The moon hung full and silver above Silverveil, casting long shadows across the ceremonial grounds where I should have been celebrating my fifteenth birthday.

Instead, I lay in my bed, my body trembling as memories that weren't mine—yet were entirely mine—flooded back like a dam bursting.

I remembered dying.

-

The taste of bitter herbs on my tongue as I wasted away, too heartbroken to eat.

The cold indifference in Aiden Vale's eyes whenever he looked at me—if he bothered to look at all. The way Seraphine had smiled at my funeral, her hand possessively wrapped around his arm.

My hands clutched the bedsheets as the full weight of my previous life crashed over me.

Twenty-three years of being the unwanted mate, the forgotten half-sister, the girl who died because she couldn't bear to live unloved anymore.

The mate bond that had felt like chains around my soul, binding me to someone who wished I didn't exist.

But I was fifteen again. The marking ceremony where Aiden would claim me—where I would foolishly believe it meant he cared—was still months away.

This time would be different.

I sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs. Through my window, I could hear the distant sounds of the full moon celebration continuing below.

Pack members howled in harmony, their voices rising to honor the moon goddess. In my past life, I had missed this ceremony because I was too shy, too afraid of drawing attention to myself.

What a fool I had been.

The door to my room creaked open, and my mother Lydia peered in, her face etched with concern. "Elara? You've been so quiet tonight. Are you feeling unwell?"

I studied her face—the same gentle features, the same worried eyes that had watched me waste away in my previous life. She looked so young, unburdened by the years of watching her daughter slowly die of a broken heart.

"I'm fine, Mother," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Just tired."

She stepped into the room, her silk nightgown rustling. "The pack is asking for you. It's traditional for those coming of age to—"

"I know." I swung my legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be down soon."

Lydia hesitated, then moved closer. "Elara, there's something I should tell you. Alpha Thorne received word today. The Vale delegation will arrive next week for the pack assembly."

My blood turned to ice. Even though I had expected this—had lived through this before—hearing it confirmed made my stomach lurch.

"Aiden Vale is coming," I said, not a question.

My mother's eyes widened slightly at my tone. "Yes. He's... he's coming with a marriage proposal."

In my past life, I had been thrilled by this news. I had spent hours imagining what it would be like to be chosen, to be wanted. I had been such a naive child.

"For Seraphine, I assume," I said flatly.

Lydia's face crumpled with something that looked like guilt. "Elara, you know the politics involved. The Vale pack is powerful, and an alliance would—"

"Would secure our pack's future." I finished her sentence, the words tasting like ash. "I understand, Mother. Seraphine is the obvious choice. She's beautiful, well-trained, and Father's acknowledged daughter."

"You're my daughter too," Lydia whispered, her voice breaking.

I looked at her—really looked at her—and saw something I had missed in my previous life. Pain. Secrets. A sadness that went deeper than just concern for her daughter's marriage prospects.

"I know," I said softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "And I love you for it. But we both know how this works."

After she left, I stood at my window and stared out at the pack lands stretching beyond the ceremonial grounds. Somewhere out there, Aiden Vale was traveling toward us, probably planning how to win Seraphine's hand while dreading the possibility of being stuck with me instead.

Let him have her, I thought fiercely. This time, I won't be anyone's consolation prize.

The week passed in a blur of preparations. The pack house was scrubbed until it gleamed, the finest tapestries were hung in the great hall, and the kitchens worked around the clock preparing for the feast that would welcome our distinguished guests.

Seraphine was in her element, preening and preparing like she was getting ready for her coronation. She spent hours with the seamstresses, selecting the perfect gown, the perfect jewelry, the perfect everything to catch the eye of the southern Alpha heir.

I watched her preparations with detached interest, remembering how jealous I had been the first time around. How I had cried myself to sleep, knowing I could never compete with her golden beauty and effortless charm.

Now I felt... nothing. Or perhaps relief. Let her have the spotlight. I had other plans.

The day of the Vale delegation's arrival dawned bright and clear. I dressed simply in a blue gown that brought out my eyes but wasn't flashy enough to draw unwanted attention. I braided my dark hair back in a practical style and avoided the jewelry that Seraphine had rejected as "not quite right."

When the horns sounded, announcing the arrival of our guests, I took my place in the receiving line with the rest of the pack leadership. Seraphine stood radiant beside Alpha Thorne, her father, while I remained in the background with my mother.

Exactly where I wanted to be.

