All Chapters of Reborn as Betrayed Luna : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

#Livia’s POV Darkness should have lasted forever instead I woke with a violent gasp. Air rushed into my lungs so sharply that my chest burned. I lurched upright, clawing at my throat, expecting to feel warm blood pouring over my fingers.But to my surprise, there was no blood. I looked around and found no wound, no silver chains and no execution platform. Only the soft familiar scent of lavender and cedar lingering in the air. I froze, my chest heaving as my heart pounded wildly against my ribs. I stared at the room around me. The carved oak wardrobe standing in the corner. The cream-colored linen curtains fluttered in the gentle morning breeze. The narrow bookshelf my father had built with his own hands especially for me. The faded blue rug resting beside my bed.“No..” The words scraped out of my throat, barely a whisper. “This can't be….”I threw back the blanket and stumbled toward the full-length mirror near the window. The woman staring back at me wasn't the broken ,hollowed-o

#Livia’s POV The floor beneath my feet felt as fluid as water. My father caught me before my knees hit the hardwood, his arms wrapping around my shoulder to anchor my weight. Pain throbbed behind my eyes, a fierce pulsating heat that blurred my vision until the room dissolved into smeared shapes of gold, gray and brown. Sweat broke out along my hairline, cold and sudden.“Livia!” Father's voice sounded muffled as though he were calling to me from the bottom of a deep lake. “What's wrong ? What's happening ?”I pressed trembling fingers into my left temple, my thumb digging into the bone to fight the nauseating wave of pressure. Through the haze I could feel every eye in the drawing room locked onto me. “Just…”My breath caught, dragging roughly to my throat. “Just…sudden dizziness. A passing migraine.”It was the easiest lie to hand them. I couldn't tell my father that my head was splitting open under the weight of an impossible memory – a memory of his political rival kneeling in re

#Livia’s POV The leather cover felt like ice under my palms. I sat frozen on the cold floorboards of my bedchamber, the pale moonlight filtering through the dark to illuminate the yellowed pages of my childhood diary. My chest heaved, every breath dragging through my lungs like shards of glass.“If I ever forget the truth… don't let me trust my own memories.”I whispered the words aloud into the quiet room, my voice trembling until it was nothing more than a faint rasp. “I wrote this... I know I wrote this.”The sharp, slanted curve of my ’t’s and the wide, sweeping loop of my ’y’s were undeniable. To prove it to my fracturing mind, I reached out with a shaking hand, pulled a ledger off my lower bookshelf, and set the two side by side beneath the silver light. I traced the strokes in both books simultaneously.They were identical. Same ink tone. Same pressure points. Same girl.Why don't I remember writing it then ?A cold sweat broke out along my forehead. It was one thing to doubt

Livia's POVA loud, firm knock against my bedroom door shattered the heavy silence.“Lady Livia?” Mira’s voice carried through the thick oak paneling. “Your father is requesting your presence downstairs for morning tea. A messenger from the capital has arrived.”I gasped, shoving the folded note back into the diary, thrusting the journal deep beneath my mattress, and pulling the heavy velvet blanket over the mess.“I’m awake, Mira!” I called back, my voice remarkably steady despite the storm raging inside my head. “Give me a moment to dress.”I smoothed my hair in the glass, wiped the sweat from my brow, and took three deep, controlled breaths. I made a choice right then, standing in the cold morning light of my room.I was done reacting. I was done cowering in corners, trembling at memories that didn't align and visions that made no sense. If the world was going to warp around me, I would stop acting like a victim waiting for the executioner's axe.I pulled out a small piece of blank

Livia’s POV Asher reached inside his heavy wool coat, pulling out a folded leather map of the mountain pass to show me where his pack army was camped. But as he pulled his hand away, the parchment slipped from his gloved fingers, fluttering down onto the damp stone path between us.Without thinking, I bent down to retrieve it at the exact same moment he reached down. Our bare fingers brushed. The moment his skin touched mine, a violent, blinding shockwave slammed through my head and suddenly the garden vanished before my eyes and was replaced by a silver crescent moon blazed in a pitch-black sky.The deafening rattle of heavy iron chains echoed against stone while a woman’s ragged, sobbing breath cut through the dark. Then, as fast as it had struck, the vision shattered into dust, snapping us back to the silent glasshouse.Both of us recoiled as if burned. Asher jerked his hand back, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, ragged gasps. He stared at his trembling fingers, his