All Chapters of Reborn For Vengeance: Claiming All That Was His: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The morning air was so cold that it felt as though it cut into my lungs with every shallow breath.It was a beautiful day, a clear blue sky, bright sunlight, as if the day were mocking what was about to happen.Two warriors entered my cell, dragged me out of the damp, stinking dungeon, tightly bounded my wrists with a rope woven with silver threads that burned like fire against my skin. My bare feet scraped across the gravel, each step sending a new jolt of pain through my legs.When I finally saw the light outside, it felt like I was being stabbed.Despite my trembling knees and the open wounds on my back, whip marks I could still feel, I held my head high. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me weak. No, I wouldn’t do that.The square was packed, more than I had expected.Hundreds of packmates, faces I’d known my whole life, stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for my demise. Their eyes were angry, wild, twisted by unfiltered rage. I felt it roll over me in waves, heard

“Amani,” Vance stuttered.He actually took a half-step back, his boots scuffing against the hardwood floor. “You're awake. I… I didn't think you'd be up yet.”I sat up slowly, the silk sheets sliding off my skin.I felt the morning chill hit my shoulders, but I didn't reach for a robe. I didn't try to hide the way my eyes were likely bloodshot from the 'death' I’d just experienced. I wanted him to see me, really see me, standing in the wreckage of the mating he was currently torching.I kept my eyes locked on Zebub's face, her ‘victim’ mask.She was leaning into him, her small hands clutching his forearm so tightly her knuckles were white. It was a performance that deserved an award, but I could see the way her eyes darted to the expensive heirlooms on my nightstand.She was already measuring the value of my room.“You're late, Vance. You were supposed to be back at midnight.”My voice was flat, devoid of the frantic worry he was probably expecting. In my past life, I would have spent

The silence of the packhouse was deceptive. Believe me on that.On the surface, everything looked the same. Guards at their posts with their shoulders squared, servants moving through the halls with their heads down, and the faint, familiar smell of roasted meat drifting from the kitchens.But beneath the mundane routine, tension coiled like a snake waiting to strike. I could feel it in my bones, a low-frequency pulse of anxiety vibrating through the stone floors.The pack knew.Wolves always know when the wind changes, even before the storm hits.Slowly, I walked down the corridor, my fingers brushing the rough stone walls.Every step carried the trace of a ghost.In my last life, this had been the day I lost everything. I remembered running down this same hall, tears blurring my vision, begging the Moon Goddess for a mercy that never came. Now, my eyes were bone-dry and my heart was a cold piece of flint.This wasn't the day I lost, it was the day I began to take it all back, piece

Two scores. I needed to add another one to my victory chariot to ensure I was strong enough when the right time arrived to stake my claim over this pack.Time to head to the Southern Border. I had to pick up where Vance failed to come to an agreement with those rogues. When I arrived at the battlefield, it felt like a place where the world had simply given up.. The air was a stagnant mix of wet pine needles and the metallic tang of old blood that seemed to have leached into the very soil over decades of skirmishes. Out here, the polished marble of the packhouse felt like a fever dream. This was the reality of the Eclipse Star, mud, grey skies, and the constant, low-frequency sizzle of a threat that never slept.Korgan, that filthy rogue leader, showed up from nowhere and stood ten feet away from me. He was a mountain of a man, built of scars and unwashed leather, his chest heaving with a restlessness that suggested he was seconds away from shifting and ending this conversation with h

Amani’s Point of ViewThe gravel path back to the packhouse felt longer than usual. It took Sara longer to bridge the distance, but ultimately, we arrived. I slipped behind the tree where I had shifted before, found my clothes, and put them on. To ease my mind, I walked toward the backyard of the packhouse. At this time of the day, it would be deserted, just what I needed: some quiet and peace.I was nearly at the stone bridge when I saw her. Savanna, the High Elder’s mate, was draped in expensive charcoal wool, standing perfectly still like a vulture waiting for something to finally die.“Luna,” she called out as I approached.Her voice was thin and sweet, the kind of sweetness that hides the taste of arsenic.“You look absolutely drained. One would think a woman of your standing would leave the mud and the rogues to the men. You should care more for your family.”I didn't stop.I kept my pace steady, forcing her to pivot to keep up with me.“The men are currently pr