All the werewolves claim that I'm born lucky. After all, I, a lowly Omega, get to become the mate of a powerful Alpha named Kael Dwyer.

Only my five-year-old daughter, Lyra Dwyer, keeps staring at me with the eyes that seem to be able to discern everything.

When Kael's mistress, Seraphina Ashwood, uses the spring water blessed by the Moon Goddess while wearing my robe after moving into the pack house, Lyra wakes me up in the middle of the night.

"Mother, why exactly are you still staying with an Alpha that reeks of betrayal?"

Stunned, I ask, "What did you just say?"

Lyra sighs in return. "In my previous life, I had lived till I turned 25 years old. I watched you endure everything for the rest of your life.

"Can you please hear me out this time and reject the bond between you and that Alpha dad of mine? Once you're done, I'll introduce you to an actual fated mate. He's more handsome and powerful than Dad. Most importantly, he's devoted to you and only you."

My daughter, Lyra Dwyer, was the one who told me about Kael Dwyer's betrayal. She was only five years old, having just completed her pup initiation ceremony.

That day, she came back and walked straight up to me.

"Mom, Dad's wolf has been tainted by another she-wolf."

I was polishing the ritual silverware; my hand paused for a heartbeat before I continued, "Don't talk nonsense, Lyra."

"I'm not." She climbed onto the high stool, swinging her legs. "I saw him at the market outside the territory today. He was holding hands with a she-wolf. She had long black hair and was wearing a moon-white dress."

I threw the polishing cloth into the basin, splashing water all over my hands. "You saw wrong."

"I didn't." Lyra jumped down from the stool. She walked over and looked up into my face. "Mom, cry. Let your wolf cry. It'll make you feel better."

Instead of crying, I laughed. "You little pup. You must have been listening to the elder's theatrical tales again, haven't you?"

She shook her head and reached out to take my hand. Her palm was so small, her skin so soft.

"Mom, I'm not a pup," Lyra said slowly, every word chillingly clear. "I actually came back from 20 years in the future."

I froze.

"Twenty years from now, you'll have been gone for a long time," she said, her eyes reddening quickly. "Your wolf withered from heartbreak. By the time they found out, it was too late to save you. Dad had already marked a new Luna by then.

"The ceremony took place just three months after you passed. He told the pack they couldn't be without a Luna—that Finn and I needed someone to care for us."

The candle flames on the altar flickered. A wave of dizziness washed over me.

"I didn't cry, really." Lyra wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I didn't cry at your funeral. Grandma said I was cold-blooded and heartless.

"But I knew that during those last six months before you died—when you were tormented all night by the pain from the other end of the mate bond—none of them showed a hint of compassion."

I stepped back until I hit the cold stone wall. A pack emblem hanging there fell with a sharp clatter.

"Mom." Lyra approached me and hugged my leg. "Stop making dinner for Dad. The venison you cook is delicious, yet he picks at it every time. He tells everyone you just laze around the pack house all day, unable to manage even the simplest tasks."

I wanted to defend him, to say that wasn't true, that her father would never utter those words.

But the words died in my throat. Because last Wednesday, on the night of the full moon, Kael had said exactly that.

I had made his favorite honey-glazed ribs. He told me they were too sweet, that I was lazy with the herbs, and that the meat was tough. Then, he received a mind-link about trouble at the border, shifted into his wolf, and left.

Lyra lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. "Mom, come with me. I can hunt—I can take care of you."

"But you're only five…"

"I'm 25," she interrupted, her voice suddenly steady and commanding. "In my timeline, I am the Alpha Female of the MoonShadow pack. I can conquer a territory of my own. I can hire wolves to protect us and let you sleep late, instead of waking at 6:00 am to prepare breakfast for Dad."

I crouched down and looked into her eyes.

They were so familiar, yet the soul behind them wasn't of a five-year-old pup. There was a weight in her gaze that I couldn't fully grasp, but I knew she wasn't lying.

"Why did you come back?" I asked.

