The fluorescent lights in the Silvercliff Pack registration office buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glare on the blank contract spread before me. My fingers trembled slightly as I held the pen, the black ink seeming to mock me with its permanence.

Across the desk, Axel drummed his fingers against the worn wooden surface, the rhythmic tapping echoing through the sterile room. He wore that black henley shirt—sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms—the exact look that had made Maren blush and stammer whenever she saw him. Even now, the sight of those familiar muscles made my chest tighten with a pain I'd carried for too long.

"Come on, Ivy," he said, his voice edged with impatience. "It's just a signature. We've been through this a dozen times."

Just a signature. As if binding our lives together meant nothing more than signing a grocery receipt. I stared at the contract's pristine surface, the words "Spouse" and "Alpha Mate" swimming before my eyes. In my previous life, I'd signed this same document with trembling excitement, my heart racing with dreams of our future together.

How naive I'd been.

Memories crashed over me like a tide. That first night after our wedding ceremony, when I'd waited in our new bedroom wearing the silk nightgown I'd saved for months to buy. Axel had burst through the door at midnight, frantic and disheveled.

"Maren's having terrible cramps," he'd said, already changing out of his wedding suit. "I need to get her some medicine and stay with her tonight. You understand, right?"

I'd nodded, swallowing my disappointment like bitter medicine. Of course I understood. Maren was his adopted sister, fragile and sweet. What kind of monster would I be to resent her?

Axel's phone buzzed against the table, yanking me back to the present. His entire demeanor shifted as he read the message, concern flooding his features.

"Shit," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "Maren's feeling sick again."

The familiar ache settled in my chest. Even here, in this moment that should have been about us, she managed to intrude. I watched him type a quick response, his brow furrowed with worry that he'd never shown for me.

"You know what?" I said quietly, setting down the pen. "You have somewhere urgent to be. Just go."

His head snapped up, surprise flickering across his face. "Are you sure? I mean, this is important—"

"I can handle submitting the paperwork myself." The words came out steadier than I felt. "It's not like I need you to hold my hand."

Relief washed over his features so quickly it might have been comical if it didn't hurt so much. He was already standing, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Thanks, Ivy. You're... you're the best." He paused at the door, his expression growing serious. "And listen, about Maren—try not to let your jealousy show so much, okay? It's not a good look, and it could damage her reputation if people start talking."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Jealousy. After everything I'd endured, every sacrifice I'd made, every time I'd bitten my tongue and smiled while he chose her over me—he still saw me as nothing more than a petty, jealous woman.

I'd tried to explain it to him countless times in my previous life. How it felt to watch him drop everything whenever she called. How it hurt to see him remember her favorite coffee order while forgetting my birthday. How lonely it was to sleep next to someone who was always thinking of someone else.

But in his eyes, I was always the villain in their story.

"I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, satisfied, and disappeared through the door. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving me alone with the contract and the weight of my memories.

I picked up the pen again, my hand steadier now. The registration clerk, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, glanced up from her computer.

"Take your time, dear," she said gently. "These decisions shouldn't be rushed."

If only she knew how long I'd been making this decision. Not just today, but through years of a marriage that had slowly drained the life from me. Through pregnancy complications he'd missed because Maren had needed help moving apartments. Through our son's first steps, which he'd witnessed through a video call because he'd been comforting Maren through her divorce.

Even at the end, when cancer had been eating away at my body and I'd been too weak to lift my head from the pillow, he'd spent more time at Maren's bedside, helping her through her depression over her failed marriage.

Our son had knelt beside my deathbed, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Mom," he'd whispered. "Don't make Dad choose. He loves you both. Can't you just... can't you just let him be happy?"

I'd died with those words echoing in my ears, wondering when loving someone had become synonymous with erasing myself.

But this time would be different.

I pressed the pen to the paper, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me. In the spouse section, instead of my own name, I wrote in careful script: Maren Thorne.

Let him have what he'd always wanted. Let him stop pretending that duty and obligation were the same as love. Let Maren have the man who'd already given her his heart years ago.

And let me finally be free.

I signed my name at the bottom with a flourish, then slid the contract across the desk to the clerk. She glanced at it, did a double-take, then looked at me with confusion.

"I'm sorry, dear, but there seems to be a mistake. The name in the spouse section doesn't match your identification."

"There's no mistake," I said, standing up. "I'm transferring my marriage contract to Maren Thorne. It's all legal—she's an unmated female of age in the pack, and Alpha Axel has expressed clear preference for her companionship."

