha's will!" Vivian shouted, tears streaming down her grime-streaked face as her hand moved protectively over her stomach. "He instructed me to bring this. I swear it on my life!"

The scroll slipped from my fingers. And everything after that happened fast like a silent film flickering at double speed.

“Take her,” an Elder murmured.

“Darius, look at me!” I screamed as rough hands seized my arms. “I have given ten years of my life to this pack! Does that mean nothing?”

Darius turned his back. “The heir is the priority, child. Go with dignity.”

Dignity?

I laughed then—a jagged, broken sound that scraped my throat. The fight drained out of me, replaced by a cold, paralyzing horror.

They didn't just drag me away. They dragged me down.

They shoved me into the obsidian casket, directly on top of Killian’s cold, stiff body. The scent of rot and old spice overwhelmed me, making me gag.

“No, no, please!” Panic, primal and violent, finally took over. I clawed at the velvet lining, my nails tearing against the stone rim. 

THUD.

The heavy lid slammed shut, severing the light.

The air was already thin, thick with the smell of death. I pounded on the lid, my screams reflecting back into my own ears, deafening and useless.

“Moon Goddess…” I scratched at the wood until my fingers bled, gasping for air that wasn't there. 

Then came the burning.

Silver. They'd lined the coffin with silver.

The pain was excruciating, searing through my skin, my bones, stealing even my ability to scream.

I am going to die in the dark. Alone with the man who hated me. 

For the first time in ten years, I stopped deceiving myself. 

Now I knew the truth—Killian Greymark hated me. 

He hated me so much that he'd cheated on me, gotten another woman pregnant, and wanted to drag me into death with him even after he was gone.

I heaved, trying to grasp any last bit of breath even though I could already feel death.

“Moon Goddess, please help me…” I begged with every fiber in my body as air slipped from my lungs. “I… don’t… want to die.”

****

“Freya!” 

A voice tore through the void.

My eyes flew open as I gasped for air.

Darkness still pressed around me, yet somehow warmer. 

My fingers curled instinctively, expecting dirt… a coffin lid… anything. 

But what I touched was heat. Skin. A slow rise and fall of breath brushing against my bare stomach.

I jerked and rolled onto my side—and every thought in my head shattered.

There was a man pressed against every inch of my bare skin. Chest to chest. Hip to hip. My legs tangled with his as though we’d collapsed after something messy.

Dark hair spilled across the pillow. Long lashes softened a face I’d memorized in life and seen again in death.

Killian. Breathing, live Killian! 

A scream tore from my throat. 

Terror surged through me and I shoved him away with all my strength.

Killian blinked awake, his hand closing firmly around mine, his brows furrowed. “What's wrong?” 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong?

I tried to scramble back, but my thighs brushed his, and he let out a low groan. My pulse thundered so violently I thought I might black out.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

I had just been buried alive. I was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be dead.

I lifted my hands, turning them over in the dim light filtering through the curtains. No scars from clawing at the coffin. No burns from the silver. Not even the binding mark on my wrist.

My mouth went dry.

Is it possible that I…

I swallowed hard as a chill crept up my neck.

Was I reborn?!

Killian flinched when I recoiled, his face registering genuine shock.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

Overwhelming emotion crashed over me—joy, terror, disbelief—leaving me no time to process. I grabbed at the sheets, trying to cover myself, trying to untangle my limbs from his even though my body felt clumsy and foreign.

If this was truly a second chance, then I had to leave before he sent me to my execution again!

Killian’s intense hazel eyes grew darker as the silence stretched.

Even now my heart raced under his stare, but nothing good came from loving him in my past life.

Never again.

I clenched my fist against the cool linen, pressing it tightly to my chest. “I want a divorce.”

Killian’s head tilted. “What?” he grunted.

I forced myself to meet his eyes, even as my shoulders trembled. "Are you surprised? Being tied to someone like you, Alpha Killian... it makes me sick. Sick to my stomach."

He snarled. “What did you just call me?”

I locked my gaze on his, refusing to back down even as fear clawed at my throat. 

“You heard me—Alpha Killian, I don't want to be your mate anymore!”