Beatrice POV:

The rain fell not in sheets but as a persistent, drilling force, each drop a cold weight against the stone courtyard. My silk dress clung to me, heavy and freezing. The cold crept up my legs, numbing my flesh. I kept my back perfectly straight as I knelt before the Queen's closed doors. Every drop felt like a reminder of the tears I'd wasted in my past life.

As I stared at the dark wooden doors, my mind drifted back to the first time I lived through this night. In my past life, when Edward gave the necklace to Cynthia, I hadn't stayed calm. I had been furious. My inner wolf hadn't roared—she'd thrashed against the cage of my ribs with wild, uncontrollable anger.

I remembered stepping forward, eyes blazing, pointing a trembling finger at Cynthia. "She's a rogue!" I had screamed in front of the entire pack. A rogue—a wolf without a pack, a wanderer who survived by stealing and killing. The lowest of the low. "She's masking her true scent with mud and moonlace root!" I'd yelled, exposing her secret to everyone. That rare herb was cunning; it mimicked an Omega's natural calming pheromones so perfectly that only a wolf who already knew the truth could detect the deception.

I had turned to Edward, heart breaking, demanding justice. "Saving her life is one thing. Bringing her into our pack is an insult. Giving her the Luna seat is a curse from the Moon Goddess herself!"

Cynthia had played her part flawlessly. Her face went pale. She swayed on her feet, acting fragile, terrified. She looked so weak, so pitiful, that the Alpha and Beta males immediately felt the urge to protect her. But I had the nobles on my side. I had my family's immense power. The high-ranking wolves bared their fangs at Edward, growling deep enough to vibrate through the floorboards. They pressured him, forced him to honor the bloodline rules.

Edward had stood there, surrounded by angry growls. I remembered the look in his eyes—not hatred, but a cold, silent promise of retribution. He hated me for forcing his hand. He hated my family for being stronger than his royal authority. But he had no choice. He snatched the moonstone necklace back from Cynthia, walked over to me with his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would break, forced a fake smile, and placed the necklace around my neck. Then he shoved the cheap silver hairpin into my hand.

I had stood there, wearing the moonstone, feeling a sick sense of victory. I thought I'd won. I thought the pack's rules and my noble blood had secured my future. I was so foolish. I didn't realize that forcing an Alpha to submit in front of his pack is a death sentence. An Alpha's pride is his core. Break it, and he will spend the rest of his life trying to break you.

That night, I had won the title of future Luna. But I had also sown the seeds for my own brutal murder and the slaughter of my entire family.

A loud crack of thunder jolted me back to the present. I blinked rainwater from my eyes. My knees ached against the hard stone. This time, I didn't fight for the necklace. I let them have it. I let Cynthia take the crushing burden of managing a pack she knew nothing about. I let Edward have his fragile Omega so he could feel like a strong, unquestioned savior. By accepting his rejection, I had stepped off their sinking ship.

But walking away wasn't enough. Not after what they did to me. I needed to protect my father and my brothers. I needed to ensure my family's warriors were never used as stepping stones for Edward's ambition again. And more than anything, I needed to watch Edward and Cynthia lose everything they loved.

I shivered in the cold wind, but a dark smile touched my lips. The rain tasted of wet granite and decay, but to me, it was the clean taste of a slate wiped bare. I would kneel here until the Queen opened her doors. I would use her anger and her pity to build my new path. I closed my eyes, letting the storm rage around me, ready for the long night ahead.

Beatrice POV:

The storm showed no signs of stopping. Lightning slashed across the dark sky, casting long, sharp shadows across the courtyard. My body was trembling violently now. The cold had seeped deep into my joints. But the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the phantom pains echoing in my memory.

Kneeling here in the dark, my mind was forced to relive the horrors that followed my "victory" in my past life.

I remembered the day Edward and I completed our mating ceremony and moved into the East Castle. Supposed to be a day of joy. Cynthia ensured it was a waking nightmare. Just as the ceremony ended, she threw herself into the deep, rushing water of the castle moat. Edward panicked. He dove in and rescued her, holding her wet, shivering body while the entire pack watched. That night, he came to my bed reeking of the river and of her. He forced his wolf to consummate our marriage, but his eyes were empty. His mind was with the Omega in the healing ward.

Soon after, the true, patient cruelty of his nature began to show. A high-ranking Beta noticed Cynthia and announced his intention to claim and mark her as his mate. The very next morning, that Beta was found dead, drowned in the foul waste pool behind the stables. Everyone whispered, but no one dared accuse the Crown Prince.

Then, Edward and the corrupt pack Elders fabricated a new history for Cynthia. They forged documents claiming she wasn't a rogue but the lost pup of a deceased noble family. They washed away her filthy past with lies.

Months later, I finally became pregnant. I was carrying a high-tier royal pup. Edward used my pregnancy as an excuse. He said border wolves were rebelling and he needed to fight. When he returned, he brought Cynthia with him into the main castle. "You need to rest, Beatrice," he told me, his voice dripping with false Alpha concern. "Cynthia will handle the Luna duties while you grow our child." A trap. He stripped me of my power while smiling at me.

Once Cynthia had the keys to the castle, my life became a living hell. She controlled the food. A pregnant female werewolf needs massive amounts of fresh, raw meat to sustain the pup's rapid growth. Cynthia gave me cooked scraps and old bones. She claimed the winter stores were low. I was starving. My wolf was weakening.

One afternoon, I stormed into Edward's study to demand proper food. When I opened the door, they were sitting on opposite sides of the room, but their eyes were locked—glazed, unblinking, carrying an entire silent conversation that needed no words. The sickening intimacy of two souls already entwined, sharing thoughts in a way that should have been reserved for a marked bond. Seeing that silent intimacy broke something inside me. I started throwing things. I smashed his expensive wine glasses against the stone wall. Cynthia immediately threw herself to the floor, pretending I'd pushed her. "Edward, help me!" she cried, clutching her ankle.

Edward's eyes turned pitch black. He unleashed his Alpha's Command—not a weight, but a soundless concussion that struck the air around me, forcing the breath from my lungs. The force of his anger hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled backward and fell hard onto the wooden floor. A sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I looked down and saw blood soaking through my dress.

He confined me to my room after that. The healers brought me bitter medicine every day to calm my womb. I drank it, praying to the Moon Goddess to save my baby. But Cynthia had bribed the healers. They were mixing substantial doses of silver powder into my drink—enough to accumulate in my blood over weeks until it reached lethal concentration. Silver burns us. It destroys our cells. Ingesting it is a slow, agonizing death. At seven months, my pup died inside me. I delivered a silent, stillborn child in a room that smelled of blood and iron and bitter herbs.

Queen Eleanor was furious. She argued violently with the Alpha King about Edward's behavior. The stress, combined with old hatreds, caused her heart to fail. The healers whispered that the old silver scars hidden beneath her gown had never truly healed—the poison from an arrow she took decades ago had been slowly calcifying around her heart. She died a few weeks later. With my aunt gone, my greatest shield was shattered.

Later, Cynthia also suffered a miscarriage. But she didn't blame the Moon Goddess. She blamed me. And Edward believed her. He believed my family had cursed his true love.

A violent shiver racked my body as the rain poured over me. I dug my nails into my own palms until the skin broke. The slight sting of my own blood grounded me. I will never let them touch my family again. I will never let them near my womb again.