The great doors of the pack house swung open, and the Vale delegation entered in a procession of power and wealth. Their clothes were finer than anything we owned, their bearing proud and confident. At their head walked a man I recognized as Alpha Marcus Vale, Aiden's father, his silver hair gleaming and his presence commanding respect.

But my eyes were drawn to the figure beside him.

Aiden Vale had grown since I last saw him in my previous life. He was taller, broader through the shoulders, his dark hair longer and his jaw more defined. He wore his authority like a second skin, every inch the future Alpha. Handsome, powerful, and completely aware of it.

In my past life, the sight of him had made my heart race with excitement and nervousness. Now, looking at him, I felt only a cold, clinical assessment. He was still beautiful, still charismatic. Still the man who would break my heart if I let him.

I wouldn't let him.

The formal introductions began, Alpha Thorne presenting his family and key pack members. When it came time for Seraphine to be introduced, she stepped forward with a perfect curtsy, her smile dazzling.

"Alpha Vale, may I present my daughter, Seraphine," Alpha Thorne announced with obvious pride.

Aiden's eyes fixed on her immediately, and I saw the spark of interest there. Just as it had been before. Just as I had known it would be.

Good, I thought. Let the dance begin.

When my turn came, I stepped forward with a simple bow of my head. "And this is Lydia's daughter, Elara," Alpha Thorne said, his tone noticeably cooler.

Aiden's gaze shifted to me, and for just a moment, our eyes met.

The world seemed to stop.

I saw recognition flicker across his features—not the recognition of meeting someone new, but the deeper, more disturbing recognition of someone remembering something they shouldn't be able to remember. His eyes widened slightly, his confident mask slipping for just an instant.

He remembered too.

He remembered our previous life, our failed bond, my death. He remembered it all.

The realization hit me like a physical blow, but I kept my expression carefully neutral. I had suspected this might be the case—that if I had been reborn with my memories, he might have been too. But suspecting and knowing were two very different things.

Aiden's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he gave me the barest nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention back to Seraphine.

But I had seen enough.

We were both players in this game now, both armed with knowledge of how it had ended before. The only question was: what would we do differently this time?

As the delegation was escorted to their quarters to rest before the evening's feast, I slipped away from the crowd. I needed time to think, to plan, to prepare for whatever came next.

Because one thing was certain: this time, I would not be a victim of fate.

This time, I would write my own ending.

The realization that Aiden remembered our past life should have terrified me. Instead, as I walked through the corridors of the pack house, I found myself almost... relieved.

His rejection, while it stung with familiar pain, was actually the key to my freedom.

I paused by a window overlooking the gardens, watching servants scurry about preparing for tonight's welcome feast. In my previous life, I had spent weeks agonizing over what Aiden's arrival meant, dreaming foolish dreams about fate and destiny. Now I could see the situation with crystal clarity.

If Aiden pursued Seraphine—which his lingering gaze at her had already confirmed he would—then the political marriage my family was orchestrating would fall apart naturally. Alpha Thorne couldn't very well force me into a union with a man who was publicly courting my half-sister. It would be a humiliation he'd never recover from.

Aiden's obsession with Seraphine was my ticket out of this place.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in," I called, turning from the window.

To my surprise, it wasn't a servant who entered, but Seraphine herself. Her golden hair was perfectly arranged, her silk dress the color of summer roses, but her expression was anything but serene.

"We need to talk," she said, closing the door behind her with more force than necessary.

I kept my face carefully neutral. "Of course. What about?"

Her green eyes narrowed as she studied me. "I saw you."

"Saw me doing what?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Elara." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I saw Aiden seeking you out after the introductions. I saw the way he looked at you."

My heart skipped, but I forced myself to remain calm. She must have been watching from somewhere when Aiden had cornered me in the empty corridor, when he'd made his demands and threats. But she couldn't have heard what was said—if she had, she'd know there was nothing for her to worry about.

"I don't know what you think you saw—"

"I saw enough." Her voice turned sharp as broken glass. "You're trying to steal him from me."

The accusation was so absurd I almost laughed. If only she knew that Aiden had spent those precious minutes warning me to stay away from him, threatening me with consequences if I interfered with his pursuit of her.

"Seraphine, I would never—"

"Wouldn't you?" She circled me like a predator, her silk skirts rustling. "You've always been jealous of me. Always wanted what I had. And now the most eligible Alpha heir in the southern territories is here, and you think this is your chance."

I met her gaze steadily. "Aiden Vale came here for you. Everyone knows that."

"Then why was he talking to you privately? Why did he look at you like..." She trailed off, her jaw clenching.

Like he knew me, I finished silently. Like he remembered.

