Olivia

For years, I had been a laughingstock. Five years of engagement, and yet no marriage. The Crescent Pack whispered behind my back, their voices thick with mockery and scorn.

Then, one drunken night after the Full Moon Festival changed everything. I had woken up in Alpha Sean’s bed, my body aching, my mind clouded with confusion. And when our parents found us tangled in silk sheets, their horrified gasps sealed my fate.

The wedding was rushed. The ceremony was cold. Sean’s hatred burned hotter than any mate bond. He despised me for it, for trapping him in a union he never wanted. I had spent my past life trying to win his love, trying to prove that I was worthy of the title of his Luna. But no matter what I did, his heart had already belonged to another.

This time, I would not make the same mistakes.

That was why I stood here now, in a grand auction house filled with wealthy wolves, nobles, and Alphas, my gaze fixed on a single item on display.

A delicate bracelet, crafted from silver and embedded with a single glowing moonstone. My mother’s bracelet.

Two years before my death, my mother had passed away. Her possessions had been taken, stolen, scattered. This bracelet was all that remained of her. And I would have it back.

I stepped forward, prepared to make my bid—when a familiar scent curled through the air.

Sean.

My body stiffened, instinct screaming at me to leave before he saw me, but it was too late. He was already standing near the front, his eyes scanning the room, his posture effortlessly commanding.

And she was with him. Isabelle.

She clung to his side, her soft, innocent gaze flickering with excitement as she looked around, as if this entire auction was a grand adventure she had been blessed to witness. As if she had not spent years pretending to be helpless while stealing everything that was meant to be mine.

I clenched my fists and walked forward. “Alpha,” I called, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

He turned, a flicker of surprise in his gaze before it disappeared beneath his usual cold indifference. “Olivia.”

I didn’t waste time. “That bracelet belongs to my mother. Let me have it.”

His lips curved into something that might have been amusement if it wasn’t so cruel. “Isabelle wants it.”

The words hit me harder than they should have.

Of course. Of course, she did. Because Isabelle wanted everything I had. And Sean, blind and willing, would always give it to her.

“You can bid on something else,” he added, his tone dismissive. “There are plenty of other items here.”

“I don’t want anything else.” My voice was sharper now. “That bracelet isn’t just some trinket. It belonged to my mother. It’s—”

“Isabelle wants to experience things like this,” he interrupted, his tone gentle when he spoke of her, his golden eyes softening as he glanced down at the omega beside him. “She deserves it.”

I felt something inside me snap. I turned away, swallowing my fury, my hurt, my grief. If he wanted a fight, I would give him one.

The bidding began, and I raised my paddle immediately, my voice firm as I made my offer. For a moment, I thought it would be easy. No one else in the room seemed particularly interested. But then—

Sean placed his bid.

My stomach twisted.

I raised mine again.

Sean did the same.

Back and forth we went, my heart pounding, my breath coming short and fast as the price climbed higher, as the crowd murmured in interest.

But in the end, I lost. Sean had bid an amount I could not match.

And he won.

The bracelet was handed to him, and for a moment, hope flickered inside me. Maybe he would give it to me. Maybe, despite everything, despite the way he looked at me with such disdain, he would recognize what this meant to me.

But then he turned to Isabelle. And placed the bracelet in her hands.

The omega’s face lit up with joy as she eagerly slipped it onto her wrist, her delicate fingers playing with the smooth silver. But she was careless. She wasn’t gentle with it, wasn’t careful.

A snap echoed in the air. The moonstone cracked. The bracelet broke apart, the delicate silver chain snapping, the pieces clattering to the floor.

I stared.

The room blurred around me.

Isabelle gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh no… Olivia, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

I didn’t stay to listen. I gathered the broken fragments in trembling hands, clutching them to my chest, and walked away.

I did not cry. Not when I left the auction house. Not when I returned to the packhouse. Not even when Isabelle, guilt-ridden and teary-eyed, fell to her knees on the cold marble floor, begging for forgiveness.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she whispered. “I swear, Olivia, I—I’ll make it up to you.”

I ignored her.

And when she, in a desperate attempt to prove her remorse, knelt in salt, letting the grains bite into her skin as she begged for my forgiveness—I still ignored her.

The rain came. A storm rolled in, heavy and relentless, drenching her small form as she remained kneeling in the courtyard, shivering from the cold.

I did not care.

I slept soundly that night. And when I woke to the sound of commotion—when I stepped outside and saw the frantic pack members gathered around Isabelle’s collapsed form—I did not feel a single ounce of pity.

But Sean did.

