Alpha Johnson Reaper, my fiancé, had just asked me to marry him. But when we were on the verge of kissing, a brutal crash shattered the moment.

The impact came out of nowhere. Our bodies slammed against the car’s interior as it spun out of control, tires screeching like a cry for help.

My vision blurred as my head struck something hard. Pain shot through my skull, followed by a warm trickle down my forehead. Dazed, I blinked—only to see crimson staining my trembling hands.

My blood….

Panic surged in my chest, mixing with confusion and fear, as the world around me spun into chaos.

“L-Lauv!” Johnson’s voice called out. It was strained, distant, muffled behind the ringing in my ears.

He held me tightly, arms wrapped around me with protective strength. Even in chaos, his instinct was to shield me. But then came the one final, thunderous crash.

We slammed into something solid. The impact stole my breath, and through the shattered window, I saw the concrete bridge barricade. Before I could process it, the road vanished beneath us.

We fell into the river below, water roaring in my ears just before the car struck the surface with a deafening splash— until I just slipped from consciousness.

When I woke, I was on a stretcher. Nurses rushed me through a hallway that flickered in and out of focus.

My body ached, soaked to the bone as water dripped from me, making the floor slick while they rushed me down the hall. Then I convulsed violently, water bubbling from my nose and mouth before darkness swallowed me.

When I woke up, my first thought was that I shouldn't have. I survived the crash—but it didn’t feel like it after I heard the doctor’s news.

"Alpha Johnson Reaper didn’t make it. I offer you my deepest condolences."

I died inside the moment the doctor spoke, my heart stopped. For a second, I was numb. But when the words finally registered, I burst into tears and stormed out of the room, ignoring the pain wracking my battered body.

I was covered in bruises and cuts, but nothing compared to the agony in my chest. My heart felt torn apart, bleeding in a way no time nor no memory loss could ever heal.

“W-Where is he?!” I shouted, my voice raw from screaming during the crash.

Every creature in the hospital lobby turned to stare, whispering behind their hands. I knew what they were thinking—that I’d lost my mind. But I didn’t care.

“Where is Johnson—” I began, but the words were ripped from my mouth as a palm struck my face, hard enough to snap my head to the side.

My vision blurred. I stumbled, struggling to stay upright—until a second slap knocked me to the floor.

"You peasant!" a woman screamed, grabbing a fistful of my hair.

I gasped in pain and was ready to fight back, but I saw her face.

Imelda Reaper. Johnson’s mother.

"You killed my son!" she shrieked, striking me again, splitting my lip. "You're not just a gold digger—you’re a murderer!"

She dragged me by my hair across the floor, yanking so hard strands tore free as I screamed and begged her to stop. But she didn’t listen.

"This woman killed my son!" she howled at the crowd. "She seduced and murdered him!"

"That's not true!" I screamed, hands scrambling against the blood-slick floor—blood that was mine. "I-I loved him! What happened was an accident. Neither of us—"

"Shut up!" Imelda snarled, kicking me hard in the ribs.

I curled up, coughing blood. It painted the floor and coated my skin, but I didn’t care. At that moment, I wished I had died too.

Grabbing a vase from the nurse's station, my eyes widened when Imedla smashed it. Glass exploded across the floor, which she snatched. I tried to crawl back, but my scream pierced the hall when she slashed it across my cheek.

Fire tore through my skin. Blood poured instantly, blinding one eye. I could taste it—hot and metallic, coating my teeth.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, but no one moved until the guards finally pulled her off me.

"Don’t you dare show your face again!" she screamed, her hands drenched in my blood. "Or I’ll slaughter you myself!"

Tears stung the open wound on my cheek as I sobbed, body shaking in agony. I vomited on the floor out of pain and crawled, desperate to escape.

The sun outside was scorching, but I barely noticed. I just needed to get away—as if I were a criminal fleeing a crime.

But days later, I realized I had become one.

Imelda had sued me for Johnson’s murder—even though it was clearly an accident.

There was no evidence because I hadn’t done it. But with her power and influence, the truth didn’t matter. She twisted the story effortlessly.

I’ve been hiding ever since. Almost a week now.