The clerk's eyes widened, but she processed the paperwork with professional efficiency. Within minutes, she handed me an official document bearing the Silvercliff Pack seal.

I stared down at the certificate: Alpha Axel Wren & Maren Thorne, Officially Bonded.

Strangely, I felt no sadness. No regret. Just a lightness in my chest that I hadn't experienced in years. For the first time since my rebirth, I could breathe freely.

I tucked the certificate into my purse and walked toward the door, my steps lighter than they'd been in decades. Behind me, I could hear the clerk frantically making phone calls, probably trying to figure out the legal implications of what I'd just done.

But that was no longer my problem.

This time, I wouldn't be the woman who waited at home while her husband's heart belonged to someone else. This time, I wouldn't sacrifice my dreams for a love that had never really been mine.

This time, I would spread my wings and fly far from the cage I'd built around myself.

The afternoon sun felt warm on my face as I stepped outside, and for the first time in two lifetimes, the future stretched before me like an open sky.

The familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon hit me as I stepped through the front door of the Wren family townhouse. Home. Or at least, what had passed for home in my previous life. The warm lighting from the crystal chandelier cast everything in a golden glow, but the scene unfolding in the living room made my stomach clench with recognition.

"Axel, you actually left my sister to come keep me company," Maren's voice drifted from the plush cream sofa, sweet and melodic with just the right hint of guilt. "Won't she be angry?"

I froze in the entryway, my hand still on the brass doorknob. Through the archway, I could see them—Axel perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning toward Maren who was curled up on the sofa like a delicate flower. She wore one of those oversized sweaters that made her look impossibly small and vulnerable, her honey-blonde hair falling in soft waves around her face.

"I can spend time with her anytime," Axel replied, his voice carrying that gentle tone he reserved only for her. "But when your cramps are this severe, how could I leave you alone?"

The words were a knife between my ribs. In my previous life, I'd heard this exact conversation through the thin walls of our bedroom while I waited in that silk nightgown, counting the hours until he'd remember he had a wife.

Maren's laugh tinkled like wind chimes. "But after you marry my sister, will you still treat me this well?"

"Of course." Axel's response came without hesitation. "If your sister ever treats you poorly, I'll divorce her."

The casual way he said it—as if our marriage was nothing more than a contract he could tear up on a whim—sent ice through my veins. I pressed my back against the door, memories flooding back like a dam bursting.

We'd been eight and ten when the Wren family took us in, two orphaned wolf pups whose parents had died defending the pack borders. I remembered that first night, how Maren had crawled into Cordelia Wren's lap during dinner, tears streaming down her cherubic face as she whispered about missing our mama. Within a week, she'd become the family's little princess.

I'd tried a different approach—helping with chores, studying hard, being the responsible older sister. But responsibility, I'd learned, was far less charming than helplessness.

By the time we were teenagers, Cordelia had made her preferences crystal clear. "Maren would make such a lovely Luna," she'd sigh while watching Maren practice piano. "She has such a gentle spirit. Perfect for supporting an Alpha."

But Maren had been cleverer than any of us realized. When Axel finally worked up the courage to confess his feelings—to her, not me—she'd given him that sad, wistful smile and said, "I could never compete with my sister for your affections. She's loved you for so long."

The perfect deflection. She'd made Axel choose me while keeping herself positioned as the noble, selfless sister who'd stepped aside for love. What none of us understood then was that she was simply waiting. Axel was just a warrior's son at the time—promising, but not the Alpha heir she'd eventually set her sights on.

"Ivy?" Axel's voice snapped me back to the present. He was standing now, concern creasing his brow. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just got in." I forced my voice to remain steady as I headed for the stairs. "Don't mind me."

Maren's eyes met mine over the back of the sofa, and for just a moment, I caught something that made my breath hitch. A flash of calculation, quickly masked by her usual sweet smile. "Sister, you look tired. Did the paperwork take long?"

She knew. Somehow, she already knew what I'd done.

"It was fine." I climbed the stairs without looking back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

In my room—the same room I'd shared with Axel in my previous life—I pulled out my laptop and navigated to the Crescent Ridge University website. The prestigious institution's homepage featured sprawling Gothic buildings and students who looked confident, powerful. Awakened.

Crescent Ridge wasn't just any university. It was where the most promising wolves went to unlock their dormant potential, to transform from ordinary pack members into something extraordinary. The admission requirements were brutal: top academic performance, leadership experience, and a personal statement that could convince the review board you were worth their investment.