He stormed toward me, his eyes burning with fury. “Are you satisfied now?” His voice was sharp, biting. “Are you happy, Olivia? You let her kneel there all night until she collapsed!”

I stared at him, at the way he looked at me with such disgust, as if I was the cruelest being in existence.

And I thought of my past life.

A slow smile curled my lips.

“Who,” I murmured, stepping closer until our faces were inches apart, “do you think is more cruel, Alpha?”

Olivia

The flames flickered hungrily, devouring every trace of the past I had once clung to.

Silk dresses, fine jewelry, delicate perfumes—all the gifts I had received throughout my engagement with Alpha Sean, all reduced to ashes. Not because they meant anything to me, but because they never had. None of them were given out of love, only obligation. Sean had never chosen them himself; his parents had forced him, pushed the illusion of a perfect union while he barely even looked my way.

I had been a fool once. I had thought that even if he did not love me, time would change things. I had believed that duty and loyalty would eventually turn into something more.

But love did not grow where there was only hatred.

The fire crackled as I watched the last of the silk ribbons curl and blacken. Yet, among the destruction, there was one thing I did not burn.

The Crescent Pack’s heirloom.

A pendant, heavy with history, adorned with the sigil of the pack. The symbol of the future Luna. A title I would never bear.

I clenched the pendant in my fist. This was never mine to keep. With the heirloom in hand, I turned on my heel and made my way toward Sean’s chambers.

The corridor was dimly lit, the soft glow of the torches casting flickering shadows along the stone walls. My footsteps were silent, my presence concealed, instincts sharpening as I approached his room.

The door was ajar.

Voices drifted into the hallway, hushed but urgent. I stilled, my breath caught in my throat. Isabelle was inside.

I could already picture it—the omega curled in his arms, seeking his warmth, his comfort. Just like she always had.

My fingers tightened around the heirloom as I stepped closer, remaining hidden in the shadows.

“I-I’m scared,” Isabelle’s voice trembled, thick with tears. “What about… what about our baby? What if Olivia gets pregnant after the mating ceremony? What will happen to our child then?”

My blood ran cold.

Baby?

I swallowed, my pulse hammering as I braced myself for Sean’s response.

His voice was steady, reassuring. “She won’t.”

Isabelle sniffled. “But—”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Sean interrupted, his tone eerily calm. “She’ll never have my children. The potion is ready. She won’t even know when she drinks it, but it will make her infertile forever.”

I couldn’t breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air thick with something suffocating.

Infertile. Forever.

He had never even considered the possibility of a future with me. I had never been more than an obstacle to be removed, a duty to be tolerated until he could rid himself of me completely.

I had been blind. In my past life, I had believed he simply didn’t love me. That he was cruel, yes, but not… this. Not capable of poisoning me, of ensuring that I could never bear children, just so he could keep his omega without complications.

I should have felt rage. I should have stormed in and thrown the heirloom at his feet, demanded an explanation, screamed, fought—

But I did none of those things. Instead, I stepped back, one foot after the other, retreating into the darkness as silently as I had come.

I inhaled sharply and reached for the other phone hidden in my bedside drawer. My fingers dialed the number with familiarity, and after a few rings, a voice answered.

“Olivia?” My father’s voice, deep and commanding, filled the silence.

I closed my eyes. “I’m coming home, Father.”

There was a beat of silence before he responded. “What about the ceremony? Did something happen?” He sighed then asked another question, “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” I said firmly.

I heard his exhale, a mixture of relief and something else—something unreadable. “Then come home. We’ll be waiting for you.”

A weight lifted from my chest. But before I could hang up, another call came through.

Alpha Theron. I hesitated for only a second before answering.

“Olivia,” his voice was smooth, confident. “Everything is ready. Just say the word, and we will ruin your mating ceremony with Alpha Sean as planned.”

Olivia

Two days before the wedding.

I should have been preparing for my mating ceremony, basking in the final moments of my life as an unbound she-wolf before stepping into my role as Luna. Instead, I found myself staring at the angry red burn on my palm, the skin raw and unhealed, throbbing painfully.

It made no sense. Werewolves healed quickly, even from burns. But this wound refused to mend.

Was it because of my death in the past?

I had burned alive that night. The flames had consumed me, devoured me whole, until all that remained was ash. My last memory had been the searing agony, the suffocating heat, the betrayal in the eyes of my pack as they set the whole land ablaze.

Now, even a simple burn refused to heal.

I clenched my teeth as the nurse applied ointment over the wound, the sting barely a fraction of what I had endured before.

