Rebirth

Layla Lightborn's POV

Pretty sure I am dead.

Yet, against the odds, I found myself waking up, eyelids fluttering open. My head throbbed with a persistent headache, a reminder of the ordeal I thought had ended my life. I was killed by those wolves after I ran away from the Blackwood Pack. As I stirred, I was astonished to find myself in a bed. My eyes widened, and I sat up, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with bewilderment. Where am I?

The room was grand and posh, adorned with furnishings that spoke of wealth and elegance. My gaze was drawn to a portrait of a lovely woman in a regal gown. Her brown hair cascaded elegantly, and her deep brown eyes that were almost black, held a mysterious allure. The room was strangely familiar, as though I had known it for a very long time, even though I was certain it was the first time I was brought here.

Am I in heaven?

Amid my confusion, a knock echoed on the door. "Who's there?" I asked, my voice betraying my nervousness.

An elderly voice responded, "It is I, Your Grace, Esperanza."

Your Grace? Esperanza? What is happening? The pieces of reality seemed to twist and turn, leaving me even more bewildered. Nervous and panicking, I stammered, "C-come in."

Esperanza entered the room with a gentle and cheerful demeanor that seemed to brighten the grand space. She was an elderly maid, her face adorned with wrinkles, yet her eyes sparkled with warmth. Just like the room, there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as though I had known her my entire life, though I couldn't recall ever seeing her before.

"I have brought you your breakfast, Your Grace," she announced with a cheerful smile, carrying a tray laden with what seemed to be a delectable and expensive meal. She sat down on a chair beside the unfamiliar bed, placing the tray on the nightstand.

"The whole Castle rejoices that you are finally awake, Your Grace. How are you feeling? Are you well?" she inquired, her caring gaze fixed upon me.

Confusion gnawed at my mind. "What do you mean, Esperanza?" I asked, studying her face intently, trying to place her in my memories.

She chuckled lightly. "It is fine that you do not remember, Your Grace. I understand," she reassured me. "You have been in a deep slumber for three weeks after the accident."

Accident? Three weeks? The information felt like a jumble of puzzle pieces that refused to fit together. As I strained to concentrate, a sharp pain lanced through my head, causing me to wince. Unfamiliar images and faces flashed before my closed eyes, leaving me disoriented.

Concern laced Esperanza's voice, "Take it slowly, Your Grace. You may want to lie down."

Pushing aside her suggestion gently, I grappled with the pain, trying to make sense of the fragments in my mind. Despite the desire to tell her I wasn't "Your Grace," I hesitated. Terrifying this kind and caring woman by claiming to be someone who had died didn't seem right. Maybe this was a dream, or perhaps I had entered the afterlife. With a deep breath, I played along, deciding to ask, "Can you... can you tell me what happened?"

Esperanza's eyes softened with understanding. "Three weeks ago, Your Grace, you and the Duke were in a car accident. The impact was severe, and you fell into a coma. We feared the worst, and for days it seemed as though you wouldn't make it. Until earlier this morning when you stirred in bed and called for..."

"Carlisle," I interjected, the name slipping from my lips before I could fully grasp it. The sound was both foreign and strangely familiar. An image of a handsome man with dark, wavy hair flashed in my mind, leaving me grappling with a sense of confusion. Why did I know him?

Esperanza nodded in confirmation, "Yes, Your Grace. You were looking for the Duke when you woke up. So, I hurried to prepare food for you and made a call to the Capitol to inform your husband that you had awakened."

Husband? My eyes widened with astonishment. I have a husband? Am I the Duchess now, then? "Wait," I said to Esperanza, attempting to process the revelation. "Do you mean the Duke is coming?"

"Yes, Your Grace, with much haste," she confirmed.

"When?"

"He'll be here in an hour," she replied, leaving me to grapple with the imminent arrival of a man I couldn't remember, in a life that seemed both unfamiliar and strangely my own.

----

After savoring the delicious breakfast Esperanza had prepared, which tasted unlike the food from Blackwood Pack, I found myself alone in the unfamiliar room. Rising from the strange bed, I examined my body, noting the absence of wounds—no scratches, claw marks, or bite marks from the wolves that had attacked me the previous night. It was jarring.

Wearing a nightgown finer than the one Mathilde had crafted for me, I felt a pang of pain in my heart, recalling the memories of Magnus's rejection, betrayal, and the inexplicable turn of events that led me here.

Left to my own devices, I approached the mirror. A gasp escaped me as I observed my altered face. It was different, not resembling my former self, yet strangely familiar. Brown hair framed my face, and deep brown eyes that were almost black, stared back at me.

I look like... I look like...  "The woman in the portrait," I said to myself out loud. The only difference was a small bandage on my forehead.

Can it be true? I pinched my cheeks, feeling the pain that reassured me this wasn't a dream.

This was real.

This is impossible. Have I been reborn into the Duchess's body? The questions swirled in my mind as I grappled with the incomprehensible reality unfolding before me.

Amidst the whirlwind of confusion that enveloped me, a knock abruptly snapped me back to the present. As the door swung open, the man from my mind stepped in, leaving me momentarily stunned. He surpassed the image in my head—absolutely and ridiculously handsome. Dark wavy hair, hazel eyes that pierced through, fair skin that seemed to glow, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a cleft chin. His smile radiated an overwhelming handsomeness, causing my heart to pound audibly.

Carlisle.

His mere presence ignited a storm of emotions within me as I grappled with processing the situation. Nervously, I stammered, "Y-your Grace."

His laughter was so musical that I thought I had wet my panties.

"Oh, thank the Goddess, you are awake," he exclaimed, rushing to my side. The hug that followed brought warmth and comfort, his muscular body emanating an intoxicating scent. Like wildflowers and cinnamon. The embrace felt oddly familiar, making it difficult for me to pull away.

As he released me, Carlisle looked into my eyes, tears streaming down his face. "I thought I lost you, my love."

I just stood there, stunned, unable to find words as I stared at his perfect face.

His deep, loving voice broke the silence, asking, "How are you feeling, my love?" It snapped me out of my trance.

Stammering, I admitted, "C-confused, mainly. But... I... I think I am well, Your Grace."

He chuckled, gently cupping my face with his hands. "You must have hit your head real hard. You're being so formal again. No need for that anymore, my love."

I swallowed hard. "I... I'm sorry, Your—I mean, Carlisle."

Another smile adorned his face, and I almost melted where I stood. 

"That's more like it. I love you, my dearest Cassiopeia," he declared as he drew his face closer to mine and kissed me.