It had been eight years since my mate, Miguel Howard, had died. Or so I thought.

Until he returned, alive and well, now the Alpha of the Moonlight Pack, with a new mate and a son by his side. With a single declaration, he stripped me of my title as Luna, reduced me to an Omega, and seized the wealth and resources I had painstakingly built over the years. His parents, my former in-laws, stood by silently, offering no defense. When I tried to appeal to the Lycan King for justice, they conspired to silence me. On a stormy night, they weighted me with stones and pushed me into the icy depths of the lake. The cold water bit into my skin, the mud clinging to me like the hatred I carried.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day news of Miguel’s death had first arrived.

---

"Estella, what’s done is done. You must accept it and move on," my stepmother, Aniyah Graham, said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "From now on, you’ll stay here and mourn Miguel properly. No need to worry about your family back in the Moonlight Pack."

"Aniyah, you don’t need to concern yourself with Estella’s future," my mother-in-law, Aniyah Graham, interjected coldly. "Miguel may be gone, but we’ll treat her as our own daughter. She’ll never be a burden to you or your pack."

Aniyah flushed, stammering, "I didn’t mean it like that—"

But Aniyah had already turned to the gathered pack members, her voice ringing out. "Packmates, bear witness! My son, Miguel Howard, has fallen in battle. From this day forward, my daughter-in-law, Estella Henderson, will be as dear to me as my own blood. As long as I have a place in this pack, she will too!"

Then, with a sharp tone, she dismissed Aniyah. "You’re no longer welcome here. Our packs are far apart, and there’s no need for further contact."

I stood there, my face expressionless, as the memories of my previous life flooded back. My mother had died when I was five, and within months, my father had taken Aniyah as his new mate. She had always treated me poorly, especially after she gave birth to her own children. When I mated Miguel, he left for a border skirmish just three days later. Word had come back that he’d been promoted to a Gamma under the Alpha’s second-in-command. The Moonlight Pack had been hopeful of his rise. But then the news of his death arrived, and Aniyah’s true colors showed. She’d come rushing in, eager to sever ties with me, afraid I’d return and become a burden to her family.

In my previous life, Aniyah had stood by me like this, and I’d believed her sincerity. I’d stayed with the pack, worked tirelessly to build a life, and cared for my in-laws as if they were my own parents. It wasn’t until my death that I realized her true motives. The day after Miguel’s memorial, a rogue had tried to assault me, and I’d fought him off with my claws. Aniyah had brushed it off, saying it would damage my reputation if word got out. Later, I’d learned the rogue had been sent by her. Months after that, I’d been drugged and nearly attacked again, only to be saved by a passing healer. Aniyah had feigned concern, but I’d discovered she’d orchestrated it all.

Miguel had been their only heir, and Aniyah’s kindness had been a ruse to keep me close—to ensure I’d bear a child for their bloodline. Widows seeking heirs wasn’t uncommon, but they’d feared I’d bond with the sire and leave with the child. So they’d resorted to such vile schemes. When I’d built my own wealth and hired guards to protect myself, they’d suggested I take a new mate. I’d trusted them then, blind to their true intentions, and refused. The Moon Goddess must have pitied my naivety, giving me this second chance.

After Aniyah left, Aniyah clung to me, sobbing her grief into my shoulder. I held her, patting her back, my heart cold and calculating. I knew exactly what I had to do.

Miguel Howard’s body was never recovered, so we erected a memorial for him instead. With the help of the pack elders and neighbors, the funeral arrangements were swiftly made. As for the burial site, there was no need to choose—it would be in the Howard family plot in the east of the territory.

Since the news of Miguel’s death had reached us, his father hadn’t spoken a word, his pipe burning through one pouch of tobacco after another. His mother, Aniyah, had cried herself hoarse. Both were so grief-stricken they hadn’t eaten or drunk anything.

If I hadn’t lived through this once before, I would never have believed that in the midst of such profound sorrow, they could still find the energy to plot against me. This time, though, I saw it coming. I played my part just as I had before, dressed in mourning clothes, clutching Miguel’s belongings as I wept and placed them in the grave.

On the way back, Aniyah pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at my face. “Estella,” she said, her voice trembling, “now that Miguel has been laid to rest, it’s customary to offer a tribute at his grave tomorrow. We still have some supplies at home. Would you mind preparing them? It would mean so much.”

It was true that offering a tribute at a new grave was a tradition in our pack. But it didn’t have to be homemade—a simple gift from the market would suffice. Aniyah’s request for me to prepare the tribute through the night was a ruse to exhaust me, leaving me vulnerable when the rogue attacked the next day.

In my previous life, I had obeyed her, working tirelessly until dawn. Exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep, only to wake to the sound of a shattered window as the rogue tried to break into my room. This time, I wouldn’t be so easily caught.

“Mother, I’m afraid I can’t prepare the tribute,” I said, holding up my hand. “For some reason, after we finished the burial, my right hand went numb. I can’t seem to use it.”

“What? That won’t do!” Aniyah’s voice sharpened.

I looked at her, feigning surprise.

Ahead of us, Brody coughed, a subtle warning to her.

Aniyah’s tone softened again, heavy with sorrow. “Estella, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just… I wanted Miguel to have one last tribute made by his family.”

“I wanted that too,” I said, sighing. “But my hand isn’t cooperating. What else can I do?”

“Then… perhaps you could help me?” I suggested sweetly. “You’re his mother. He’d love a tribute made by you.”

“Me? Do it alone?” Aniyah hesitated.

I nodded innocently. “Of course, I wouldn’t let you stay up all night by yourself. I’ll keep you company, use my left hand to help where I can.”

“Fine,” Aniyah relented, though I could see the strain in her face.

The preparation area was in the yard. Back at the house, Aniyah gathered the materials. By evening, the air was heavy with grief, and neither Brody nor Aniyah could bring themselves to eat.

I, on the other hand, ate heartily, urging them to do the same. “Father, Mother, you need to eat. Miguel wouldn’t want you to starve yourselves while he’s on his journey to the Moon Goddess.”

Whether they listened or not, I didn’t care. I made sure I was fed.

After dinner, Aniyah and I went to the yard to start preparing the tribute. “Estella, is your hand still numb?” she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

“Completely,” I said, sighing. “I’ve been using my left hand for everything, even eating.”

Aniyah sighed too, resigned to her fate, and began working. I used my left hand to assist, adding materials slowly to the preparation.

Every time Aniyah looked like she was tiring, I’d say, “Mother, you must be exhausted. Let’s take a break. I’m so sleepy I could doze off right here.”

Hearing this, she’d immediately speed up, insisting, “I’m not tired at all, Estella. Let’s keep going.”

By midnight, Aniyah was nodding off, her head bobbing. I yawned loudly. “Mother, we’ve prepared so much already. Isn’t this enough? Let’s finish the final touches so we can sleep. I’m so tired.”

Aniyah jolted awake. “This isn’t nearly enough! Miguel’s funeral was attended by so many from the pack. We’ll prepare enough tribute to share with everyone.”

“But Mother, I’m so sleepy. Seeing you nod off makes me even drowsier.”

“I’m wide awake,” Aniyah insisted. “Estella, if you’re tired, let’s talk. That’ll keep us both alert.”

“Alright,” I said, pretending to give in.

From then on, Aniyah worked even harder, not daring to doze off, afraid I’d take the opportunity to suggest going to bed. We worked through the night, and it wasn’t until late the next morning that the tribute was finally done.