Chapter 2

Elena's POV

It took me a moment to realize I woke up in my old bedroom, the room I lived in until the day I left to marry Derek.

I was in my old cotton nightdress with the chipped buttons. The ceiling had the water stain that my father had refused to fix for me. The iron-latch window was the small one in the east tower of my father's pack.

A calendar on the wall made me do a double-take.

It was three days before I married Derek. Before the mistakes, the betrayal, and the death.

Had I really been sent back in time by the moon goddess?

My hand went to my throat. No burning. My mouth was sweet, not bitter. There were still tears on my cheeks. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my legs until they stopped.

It had to be real. I was back.

I wonder if it was her words I heard before my death: “And the sinners… they will go back with you.”

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Miss? Your father wants you in the parlor. Says the engagement is set." Magot’s voice called from the doorway.

I knew that voice instinctively. Magot had been by my side my entire life, teaching me the ways of the pack while my father ignored me and following me to Derek’s pack in my last life.

After I was accused of treason, I was confined to my room while Magot was thrown into the dungeon. It's not hard to imagine what happened to her after I was killed.

I called her in. She came through the door with her round, freckled face smiling warmly.

"Good morning, Miss." Her smile faltered the moment she saw my face. "Goodness, are you crying?"

I touched my cheek. The tears from my past death were still there, a reminder of the life I had lived and lost.

"It's nothing," I said. "Bad dream."

"You look… different today," she said, curiosity in her tone.

Different. Yes. I was no longer the timid girl under my father’s gaze. Before my death, the calm and wisdom of the Luna Queen already lived within me.

I gave Magot a smile. "I suppose… I’ve finally learned what it means to grow up."

Magot’s eyes softened, and she nodded slowly. “I can see it, Miss. You will be a strong Luna." She then turned toward the door. "Take your time to get dressed. I’ll wait at the entrance."

Once she left, I walked over to my wardrobe. There weren't many choices. I picked one of the plain gray wool dress with a high neck — the kind Cecilia had picked, saying wolfless girls should not dress to be noticed.

On my way to the parlor, I reminded myself of my purpose. I was thirty in soul, wiser than my 20 year old body. The Moon Goddess had given me a rare second chance, and I would not waste it.

The parlor was quiet when I walked in.

My father stood at the window. He did not turn. Cecilia sat on the green silk couch with her embroidery hoop and a smile that arrived a half-second before her eyes did.

"Elena, dear. Come in."

"Father," I said flatly.

Marcus turned to face me, his expression as cold and distant as always.

I knew my father never loved me. In my last life, after I married Derek, I would write him for help when Derek's pack was starving. He would not write back.

I also doubted if he ever loved my mother. I knew barely anything about my mother. He never allowed me to ask. He almost immediately married Cecilia after my mother died and cared nothing about the daughter she left behind.

"The engagement," Marcus said. "It's finalized. The wedding will be in three days, on the same day as Vivienne's."

"Two daughters, one happy day!" Cecilia chirped. "Isn't that just perfect? Of course, dear, all the guests will be at Vivienne's wedding. But you'll have Derek. And love. That's what really matters, isn't it?" Her needle dipped.

Last time, I couldn't help but cry after hearing this. I had asked Derek if we could change the wedding date so everyone could come, and Derek had patted my hair and told me the venue was paid for and who really mattered on our wedding day were just us.

This time, I almost laughed. "It'fine. Because I'm not marrying-"

Before I finished my sentence about not marrying Derek, the parlor doors opened.

I turned.

Vivienne came into the parlor with one hand wrapped around Derek's arm and the other pressed to her chest. She was wearing cream silk with a sweetheart neckline.

"Father," Vivienne said. Her voice broke on the second syllable, beautifully. "I can't marry Prince Adrian. I can't. Derek and I love each other."

My stomach went cold.

“And the sinners… they will go back with you.” The soft and unmistakable voice I heard before my death echoed in my mind again.

Could it be? Had Vivienne and Derek also been sent back? Were they given a second chance just like me?