CHAPTER 3: The Day Fate Began Again

My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

​I stood in front of the cracked oval mirror, staring at a face I hadn't seen in five years. It was the face of a girl who still believed in fairy tales—a girl foolish enough to think fate rewarded loyalty, sacrifice, and love.

​A girl who had no idea she was destined to burn alive.

​A sharp knock sounded against the wooden frame.

​"Seraphina?" my mother called from the hallway. "Are you ill, dear?"

​The sound of her voice hit like a physical blow.

​In my first life, she had died less than a year after my rejection ceremony. Accused of aiding political traitors against the Crown, she had been dragged from our home and executed without a trial. I never even got to say goodbye.

​Now she was alive. Breathing. Waiting on the other side of my door.

​My throat tightened, raw with unshed tears. "I'm coming," I managed to choke out.

​For several agonizing seconds, I simply stood there, grounding myself against the cool wood of the dresser. Then I crossed the room and pulled the door open.

​My mother immediately frowned, her soft brown eyes sweeping over me. "By the Moon Goddess, child, what happened to your face?"

​Before I could answer, she reached up, her warm palm cradling my cheek.

​The simple, tender gesture shattered every wall I had built. Tears spilled over my lashes before I could stop them.

​Her expression shifted to instant alarm. "Seraphina?"

​I threw my arms around her neck, burying my face into her shoulder. The force of the embrace startled us both. For a moment, she went rigid with surprise, then her arms wrapped tightly around my back, comforting me just as she had when I was a child.

​"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

​I clung to her, breathing in the familiar scent of dried lavender and almond oil. Everything, I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her she was going to be murdered. I wanted to warn her that our pack would betray us, that the kingdom we served was a den of vipers, and that a dark, agonizing death waited for us both.

​Instead, I swallowed the bitter truth and forced myself to step back. "Just a bad dream."

​Her worried gaze searched my eyes. "That must have been some nightmare."

​If only you knew.

​I forced a faint smile, wiping my cheeks. "Maybe."

​She looked far from convinced, but fortunately, she didn't push. "Come downstairs. The ceremony begins in two hours."

​The ceremony.

​The words settled like lead in my stomach. Today was the day. The day my fate had begun its cruel unraveling—the day Alpha Kael Blackwood would publicly reject our bond.

​Memories rushed back with sickening precision: the mocking whispers of the nobles, the laughter from the crowd, Vivienne's practiced sympathy, and the cold, unyielding judgment in Kael's golden eyes as he discarded me. The public humiliation that had broken my spirit.

​I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.

​Not this time.

​This time, I knew every trap laid in the dark. And that changed everything.

​The capital square was already choked with citizens when we arrived. Silver banners fluttered from every rooftop, merchants shouted over the din, and young wolves dressed in their finest ceremonial garments navigated the crowded cobblestones. Many looked radiant, holding out hope that today would reveal their destined mates.

​I remembered feeling that same innocent excitement five years ago. Before reality carved the naivety out of me.

​Deep within my chest, my wolf stirred uneasily.

​The familiar warmth made me pause. In my first life, after Kael rejected us, my wolf had retreated into silence—broken, wounded, and slowly fading. Now, she felt different. Stronger. Fully awake, pulsing with a volatile heat that hadn't been there before.

​It was as if the ancient dragon in the void had rewired something fundamental inside us. I couldn't tell if the realization brought comfort or absolute terror.

​At the center of the square stood the Moon Altar—a massive platform of carved white stone etched with ancient runes, surrounded by silver flames. The very place where my life had fallen apart.

​My chest constricted.

​"Seraphina!"

​I went rigid. I knew that voice. Of course I did.

​Slowly, I turned.

​Vivienne was gliding toward me through the crowd. With her cascading golden hair and flawless smile, she was effortlessly striking—the kind of beautiful that made people lower their guard instantly.

​The snake who had destroyed my life.

​A white-hot wave of rage surged through my veins, nearly stealing the air from my lungs. My cousin. My betrayer. The woman who would frame me for treason, steal my place, and stand beside Kael while I burned at the stake.

​She smiled warmly, stepping into my space exactly as she had in my previous life. No one ever saw the monster lurking beneath that pristine exterior.

​Except me.

​"There's my favorite cousin," she purred.

​A dark, humorless laugh nearly escaped me. Favorite cousin. What a sick farce.

​"Vivienne," I said, keeping my tone clipped and level.

​She blinked, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second. In the past, I would have thrown my arms around her, chattering nervously about the ceremony and seeking her reassurance. My coldness caught her off guard.

​Good. Even small deviations were already fracturing the timeline.

​"You seem nervous," she noted, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she scrutinized my face.

​"I'm not."

​Something flickered in her gaze—a brief shadow of confusion. Let her wonder. I intended to give her far more than confusion before this was over.

​A bronze war horn suddenly blasted across the square, its deep tone drowning out the noise of the crowd. The spectators erupted into loud cheers as every eye turned toward the elevated royal platform.

​My blood turned to ice.

​He had arrived.

​Alpha Kael Blackwood. The future King. My mate. My executioner.

​He stepped onto the dais wearing high-collared black armor trimmed with polished silver. The crowd roared his name. Young women sighed, and seasoned warriors bowed their heads in deep respect.

​Nothing about his presence had diminished. He was still devastatingly handsome, commanding, and impossible to ignore.

​For one terrifying second, my foolish heart traitorously hammered against my ribs—the lingering ghost of a five-year obsession. But then the vivid memory of the execution stake flashed behind my eyes. The iron chains. The smell of burning flesh. The hollow emptiness in his eyes as he watched the flames consume me.

​The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, deadly clarity.

​Kael scanned the sea of faces below, his expression calm and detached. Then, his golden eyes locked onto mine.

​The world dropped away. The cheers, the fluttering banners, the movement of the crowd—everything faded into white noise.

​A heavy, suffocating tension snapped between us like a drawn bowstring.

​Inside me, my wolf slammed against my ribs. Mate.

​Kael visibly stiffened. His jaw locked, and his golden eyes widened—just a fraction, but enough.

​Enough to know he felt it too. The sudden, violent pull of the mate bond slamming into his senses.

​Five years ago, that spark of recognition would have filled me with overwhelming joy. Now, I wanted to reach into my chest and sever the bond with my bare hands.

​A muscle twitched violently in Kael's jaw. His gaze remained pinned to mine, dark, intense, and deeply unsettled.

​Good. I wanted him uncomfortable. I wanted him haunted.

​The war horn sounded a second time, signaling the start of the proceedings. High Elder Vane stepped forward, his heavy wooden staff striking the white stone of the altar.

​The ceremony had begun. And this time, I had no intention of playing my assigned role in his tragic script.

​As the High Elder raised his hands to summon the sacred flames, a low, reverberating voice echoed directly inside my mind—the same ancient presence from the dark void.

​Do not step onto the altar.

​My entire body locked up.

​If you do, you will die again.

​My heart hammered against my chest like a trapped bird.

​Before I could process the dragon's warning, a sharp metallic clang shattered the air.

​Across the square, Kael abruptly drew his broadsword, the steel flashing beneath the sunlight.

​The crowd shrieked in horror.

​Directly behind the future King, a cloaked assassin had materialized from the shadows, a poisoned blade raised above Kael's throat.