"Because I missed you." Her tears fell again. "I've missed you every single night for 20 years. I remember how thin you were near the end, all skin and bones, yet you still insisted on getting up to cook for Finn and me. You said you were afraid we'd be late for training."

With trembling fingers, Lyra reached out to touch my cheek.

"Mom, it's not worth it. He's not worth it, and we weren't, either. You burned yourself out for us, and we didn't even grow into the wolves you deserved. I'm 25, and I'm still afraid to look for a mate because I don't want to end up like you.

"Finn's even worse. He became—"

Lyra didn't finish her sentence, but I knew it couldn't have been anything good.

Outside the door came Kael's heavy, distinct footsteps.

Lyra immediately wiped away her tears and slipped out of my arms. Then she ran back to the couch and picked up a scroll of parchment.

By the time the door opened, she had already unrolled it and was pointing at a symbol. "Mom, this wind-wolf totem is so pretty."

Kael walked in, carrying a leather pouch.

He glanced at me and asked, "What are you standing there for? Is dinner ready?"

I didn't move.

Lyra jumped off the couch and ran up to him. "Dad, Mom isn't feeling well today. How about we have the kitchen prepare something simple?"

Kael frowned. "What are you making a fuss about again?"

"I'm not," Lyra said, looking up at him with a sweet smile. "I just want some berry pie. We've been eating Mom's roasted meat every day, and I'm getting tired of it. Let's have something different."

Kael looked at me. "You're not feeling well?"

I stared at his face. This was the face I had looked at for seven years—dating for two, being a mate for five.

I used to think he was the most handsome Alpha in the world, but now I suddenly noticed the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his mouth always turned down at the edges, and how little warmth there was in his gaze when he looked at me.

"Yeah, I have a headache."

"Then let's have something simple." He set down the pouch and loosened his tie. "I have a pack meeting in half an hour. Call me when the food arrives."

He went into his study.

Lyra ran over and took my hand. "Mom, let's go change."

"Why?"

"That deep red dress—the most beautiful one." Lyra tugged me toward the bedroom. "The last time I saw you wear it was on my fifth birthday. After that, you never wore it again."

There really was a red dress in the wardrobe. I bought it for our marking ceremony. But Kael had said the color was too bold and didn't suit my status as an Omega.

Lyra pulled it out and shook it open.

"Put it on."

"Why do I have to wear this now?"

"Wear it for me," Lyra insisted. "Mom, you're only 29 years old, not 92."

I changed into the dress. The she-wolf in the mirror looked unfamiliar. Her waist was still slender, but her face was pale, with dark circles beneath her eyes.

Lyra climbed onto the vanity and picked up my lipstick.

"This color is pretty," she said, twisting it open and handing it to me. "Put it on."

I did as I was told.

She then opened a box of face powder, her movements too skilled for a pup. She dusted my face lightly and traced my brows, her touch gentle.

"You'll be beautiful later," she said. "A hundred times more beautiful than you are now. Many Alphas will pursue you—strong warriors and wise Betas alike. An Alpha who ruled an entire forest adored you and courted you for three years, but you never said yes."

I looked at Lyra. "How do you know?"

"Because I've seen it." She put down the powder puff and studied my face. "Before I came to this world, I dreamed of a version of you that didn't die. You turned down the Alpha, opened a flower shop, dressed beautifully every day, and had lots of friends.

"You even took up sailing at 50 years old and posted a photo of yourself smiling happily on social media."

She jumped off the vanity and pulled my hand toward the door.

"Every time I saw that version of you, I cried," Lyra said. "Because I knew that she-wolf wasn't my mom. My mom died at 29 years old, and her last words were 'Remember to drink the soup on the stove.'"

She pushed the door open.

Kael was just coming out of the study and froze when he saw me.

His mouth fell open. "W-Why are you dressed like that?"

Lyra cut in before I could answer. "Mom's taking me out for dinner. Dad, you can have something simple by yourself. We're going to the best restaurant in the territory."

With that, she tugged me toward the door.

Kael called out from behind with the commanding tone of an Alpha, "Elara Byrd!"