"I don't know what you think you saw," I repeated, "but I assure you, I have no interest in interfering with your courtship."

It was the truth, but Seraphine's expression only grew more suspicious.

"Good," she said finally. "Because I won't let you ruin this for me. I won't let you take what's mine."

After she left, I sank into the chair by my window, my hands trembling slightly. I had forgotten how paranoid Seraphine could be, how her jealousy could twist even innocent interactions into threats. In my past life, her suspicion had made my existence miserable even before the mate bond ceremony.

This time, I would have to be even more careful.

The evening feast was a grand affair. The great hall had been transformed with silk banners in the Vale colors, and the long tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh bread, and delicacies imported from across the territory. The air hummed with conversation and laughter as pack members mingled with their distinguished guests.

I had chosen my outfit carefully—a simple green dress that complemented my dark hair without being flashy enough to draw attention. I took my assigned seat at the far end of the high table, safely away from the center of attention where Seraphine held court beside Aiden.

From my vantage point, I could watch the elaborate dance of courtship playing out exactly as it had before. Seraphine was radiant, her laughter musical as she charmed the visiting Alpha heir. Aiden seemed genuinely captivated, his dark eyes following her every movement.

Perfect.

The evening progressed smoothly until the dancing began. As was traditional, Alpha Thorne opened the floor with his mate, followed by the other ranking members of both packs. I remained seated, content to observe from the sidelines.

That's when I noticed the servant approaching with a tray of wine glasses.

"For you, miss," the young woman said, offering me a crystal goblet filled with deep red wine.

I started to decline—I rarely drank at formal functions—but something in her nervous demeanor made me pause. Her hands shook slightly as she held the tray, and she avoided meeting my eyes.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the glass.

As the servant hurried away, I caught sight of Seraphine watching me from across the room. There was something in her expression—a anticipation that made my stomach clench with sudden dread.

I looked down at the wine in my hands, the deep red liquid catching the candlelight. It looked normal, smelled normal, but...

A memory surfaced from my past life. Not of this exact moment, but of other times when Seraphine's cruelty had been disguised as accidents or coincidences. The way she could orchestrate humiliation while keeping her own hands clean.

I should have set the glass down. Should have trusted my instincts.

Instead, habit and social conditioning won out. When Alpha Marcus Vale approached our table and raised his own glass in a toast to the alliance between our packs, I lifted mine along with everyone else.

The wine hit my tongue with a bitter aftertaste that definitely hadn't been there when I'd smelled it. By then, it was too late.

The world tilted sideways almost immediately. My vision blurred, and when I tried to stand, my legs betrayed me. The crystal goblet slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers, and I watched in slow-motion horror as it tumbled toward my white dress.

The red wine splashed across the pristine fabric like blood, staining the silk beyond redemption. But worse than the ruined dress was the way I stumbled, my drug-addled reflexes failing me as I crashed into the table behind me, sending plates and glasses clattering to the floor.

The great hall fell silent.

Every eye turned toward me as I stood there swaying, wine dripping from my dress, my face burning with humiliation. The whispers started immediately—cruel, cutting observations about my clumsiness, my inability to handle her drink, my obvious attempt to draw attention to myself.

Through the haze of whatever Seraphine had slipped into my wine, I saw Aiden watching from the dance floor. For a moment, our eyes met across the crowded room. I saw recognition there—not just of who I was, but of what was happening. He knew this was deliberate. He knew Seraphine was behind it.

And he did nothing.

He simply turned away, leading Seraphine back into the dance as if I didn't exist.

Just like before. Just like it had always been.

I stood there in the center of the ballroom, wine staining my dress and dignity in tatters, while the pack that should have protected me laughed at my downfall.

But this time, instead of tears, I felt only cold, crystalline resolve.

Let them laugh. Let Seraphine have her moment of triumph.

I would remember this. And when the time came to leave this place forever, I would remember exactly why I could never look back.

The days following the feast blurred together in a haze of humiliation and cold determination. Word of my "drunken display" had spread through the pack like wildfire, each retelling more embellished than the last. By the third day, I had supposedly thrown myself at Aiden's feet, begging him to choose me over Seraphine.

The lies should have hurt more than they did.

Instead, each whispered insult, each pitying look, each cruel laugh only strengthened the wall of ice forming around my heart. I had lived through this before—the slow erosion of dignity, the systematic destruction of my place in the pack. But this time, I wasn't a naive girl hoping things would get better.

This time, I was planning my escape.