“You’re lucky it’s not deeper,” she murmured, wrapping my hand carefully.

After the treatment, I stepped out into the hospital hallway, flexing my fingers experimentally. The bandages were tight but necessary, concealing the one weakness my body now carried.

Then I saw them.

Sean. Isabelle. Standing in front of the hospital’s OB-GYN department.

Sean’s arm was lightly resting on Isabelle’s back, his body positioned slightly in front of hers, protective—instinctive. The moment they saw me, they stiffened.

Sean’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, blocking Isabelle from view, his eyes flickering with something close to panic.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was sharp, defensive.

I raised my bandaged hand, tilting my head with a smirk. “Got burned.” Then I glanced at the bold silver letters above the door behind him. “What about you, Alpha? Did you burn something too?”

His jaw clenched.

Isabelle shrank back, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. Her face was pale, lips pressed together tightly.

Sean forced a chuckle, but it was strained. “Isabelle was feeling unwell after that night in the rain. I brought her here to get checked.”

“Ah,” I said, dragging out the sound as I crossed my arms. “At the OB-GYN?”

They froze.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sean’s eyes flickered with irritation, while Isabelle’s lips parted slightly, as if struggling to find the right words.

Then Sean recovered. “Just making sure she’s safe all over. It’s no big deal.”

No big deal.

I watched them for a second longer before I let out a small, amused chuckle. “Right. No big deal at all.”

Without another word, I walked past them, ignoring the heat of their stares boring into my back.

That night, dinner at the packhouse was quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

I had prepared everything myself—setting the plates, arranging the meals, and most importantly, pouring everyone a glass of freshly squeezed juice. My fingers tingled as I set down Isabelle’s glass in front of her.

“Drink up,” I said with a pleasant smile.

Isabelle hesitated, glancing at me warily, but Sean nodded at her reassuringly.

I took my own glass and sipped. One by one, the others followed. For a few minutes, everything seemed normal. Then suddenly—

Isabelle gasped.

Her body trembled violently, her fingers gripping the table as she let out a choked whimper. A deep flush spread across her cheeks, her breathing becoming uneven.

“Sean…” she whimpered, turning to him desperately.

Sean’s chair scraped against the floor as he immediately stood, catching her before she could collapse. “Isabelle?” His voice was laced with concern.

She clung to him, pressing her burning body against his chest, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. “I—I feel hot… I can’t—”

Sean’s eyes snapped to me, golden fury igniting in his gaze.

“You,” he snarled, his voice thick with accusation. “What did you do?”

I blinked at him. “Whatever do you mean?”

He bared his teeth. “You drugged her drink.”

I scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you did it before!” Sean roared. “After the Full Moon Festival—you drugged me!”

The accusation hit me harder than expected, but I didn’t let it show.

I remembered that night well. The drunken haze, the way we had woken up in the same bed, our parents storming in. Sean had hated me for it, blamed me for forcing him into this engagement. But I knew the truth. I hadn’t drugged him. He had been drunk on his own poor choices.

I lifted my chin, my voice even. “I didn’t touch her drink, Sean.”

His jaw tightened. He didn’t believe me.

Not that it mattered.

He carried Isabelle away, up the stairs and into his bedroom, leaving the dining hall heavy with tension.

The next morning, Sean approached me, his face stony.

“It was a mistake,” he said flatly.

I arched a brow. “Oh?”

“She’s fine now,” he continued. “It wasn’t anything serious.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I said dryly.

Beside him, Isabelle stepped forward hesitantly, her expression remorseful. “Olivia, I just… I wanted to apologize.”

I tilted my head, watching her carefully.

“As a token of my sincerity,” she continued, “I fixed your moonstone bracelet.”

The air in the room shifted.

My pulse slowed. She held out the bracelet, the one that had been shattered into pieces, the one that had meant everything to me.

But the moment I looked closer, I saw it.

The moonstone wasn’t the same. The fragments of my mother’s bracelet—the ones I had carefully gathered, the ones I had held onto with aching fingers—were gone. Replaced.

“You what?” My voice was calm, too calm.

Isabelle’s smile faltered. “I—I discarded the broken ones and found a new moonstone to replace them.”

My mind went blank.

She threw them away. The last thing I had of my mother. The last connection.

Gone.

Before I even realized it, my palm connected with her cheek. The slap echoed through the room.

Isabelle gasped, stumbling back, her hand flying to her face, eyes wide with shock.

“How dare you,” I breathed, my chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. “You had no right.”

Sean immediately stepped between us, his eyes blazing. “Olivia!”