In my previous life, I'd been accepted. Full scholarship, early admission, the works. But I'd turned it down to stay here, to be Axel's perfect Luna-in-waiting.

What a fool I'd been.

I pulled up the application portal, my fingers flying across the keyboard. The deadline was in two weeks—tight, but manageable. My grades from high school were still on file, and my volunteer work with the pack's youth programs would count as leadership experience.

A soft knock interrupted my research. "Ivy?" Axel's voice carried through the door. "I brought you some dinner."

I glanced at the clock. Nearly nine PM. They'd been talking for hours.

"I'm not hungry," I called back. "I ate out."

Silence. Then the doorknob turned, and Axel stepped inside carrying a bowl of what smelled like Cordelia's famous chicken soup. His hair was mussed, and he wore that slightly guilty expression I remembered so well.

"You ate out?" He set the bowl on my nightstand, frowning. "But you never spend money on restaurants. You always say it's wasteful."

The casual way he catalogued my habits—my frugality, my self-denial—made something twist in my chest. "Things change."

"I guess." He shifted awkwardly, glancing at my laptop screen. "What are you working on?"

"College applications."

His eyebrows shot up. "College? Ivy, we're getting married in three months. I thought we agreed you'd focus on Luna training with my mother."

Agreed. As if I'd had any real choice in the matter.

"About that." I closed the laptop and turned to face him. "I need you to pay me back for the wedding expenses I covered."

Axel's face went pale. "The wedding expenses?"

"The deposits on the venue, the caterer, the flowers. It was about three thousand dollars from my savings." I kept my voice level, businesslike. "I have the receipts if you need them."

"Ivy, that money..." He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. "I used it to buy Maren those limited edition sneakers she wanted. The ones for her birthday."

Of course he had. Three thousand dollars—money I'd saved from years of part-time jobs and careful budgeting—spent on shoes for his precious adopted sister.

"I see." I stood up, moving toward the door. "Then I'll need you to get it back from her, or pay me back yourself."

"Ivy, come on. Don't be like this." His voice took on that pleading tone that used to make me cave instantly. "You know how much those shoes meant to her. She'd been saving up for months, and I just wanted to surprise her."

"And I wanted a wedding." The words came out sharper than I'd intended. "But I suppose we can't all get what we want."

Axel stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. "What's gotten into you today? First you're weird at the registration office, now you're being petty about money. This isn't like you."

Petty. There was that word again.

I looked at him—really looked at him—and saw not the love of my life, but a man who'd never truly seen me as anything more than a convenient choice. A safe option. The responsible sister who'd never ask for too much.

"You're right," I said quietly. "This isn't like me at all."

I stepped back and closed the door between us, the soft click of the latch sounding like the end of everything I'd once believed in.

The flash of the camera felt like lightning against my retinas, each burst of light a reminder of the elaborate charade I was performing. The photography studio smelled of vanilla candles and artificial flowers, all carefully arranged to create the perfect romantic backdrop for couples who actually loved each other.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" The photographer, a thin man with an overly enthusiastic smile, gestured wildly with his hands. "Now, Alpha Axel, put your arm around her waist. Ivy, lean into him like you can't bear to be apart."

I forced my body to relax against Axel's side, feeling the familiar warmth of his chest through his crisp white shirt. In my previous life, I would have melted into this moment, treasuring every second of his touch. Now, it felt like playing dress-up in someone else's life.

"Perfect! One more shot, and then we'll try the second outfit." The photographer reached for a garment bag hanging nearby, unzipping it to reveal two gowns. "We have the classic white for the bride-to-be, and this gorgeous gold number for—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his face flushing as he noticed the small name tag still attached to the golden dress. My stomach dropped as I read the elegant script: *Maren Thorne*.

Axel cleared his throat, his arm tensing around my waist. "You wear the white one," he said quickly, not meeting my eyes. "The gold one isn't... it's not important."

Not important. Just like I wasn't important enough to be the only woman in his engagement photos.

I stared at that golden dress, remembering how in my previous life, this exact scenario had played out differently. Maren had "accidentally" shown up at the studio, claiming she was shopping nearby and thought she'd surprise us. The photographer had suggested she join us for a few shots—"just as family"—and somehow those family photos had ended up being the ones Axel treasured most.

The sales associate hurried over, her face apologetic as she quickly removed the name tag. "So sorry about that mix-up. Sometimes our inventory gets confused."

Mix-up. Right.

"It's fine," I said, my voice steady. "I'll take the white."

