The howl of the werewolves pierced the night as the fiftieth - year - old alpha announced his grand consort mates selection.

In the dimly lit chamber, my mother's trembling hands replaced my cousin's name on the list with mine.

Her eyes glistened with crocodile tears,.​

"Lenore, your cousin is as innocent as a new - born cub. She lacks your wiles. I've bribed the right wolves. You just need to go through the motions in the consort mate selection. Once you're rejected, I'll come for you, and we'll be a family again with your little brother."​

In my past life, I had fallen for these honeyed words.

After being rejected and forced into servitude as a palace maid, no one came for me.

I counted the days, each night haunted by the distant howls of the werewolf pack outside the palace walls.

When I finally completed my three - year sentence and returned home, it was to witness my cousin's wedding to my betrothed.​

My mother blocked the doorway, her eyes cold as the full moon.

"This is your cousin's big day. Can't you see you're not welcome?"​

I was cast out, left to wander the streets until my life ebbed away. And now, as I opened my eyes once more, I heard those fateful words again: "Lenore, can you take your cousin's place in the palace?"​

"Very well!"

My voice sliced through the silence, sharp as a blade.

The crowd before me froze, their expressions a tableau of shock.

My mother, Mrs. Kasdorf, blinked back tears, her voice trembling with doubt:

"Do you truly mean it, Lenore?"

My younger brother Joseph eyed me with suspicion, his lip curled.

"Since when have you been so charitable?"

I dropped my gaze, letting my lashes veil the fire in my eyes.

"If you doubt me, I shall stay. No loss on my part."

Mother dashed away her tears, her words tripping over themselves.

"Joseph was jesting! If only Amy had half your wit, you wouldn't need to take her place." She forced a smile, her hands fluttering.

"You've always been our dutiful girl. It's late-we'll let you rest."

As their footsteps faded, the room swallowed me in silence.

I flung open the window, and sure enough, shadows of servants prowled the courtyard like sentinels.

A humorless laugh escaped me. What choice did I have?

In my first life, I'd refused.

I had a betrothal, a fiancé due to arrive in three moons.

But the next day, news spread that Amy had thrown herself into the lake.

Joseph had burst into my chamber, dragging me from my bed in my shift, his voice a growl: "Must you drive her to death?"

Mother had wept, her words a dagger:

"Remember-Amy's father died saving you. You swore to protect her."

From age six, I'd been taught Amy was a fragile orphan, owed my kindness.

Her Candy, her embroidered nightgown, her jewels.

Even in the palace, where I'd spent three years as a pawn, I'd never breathed a word against her.

My nails dug into my palms.

This time, I'll not be a fool.

That night, the moon rose full, its glow pooling like silver blood on my windowsill.

The next day, Mother sent fabrics and jewels.

The maid chirped: "Even Cousin Amy hasn't seen such fine silks!" I smiled thinly. No, she's received something far deadlier.

On the day of the draft, I did not hide.

I dressed in midnight velvet, my hair coiled with pins.

Among the trembling girls at the palace gates, some wept, some stared blankly.

All knew the alpha was a lecherous old fool-only the Flower Envoy's threats had dragged us here.

As the scarlet gates creaked open, a man stepped forth.

Clad in midnight silk, his posture sinuous, was Doug Leffler, the alpha's right-hand man.

When his eyes met mine, I felt a jolt.

As we filed past, I couldn't resist a backward glance.

This man, rumored to be a snake in the grass, had been my only warmth in those three hellish years.

As I returned from the palace, my maid sprinted toward me, her eyes wild. "Miss-you weren't chosen, were you?"

I said nothing, merely gestured. "Pack those fabrics Mother sent. I'm visiting Cousin Amy."

Amy Kasdorf resided in Sunflower Palace-a grand courtyard, once mine, until she'd cooed about its beauty at age ten. Even now, before I crossed the threshold, their voices slithered through the door.

"Auntie, I heard the girl who can't be choice must serve as maids for years. Do you resent me for not going myself?" Amy's voice was honeyed.

"Never, my dear. You deserve a prince, not that decrepit alpha. Besides, your cousin's stubbornness will keep her busy." Mother's tone dripped with affection. "See this soft silk? I saved it for you."