But I didn't look back.

Standing on her toes, Lyra pushed the door open and nudged me outside. Then, she slipped out herself and closed the door behind her with a backward motion.

The night wind rushed in, lifting her hair.

Lyra stepped under the moonlight, catching her breath and looking at me with a smile.

"Mom, from today on, I'll take care of you," she said.

Looking into her shining eyes, I suddenly felt that maybe I really had died once.

And now, I was alive again.

We had a very long dinner at the territory's finest restaurant, The Hunter's Feast.

Lyra sat across from me, her movements terrifyingly practiced as she cut into her roasted venison steak.

She even ordered the pack's most famous liquor—Warrior's Mead. The server looked at her as if she were a monster.

"Pups can't drink this," the server said respectfully but firmly.

"It's for my mom," Lyra replied without batting an eye. "She needs it."

When the mead arrived, Lyra poured me a full glass. The amber liquid shimmered under the candlelight.

"Mom, drink. When was the last time you drank for fun?"

I thought about it but couldn't remember. It was probably at my marking ceremony when I exchanged a glass of wine with Kael.

Kael had said I wasn't built for alcohol and told me not to drink again. So, I never did.

I raised the glass and took a sip. The mead was spicy yet sweet. A wave of warmth rushed straight to my chest, nearly bringing tears to my eyes.

Lyra looked at me and suddenly asked, "Mom, do you remember the first time I shifted when I was three years old?"

"Yes, I remember."

"That day, Dad promised he'd stay with me. He said he'd guide me and protect me from being consumed by the pain. But then he said something urgent came up in the pack."

She cut into her venison steak, the knife and fork clinking softly against the wooden plate. "You held me alone. When I screamed as my bones broke during the shift, you warmed me with your own body.

"I bit your arm in my delirium, but you only held me tighter. After the ritual, you carried my weakened body on your back and walked half a mile into the woods to find moonlight herbs for healing. On the way home, I fell asleep on your shoulder, and your arm hurt for a week."

I remembered it all.

That day, Kael never showed up. He said there was an important border negotiation and he couldn't get away.

He didn't come home until late at night, carrying the scent of wildflowers that didn't belong to our forest.

When I confronted him, he told me I was overthinking it, that it was from the Alpha Female of the opposing pack.

"At that time," Lyra said, placing a piece of venison in her mouth and chewing slowly, "I thought to myself, when I grow up, I will never let you feel this lonely again."

She swallowed and looked up at me. "But by the time I grew up, you were already gone."

In the restaurant, werewolves laughed loudly, young mates fed each other, and strong warriors arm-wrestled. Only our table remained quiet, as if holding a farewell ceremony.

Lyra set down her knife and fork. "Mom, reject him."

I stayed silent.

"Take what you deserve—assets from the pack house, income from the territory, weapons from the armory. He's the Alpha and owns all this, but you're his lawful mate, so you're entitled to half of it."

As she spoke, Lyra's gaze was as calm as if she were assessing the gains and losses of a battle. "I know you're soft-hearted, but this time, don't be. In your last life, you were too kind, asking for nothing but custody of Finn and me.

"And what happened? He even skimped on the monthly prey meant for us."

I looked at her, a five-year-old pup with a soul of a twenty-five-year-old.

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"I read your diary," she replied. "After you died, I found a small wooden box hidden in the deepest layer beneath your bed. The sealing runes on it were all cracked. Inside, there were many records—everything from the marking ceremony all the way up to the day your wolf withered away."

Lyra paused, her voice growing softer. "The last page read 'My greatest regret in this life is that I gave everything to others and kept nothing for myself."

My hands were trembling. Lyra saw it and reached over to hold them.

"Mom, this time it's different," she said, gripping them tightly. "This time, I'm here. I know what excuses he'll use, what the Council will say, how to gather evidence, and how to appeal to the Moon Goddess for justice. Trust me just this once, okay?"

I looked at her for a long, long time before replying, "Alright."

Lyra smiled, her eyes crinkling. Finally, she looked like a five-year-old pup again.