Chapter 2

Veyra’s POV

Three months. That was how long I had before the Black Moon.

I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady my breathing. The second chance was real and somewhere beyond these walls, the man who had watched me die was still living as if he had done nothing wrong.

Draven Ashford!

In my first life, I had spent years mistaking his demands for trust and my sacrifices for love. When hunger came, he had weighed my life against his pack’s survival and decided I was expendable.

I could still hear his voice. I don’t have the luxury of sentiment, Veyra. My hands curled into fists. I wouldn’t confront him yet.

He had no idea I remembered everything, and I intended to keep it that way until I had secured my money, my safety, and every chance of surviving what was coming. Whatever it was, I refused to waste it. Footsteps approached my bedroom.

I froze as the door opened, and Draven walked inside.

For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe properly. He wore a clean shirt, his dark hair was neatly combed, and his face carried none of the exhaustion I remembered.

He looked like the Alpha I had married, the man who had once promised to protect me. Then I remembered his knife.

“You’re awake early,” he remarked, glancing at the clock. “Are you feeling unwell?”

My fingers curled around the edge of the dresser.

I wanted to attack him. I wanted to demand whether he would still call my murder a necessary sacrifice if he knew I remembered every moment of it.

Instead, I forced myself to lower my hands.

“I had a terrible dream.”

“Again?” He barely looked at me. “You should stop worrying so much. It’s affecting your sleep.”

Again?

The word nearly made me laugh. He had no idea how many nightmares I had survived.

Draven adjusted his cuff before continuing. “There’s a royal gathering this afternoon. I need you to transfer some money into Blackthorn’s account before we leave. We have expenses to cover.”

In my first life, I would have agreed immediately. I would have asked how much he needed and assured him that everything would be handled. This time, I studied his face.

“Why can’t your own accounts cover the expenses?”

His hand stopped moving.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. Why are you asking me to transfer money?”

“Because you have the funds available, Veyra. There’s no reason to make this difficult.”

“My inheritance is not Blackthorn’s emergency fund.”

His expression hardened. “Your inheritance helped build this pack. You know that.”

“Exactly. It helped build the pack. That doesn’t mean you can demand my money whenever you please.”

He stared at me as if I had begun speaking another language.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he said finally. “Don’t be late for the gathering.”

He turned and walked out. The door clicked shut. I locked it, stumbled to the bed, and buried my face in the pillow.

I hated myself for crying over him. I knew what he had done. I knew what he was capable of.

Yet some foolish part of me still mourned the husband I had believed existed, the man who had promised to build a family with me.

Grief didn’t disappear simply because the truth had become clear. I cried for the woman I had been, for the family I had loved, and for the life I had spent trying to earn affection that should never have required sacrifice.

Then I remembered something.

My pregnancy!!

In my first life, I had lost the child weeks after this date. Seren had persuaded me to take a treatment supposedly designed to strengthen my wolf. When the miscarriage happened, I blamed my body.

Draven had left me alone with my grief, and Seren had held me while pretending to comfort me.

Now I wondered what that treatment had really contained. I wiped my face and reached for my clothes. I needed a healer.

At the clinic, I told the attending healer that I had experienced dizziness and nausea.

She examined me, asked several questions, and collected samples for testing.

When she returned, she held a small report in her hand.

“Veyra, you’re pregnant.”

I stared at her.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Your pregnancy is still in its early stages.” She pulled a chair closer. “You should avoid unnecessary medication until we’ve completed a few additional tests.”

My hand moved to my stomach.

A child?

I remembered the emptiness that followed my first miscarriage, the way I had begged Draven to stay beside me.

He had told me we could try again before leaving the room. I remembered Seren rubbing my back while I cried.

They had both known how desperately I wanted a family.

I couldn’t tell whether this pregnancy would follow the same course as the last one. I didn’t even know whether I could bear the thought of losing another child.

But I knew one thing. Nobody would make decisions about this baby without my consent.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, searching the healer’s face.

She hesitated. “There’s something else.”

My fingers tightened around the report.

“Your wolf signature is unusually strong for this stage. There’s also a second pattern in the readings. It’s faint, but it doesn’t resemble what I would normally expect.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Her expression grew serious. “I’ve never encountered this before. I want you to return for additional examinations. Until we understand what we’re seeing, don’t discuss these results with anyone who might exploit the information.”

I left the clinic with more questions than answers. On the journey home, I remembered the infected creature that had once stopped in front of me instead of attacking. At the time, I thought it was confusing.

Now I wondered whether my bloodline had something to do with its behavior.

Could the unusual reading be connected to the Hollowborn? Could the pregnancy be involved?

I refused to invent answers before I had evidence. For now, I would protect my child and investigate carefully.

Back in my bedroom, I found a notebook and began listing everything I needed: food, clean water, medicine, a secure shelter, weapons, and people I could trust.

Then I wrote three names under the list.

Draven.

Seren.

Marielle.

I stared at my mother’s name for a long time before closing the notebook. Another memory surfaced from the night I died. As my family gathered around me, Seren leaned toward Draven and whispered something I couldn’t fully hear. I remembered only a few words.

~She must not reach the king.

At the time, I had assumed she meant the royal guards. Now I wasn’t so certain.

I searched through my correspondence until I found a letter bearing the royal seal. It announced that King Kael Veyr would visit Blackthorn within the coming weeks.

In my first life, I had barely spoken to him.

Why had Seren feared my reaching him?

I placed the letter beside my notebook and looked at the date again.

Three months. I had three months to protect my child, prepare for the apocalypse, and discover what my family had been hiding.

This time, I would find out why they had wanted me dead.