Chapter Two: The Second Life

Warmth.

For a moment, that was all Elara felt. A strange, suffocating warmth that pressed against her skin. She flinched, expecting fire, but there was no pain. Her lungs pulled in air—sweet, crisp, carrying the faint scent of lavender. Not smoke. Not blood.

Her eyes snapped open

The world above her wasn’t the soot-stained ceiling of the throne room. It was pale, carved wood, familiar in a way that stole the breath from her throat. The canopy above her bed, draped in silver curtains, looked untouched by war. She bolted upright, her heart hammering, hands clutching the sheets that weren’t soaked in blood but embroidered with the royal crest of her family.

No…” Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief.

She pressed trembling fingers against her chest, expecting to feel the gaping wound, the cold burn of steel between her ribs. Instead, her skin was smooth, unmarred. Her heart beat steady beneath her palm, too steady, too alive.

Elara pushed the blankets aside and swung her legs off the bed. Her feet met polished wood, cool but clean, not slippery with crimson. The room was quiet save for the crackle of the hearth fire, throwing warm light across the walls she knew too well. Her chamber. Her childhood chamber.

She staggered to the mirror.

The girl staring back at her was not the broken queen who had fallen bleeding in her throne room. She was younger—so much younger. Her hair tumbled in dark waves, untouched by grief. Her face was softer, cheeks fuller, eyes wide with the innocence she had long since lost.

“No,” she whispered again, gripping the edges of the mirror. “This isn’t real.”

But it was. Every detail screamed truth. The pale scar on her hand from when she tumbled in the training yard as a child. The small silver comb her mother gave her, resting neatly on the vanity. The faint sound of the courtyard bell outside, marking the hour before dawn.

Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. She staggered back to the bed, clutching her head. Images crashed through her mind—the blade, the betrayal, the Moon Goddess’s whisper.

Rise again. Rewrite your fate.

The words rang like thunder in her skull.

Elara?”

Her head snapped toward the door. The voice—soft, cautious, achingly familiar—nearly broke her.

Her younger brother, Kael, peeked inside. His hair was mussed from sleep, his tunic wrinkled, but his smile was the same as she remembered before the war had hardened it. “You’re awake early. Couldn’t sleep again?”

Her throat tightened. In her first life, she had watched Kael fall in battle at only nineteen, his body broken protecting her. She had buried him with her own hands, swearing vengeance that never came.

And now, he was alive.

“Kael,” she choked out, the name cracking like a sob.

He frowned at her reaction, stepping into the room. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

Elara crossed the distance before he could finish, clutching him in a desperate embrace. He stiffened, startled, before awkwardly patting her back.

“You’re acting strange,” he muttered, but his tone was fond. “Did you have another nightmare?”

If only he knew.

Tears burned in her eyes, spilling hot down her cheeks. She buried her face in his shoulder, holding on as though he would vanish if she let go. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“You saw me yesterday,” he teased lightly, though confusion laced his words. He pulled back, studying her face. “Elara… are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded quickly, wiping her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. She couldn’t explain. Not yet. Not when she barely understood it herself.

But inside her chest, a spark had ignited. The Moon Goddess had given her back everything she had lost. Her family. Her youth. Her throne.

And her enemies.

Elara’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. This time, she would not be soft. She would not be blind to betrayal. She would carve her path with teeth and claws if she had to.

Her gaze flicked to the mirror again. The innocent girl reflected there was gone, even if her face remained young. Behind her eyes was steel.

“Elara?” Kael prompted gently.

She forced a small smile for him, swallowing the storm inside her. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

He shrugged, accepting the excuse, and turned toward the door. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Don’t make me come drag you out of bed again.”

When the door closed, silence pressed in once more.

Elara let out a shaky breath, then whispered into the empty room, “This time will be different.”

The words hung heavy in the air, a vow and a warning.

She sank to her knees beside the bed, pressing her palms together. She had not prayed in years—not since the day she had been betrayed. But now she lifted her face toward the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the window.

“Moon Goddess,” she murmured. “I don’t know why you’ve given me this chance. But I will not waste it. I will protect my family. I will protect my crown. And I will never let him destroy me again.”

The fire cracked in the hearth, casting shadows like wolves across the walls.

Her second life had begun.

And this time, the hunt was hers.