"I love it, Auntie!"

I stared at the closed door, memories clawing up.

Inside, Mother sang Amy to sleep; outside, my hand hovered, too afraid to knock.

Once, I'd begged for a lullaby.

"You're too old for such things," she'd snapped.

Amy was only a year younger.

I rapped sharply. "Mother."

Silence. When the door opened, Mother forced a smile.

"I thought you preferred plain clothes, so I gave these to Amy."

"Since when do you know my tastes?" My gaze pinned her.

She frowned. "You never wear bright colors-"

She'd forgotten the day Amy whined I "stole her style" after we wore matching gowns.

Mother had banned all vibrant hues from my wardrobe, leaving me in ashes.

Amy piped up, all innocence:

"If you want the fabrics, take them-"

"You're too kind," Mother cooed, glaring at me.

"No need." I held out the bundle.

"These are for you, too."

Mother's scowl lifted. "At last, some sense-"

"I came to discuss Father's shops in the east. I want them before entering the palace."

Her nostrils flared.

"Those are your dowry! Are you trying to split the family?"

Your dowry will go to Amy.

I smiled thinly. "By the time I return, I'll be past marriageable age. I need security."

Amy cut in, eyes glinting:

"Auntie would never cheat you."

Mother's chest heaved.

"You blame me for the draft? It's a mere formality-"

"Let Amy go in my place, and I'll forget the shops."

Amy's smile vanished.

Mother seethed, "Fine! For your obedience, you'll have them."

"Thank you, Mother."

I curtsied and turned, catching her final sneer:

"Obsessed with coin-nothing like my Amy."

As I walked, a chill crawled up my spine.

"Auntie, wealth means nothing to me. One day, Cousin will understand your kindness."

My steps halted.

I spun, flung the door open. "Oh, and Mother-Sunflower Palace was mine, decreed by Father. Amy has borrowed it long enough. Time to return it."

I paced forward, voice like ice.

"And the pearl powder, the iridescent silk, the blue jade-all from my allowance, no? After a decade of 'loaning' them, I'd like them back. Fair, wouldn't you say?"

With each item named, Mother's face darkened.

Amy's lips turned ashy, but she croaked: "Fair."

I leaned in, smile sharp.

"Return them promptly. When I'm cross, I babble-wouldn't want to disturb palace nobles, hm?"

Fearing I'd spill secrets, Amy's servants fled within hours.

Alone in Sunflower Palace, I traced the familiar eaves.

The sunset gauze had faded, no longer shimmering like the memory of Father's laughter.

In the storeroom, I unearthed relics: his wooden bow, the swing he built, a birthday gift- a toy sword and military scrolls.

Once, I was the general's jewel.

He'd hoist me high, teach me sparring; Mother served melons, laughing as Joseph brandished his own stick-sword.

"Joseph, master the blade to protect your sister," Father had said.

I'd bounced: "No! I'll protect you!"

Laughter had filled the yard. When did it all curdle?

Perhaps the day the sun set like blood, the day Mother led Amy through the gates. We'd both lost fathers, but only Amy gained a family.

I stored the relics in the annex, heart heavy.

That night, dreams twisted: wolves chasing me through halls, their howls blending with Father's voice.

Dawn barely cracked when a crash jolted me.

"Lenore Smith! Show yourself!"

"You think one good deed lets you steal Amy's home? Cut off her allowance?"

"Ungrateful wretch!"

I stepped outside to carnage.

My father's relics lay destroyed: scrolls torn, the toy sword notched. Joseph stood in scarlet, sword in hand, sneering: "Trash like this belongs in the dump."

"Your 'sacrifice' means nothing. Mother wanted Zito for Amy, but you stole him! Now the Kasdorf force her into the draft-this is your debt."

My palm snapped across his cheek. The slap echoed.

Joseph gaped, stunned. I'd never struck him, but this boy-destroying Father's legacy, spitting venom-was a stranger.

When had he become this? The first time he blushed for Amy? The first time he accused me of cruelty?

"How-how dare you!" he snarled, chest heaving.

My hand rose again, faster than a wolf's strike.

This time, his cheek bore my print-and something else.