I spent my mornings in the pack library, ostensibly studying healing herbs but actually researching the northern territories. Which packs were accepting refugees. Which routes were safest for lone wolves. How much coin I would need to start over somewhere far from here.

My afternoons were spent with my mother, helping her tend to her small garden behind the pack house. Lydia had grown quieter since the feast, her worried glances following me wherever I went. She knew something had changed in me, but she didn't ask questions I wasn't ready to answer.

"The lavender is blooming beautifully this year," she said softly, her fingers gentle as she pruned the purple stalks.

I knelt beside her, my hands working automatically while my mind calculated travel times and supply costs. "It is. We should harvest some for sachets before the first frost."

"Elara." Her voice was careful, controlled. "About what happened at the feast..."

"It's forgotten," I lied smoothly. "These things happen."

She studied my profile, and I could feel the weight of her concern. "You've been different since that night. Distant."

I met her eyes, seeing my own dark hair and pale skin reflected in her features. In my past life, I had never noticed how much sadness she carried, how her smiles never quite reached her eyes.

"I'm fine, Mother. Just... learning to see things more clearly."

Before she could respond, the sharp click of heels on stone announced an unwelcome visitor. Seraphine appeared around the corner of the garden path, resplendent in a gown of pale yellow silk that made her look like captured sunlight.

"How domestic," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Playing in the dirt suits you, sister."

Lydia's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. In the pack hierarchy, Seraphine outranked us both.

"Did you need something?" I asked, not bothering to stand or brush the soil from my hands.

Seraphine's green eyes glittered with malicious pleasure. "Actually, yes. I wanted to personally invite you to tomorrow's hunt."

My blood turned to ice. "Hunt?"

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Her smile was razor-sharp. "I've organized a special competition for our visiting Alphas. An old tradition—Alpha's Hunt. The bravest wolves will chase prey through the forest, and whoever catches their quarry wins a prize."

The way she said 'prey' made my skin crawl. "How... traditional."

"Isn't it?" Seraphine stepped closer, her perfume cloying in the afternoon air. "Of course, we needed suitable prey for such distinguished hunters. Something... challenging."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. "No."

"Oh yes." Her voice was pure silk wrapped around steel. "You'll be the prize, dear sister. Whoever catches you gets to keep you."

Lydia shot to her feet, soil scattering from her skirts. "Seraphine, that's barbaric. Elara is not some animal to be hunted."

"Isn't she?" Seraphine's laugh was musical and cruel. "She's unwed, unclaimed, and frankly, becoming quite the burden on the pack. This way, she'll finally serve a useful purpose."

"The pack council would never approve such a thing," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Wouldn't they?" Seraphine pulled a scroll from her sleeve, unfurling it with theatrical flourish. "Alpha Thorne's seal. The visiting Alphas were quite enthusiastic about the idea when I proposed it. Apparently, it's been centuries since anyone organized a proper hunt."

I stared at the official seal, my father's signature stark black against the parchment. He had signed away my freedom, my safety, my very life for the entertainment of his guests.

"The hunt begins at dawn," Seraphine continued, her voice bright with false cheer. "You'll have a head start, of course. We're not completely unreasonable. But after that..." She shrugged delicately. "May the best Alpha win."

She turned to leave, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Oh, and Elara? Do try to put up a good fight. It's so much more entertaining when the prey struggles."

After she was gone, Lydia and I stood in stunned silence among the lavender and herbs. The peaceful garden suddenly felt like a cage, the pack house looming over us like a prison.

"We have to stop this," Lydia whispered, her face pale as parchment.

"How?" The word came out harsher than I intended. "You saw the seal. Father has already decided."

"I'll talk to him. I'll make him see reason."

I caught her hand, squeezing gently. "Mother, when has Alpha Thorne ever changed his mind once it's made? Especially when it involves choosing between his acknowledged daughter and his wife's bastard?"

The cruel words hung between us, but they were true. We both knew it.

That evening, Lydia did try to speak with Alpha Thorne. I heard their voices through the walls of his study—her pleading, his dismissive responses. When she emerged an hour later, her eyes were red-rimmed and defeated.

"He says it's already arranged," she said quietly. "The other Alphas are expecting it. To cancel now would be... insulting."

"And my life is less important than their entertainment."

She pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. "I'm so sorry, my darling. I'm so sorry."

I let her hold me, but my mind was already racing ahead to tomorrow.

In my past life, I had never faced anything like this—Seraphine's cruelties had been more subtle then, more psychological than physical.

But I should have expected her to escalate, especially with Aiden's obvious preference for her fueling her confidence.

The hunt would begin at dawn.

Would I be able to survive it?