Chapter 3

ELENA'S POV

I woke up to sunlight streaming through familiar white curtains. The smell of antiseptic and 

herbs filled my nose. My heart hammered in my chest as I sat up quickly, looking around in 

confusion. 

This was my office. My medical office at the pack center. 

But how was that possible? I was supposed to be dead. I could still feel the flames, still taste 

the smoke in my lungs. The memory of burning alive was so real. 

I looked down at my hands. No burns. No scars. My skin was perfect and unmarked. 

"What..." I whispered, touching my face, my arms, checking for any sign of the fire. 

Nothing. It was like it never happened. 

I was wearing my white doctor's coat over a simple blue dress. The same outfit I had worn 

that terrible day five months ago when little Tommy Morrison died. When everything started 

to fall apart. 

My breath caught in my throat. 

The calendar on my desk showed a date from a month ago. A month before Tommy 

Morrison would die. Before everything fell apart. 

"No," I breathed. "This can't be real." 

I stood up on shaky legs and walked to the mirror hanging on my office wall. My reflection 

stared back at me. Same brown hair pulled back in a neat bun. Same green eyes. Same 

face. 

But I was alive. 

I touched the mirror with trembling fingers. "Moon Goddess," I whispered. "Did you really...?" 

The memories came flooding back. Marcus holding the torch. Sophia lying about my 

jealousy. Adrian confessing his love as I burned. The pack I had served wanting me dead. 

Tears filled my eyes, but this time they weren't tears of despair. They were tears of gratitude. 

The Moon Goddess had heard my cry, She had given me another chance. 

But the problem is, how was I supposed to go home to Marcus tonight and pretend 

everything was normal? How could I look at Sophia and smile when I knew what she would 

do to me? 

I was still trying to wrap my head around everything when a gentle knock interrupted my 

thoughts. 

"Elena?" a familiar voice called from outside my door. 

My heart stopped. 

Adrian. 

"Come in," I managed to say, though my voice sounded strange even to my own ears. 

The door opened and Dr. Adrian stepped inside, carrying a stack of medical files. He looked 

exactly as I remembered him. But I felt uneasy seeing the same man who had tried to save 

me from the flames. Who had confessed his love as I burned alive. 

"I brought the quarterly reports you asked for," he said, setting the files on my desk. Then he 

paused, studying my face with concern. "Elena? Are you alright? You look pale." 

I stared at him, unable to speak. 

"Elena?" Adrian stepped closer, his voice filled with worry. "What's wrong?" 

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. 

"I..." I started, then broke down completely. 

Adrian was beside me in an instant, his gentle hands on my shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay. 

What happened?" 

I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to warn him about what Marcus and Sophia would 

do. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and never let go. 

But how could I explain that I had died and come back? That I knew he loved me because 

he had screamed it while I burned? 

"I just... I had a terrible dream," I whispered, which wasn't entirely a lie. 

Adrian's thumb gently wiped away my tears. "It must have been some dream to upset you 

this much." 

If only he knew. 

"Adrian," I said quietly, "Do you think people can change? That someone you trust 

completely could become someone else entirely?" 

His expression grew thoughtful. "What brought this on?" 

"Just answer me. Please." 

He was quiet for a moment. "I think people can reveal sides of themselves we never knew 

existed. Especially when they want something badly enough." His eyes searched my face. 

"Elena, is this about Marcus?" 

I nodded, not trusting my voice. 

Adrian's jaw tightened slightly. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... different today." 

I nodded again, wiping my eyes. "I'm fine." 

"No, you're not." He studied me with those perceptive eyes. "Look, why don't you go home 

early today? Rest. You're clearly stressed about something, and pushing yourself won't 

help." 

"But I have patients to see..." 

"I can handle them," he said gently. "Go home.  Take care of yourself." 

I wanted to argue, but the truth was I didn't know how I was going to face anyone today. 

"Thank you," I whispered. --- 

I parked in the driveway and sat in my car for a moment, gathering courage. I could see 

Marcus through the living room window. 

I forced myself to get out of the car and walk to the front door. My hand shook as I turned the 

key. 

"Elena!" Marcus's voice called out as soon as I stepped inside. "You're home early." 

He appeared in the hallway smiling and it just made me feel sick. 

"Hey," I managed to say. 

He walked over and pulled me into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Missed you 

today." 

Before my rebirth, that simple gesture would have made me blush and smile. I would have 

melted into his embrace. 

Now, all I could think about was how these same lips had condemned me to death. How 

these same hands had held the torch that lit my funeral. 

I fought to keep the disgust off my face, forcing myself to smile. "Missed you too." 

But the words felt like ash in my mouth. 

Marcus pulled back, studying my expression. "Everything okay? You seem tense." 

"Just a long day at the clinic," I lied, stepping out of his embrace as casually as I could. 

"Well, you'll want to freshen up," he said, following me toward the stairs. "Sophia's coming 

over tonight for dinner. We have some pack business to discuss." 

My blood ran cold. 

"Pack business?" I asked, proud that my voice sounded normal. 

"Nothing too serious," Marcus said with a shrug. "Just some administrative stuff that needs 

sorting out." 

"Don't worry about it," Marcus said. "Just focus on making that roast you do so well. You 

know how much Sophia loves it." 

I gripped the banister tighter. Of course she did. She loved everything that was mine. --- 

Two hours later, I was setting the dining table when the doorbell rang. My hands trembled as 

I placed the last fork down. 

"I'll get it!" Marcus called out, and I heard him open the door. 

"Sophia! Come in.” 

"Marcus, thank you for having me over." She said . 

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, then made my way into the living room with the most convincing fake smile I could muster. I had practiced this smile in the mirror for weeks, the kind that didn’t quite reach the eyes but could still pass as genuine if no one looked too closely.

"Elena!" Sophia’s voice rang out with exaggerated warmth as she rushed toward me and wrapped her arms around me in a tight, familiar hug. "You look tired, honey. Is everything okay?"

The same concern. The same syrupy-sweet tone of care. It was all too familiar. Too perfect. If I didn’t know the truth behind that voice, if I hadn’t seen the venom masked beneath that soft expression, I might have believed she truly cared about me. I might have thought she meant those words.

"Just work stuff," I replied casually, returning her hug out of habit, even as every muscle in my body screamed at me to pull away. I had to fight the urge to recoil, to shove her aside and scream the truth. But instead, I smiled and let her think she still had me fooled.

During dinner, they sat closer than was appropriate—closer than two people who claimed to be just friends should ever sit. Their shoulders brushed more than once. Their laughter came too easily. Their shared glances lingered too long. It was all there, right in front of me.

Had I been this blind before? Or had I simply chosen not to see it? Had I ignored the signs, convinced myself that I was overthinking things, that Marcus would never… and Sophia couldn’t possibly…?

"Elena," Sophia said suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. She turned to me with that same infuriatingly sweet smile, her eyes filled with mock sincerity. "Can I ask you something personal?"

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. I slowly set it back down and gave her a polite nod, masking the tension building in my chest. "Of course," I said, my voice calm despite the storm rising inside me.

"What are you planning to do about your... situation? You know, the childless thing?" she asked, tilting her head slightly like a curious little bird, her expression laced with feigned concern. "People in the pack are starting to talk."

The words hit me like a slap, but I kept my face neutral. My appetite vanished instantly. Without another word, I calmly looked at her, swallowed the fire burning in my throat, and replied, "I’d rather not say." Then I picked up my plate, stood from the table with deliberate grace, and walked out of the dining hall, leaving their curious stares behind me.

---