As I changed in the small dressing room, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The white gown was beautiful—flowing silk with delicate beadwork that caught the light. I looked like a bride. I looked happy. I looked like everything Axel was supposed to want.

But I could see the truth in my own eyes. This wasn't my fairy tale. It never had been.

The rest of the session passed in a blur of poses and fake smiles. Axel played his part perfectly, his hands gentle on my shoulders, his smile warm for the camera. But I noticed how his phone buzzed constantly in his pocket, how his eyes kept drifting toward the studio's large windows that faced the shopping center next door.

Waiting for her to appear.

"That's a wrap!" the photographer announced finally, reviewing the shots on his camera's display. "These are going to be stunning. You two are such a beautiful couple."

Beautiful. If only he knew how much effort it took to create that illusion.

As we gathered our things, Axel's phone rang. His face immediately brightened as he answered.

"Hey, Maren." His voice took on that soft, protective tone that used to make my heart race with jealousy. Now it just made me tired. "Yeah, we just finished. Where are you?"

I didn't need to hear her response to know what came next. In three... two... one...

"Oh, you're at the mall too? What a coincidence." He looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes that had once been my weakness. "Would you mind if we met up with her? She's having a rough day, and—"

"You two go ahead," I interrupted, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "I have errands to run."

The relief that flooded his features was almost comical. "Are you sure? I mean, we could all hang out together—"

"I'm sure." I headed toward the door, not bothering to wait for his response. "Tell Maren I said hello."

I walked through the mall's main corridor, the familiar sounds of shopping and conversation washing over me. Teenagers clustered around the food court, couples browsed store windows, families herded excited children toward the toy store. Normal people living normal lives, unburdened by the weight of loving someone who would never love them back.

The restroom was tucked away in a quiet corner near the department store, and I was grateful for the momentary solitude. As I washed my hands, I caught sight of my reflection again. The careful makeup from the photo shoot was still intact, but underneath it, I looked exhausted.

Four more days. Just four more days until my acceptance letter arrived, until I could finally tell everyone the truth and leave this suffocating life behind.

I stepped out of the restroom and froze.

A man stood at the far end of the corridor, partially hidden in the shadows between two storefronts. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that looked like he'd run his hands through it. But it was his eyes that made my breath catch—deep green, like pine forests after rain, and focused entirely on me.

The air around him seemed different somehow. Charged. Dangerous. He carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that spoke of power, real power, not the borrowed authority that came with pack politics.

Our eyes met across the distance, and something electric shot down my spine. He didn't look away, didn't pretend he hadn't been watching me. Instead, he gave the slightest nod, as if acknowledging some unspoken understanding between us.

Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he melted back into the crowd, leaving me standing there with my heart hammering against my ribs.

I told myself it was nothing. A stranger, a coincidence, a trick of the lighting. But as I made my way back through the mall, I couldn't shake the feeling that those green eyes were still watching me.

By the time I arrived home, the sun was setting, painting the Wren family townhouse in shades of gold and amber. I could hear voices from the living room—Axel and Maren, their laughter mixing with the sound of some romantic comedy playing on the television.

I climbed the stairs quietly, hoping to avoid another awkward encounter, but Cordelia's voice stopped me halfway up.

"Ivy, dear, perfect timing." She emerged from the kitchen, her silver hair perfectly styled despite the late hour. "I have wonderful news."

Something in her tone made my stomach clench. Cordelia's wonderful news usually meant complications for me.

"This weekend, we're going to hold the official Luna transition ceremony," she announced, her smile bright and sharp. "All the pack elders will be attending, along with representatives from the neighboring territories. It's time to make your role official."

The blood drained from my face. A formal ceremony meant public vows, binding pack magic, witnesses from across the region. It meant no escape.

I looked toward the living room, where I could see Axel's profile illuminated by the TV's glow. He was listening to something Maren was saying, his attention completely absorbed by her animated gestures.

He knew. Of course he knew about the ceremony. They'd planned this together, probably discussed it while I was changing clothes at the studio.

"That's... sudden," I managed.

"Not sudden at all," Cordelia replied, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "We've been planning this for months. Axel just wanted it to be a surprise."

A surprise. Like everything else in my life, decided without my input, presented as a gift when it was really a cage.

I nodded and continued up the stairs, my mind racing. Four days until my acceptance letter. Three days until the ceremony. The timing couldn't be worse—or perhaps it was exactly what I needed.

In my room, I pulled out my laptop and opened a new document. If they wanted a ceremony, I'd give them one they'd never forget.

It was time to tell the truth.