And today… today is the first time I’ll go back out because it was Johnson’s funeral.

From a distance, I watched in silence, lowering my veil—not just to hide my identity, but to conceal the shame clinging to me like a second skin.

A jagged scar cut across my right cheek, a grotesque reminder of Imelda’s wrath. I could barely stand to look at myself anymore.

Biting my lip, I fought back tears as Johnson’s casket was lowered into the twelve-foot grave. Hidden behind a tree, I listened to the pack’s mourning.

His father held Imelda steady, but even he was breaking. His shoulders trembled as he let himself grieve.

Hot tears streamed down my face. I bit my busted lip to stifle my sobs, tasting blood as the wound split again.

I wished this was a nightmare. But I wasn’t numb. I felt every shard of this reality.

Alpha Johnson Reaper was really gone.

When the world turned its back on me, it was my own kind that took me in—not the werewolves, but peasants like me. I slept on the street, using a piece of cardboard as my bed, with no blanket or pillow to shield me from the cold. It was harsh, but I had no choice. I begged for pennies and food, crying every night. My self-pity would overwhelm me, and I'd sob uncontrollably until I passed out from exhaustion.

But tonight was different. As I cried, an old woman suddenly sat next to me. She wore a black dress, a veil atop her gray hair, and held a cane. I wiped my tears and tried to leave, but she grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

"I know a way," she said.

I shoved her hand away and scooted back, hiding in the shadows. "I’m sorry, but I must go."

She followed and gripped my arm. Her cold touch sent a shiver down my spine as fear crept in.

"I said I know a way," she repeated, her voice firm and her hold unyielding.

"I-I... I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said. "Please, let go of me."

I yanked my arm from her grip, but I winced when her fingers tightened, and her sharp nails dug into my skin.

"Listen to me, young woman," she whispered. "If you want to resurrect your love from death, you need my help."

My whole body ran cold upon hearing her words, and the words stuck in my throat—until I finally asked, "C-Can you do that? Can you make him alive again?"

The old woman smiled at me, revealing her decayed canine. "I can't. But I told you, I know a way."

Desperation rushed through my veins, and I straightened my back before grabbing her bony hands. "Please, I’m begging you. Tell me the way."

The old woman stared down at my hands on hers, slightly raising her brow. For a few seconds, silence lingered, until she met my eyes.

"There’s a mountain in the East," she started. "It’s called The Resurrection. Different kinds of desperate creatures hike there to beg the deity of second life, but most of them don’t make it to the top. I could count on my bony fingers how many survived."

I swallowed hard as my fear doubled, but my desperation to embrace Johnson was greater. I would do anything to be with him again.

"Only those deserving and with good intentions can make it to the top. And if you're one of them, beg the deity with your life."

The wind blew again, sending all the hair on my body standing on end.

"If you decide to hike, bring a tribute to the deity—a headless chicken, pig's blood, and a lotus flower."

I hugged myself, the old woman smirking when she saw it, as it was so obvious that I was scared.

"But remember, young woman, that the mountain is gravely dangerous and alive. It targets the weak and can smell fear. If you hear someone—someone that you love and who’s important to you—do not look back. It's a trap." The old woman's smirk widened. "Once you do, your soul will be trapped forever in the mountain. You’ll become one of the trees, the lakes, or the wild animals—and you'll have to witness those next desperate creatures."

* * *

It took me a week to reach The Resurrection Mountain—not from hesitation, but because I had to work hard to earn the money for the tributes. I worked multiple underpaid jobs—janitor, dog walker, waiter—and begged for pennies on the side.

It was tough, but I finally bought a headless chicken, pig's blood, and a lotus flower. I hugged the bag tightly to my chest, taking a deep breath as I stood before the mountain, shrouded in fog and towering with massive trees. It was dark where I stood, and I knew it would be even darker inside. But I had sacrificed everything to be here, so I couldn’t back out.

I took a deep breath and started my hike. Everything went smoothly at first, until I felt a breath on the back of my neck. The hair on my body stood on edge, and I was about to turn when I remembered what the old woman had warned me.

It’s a trap.

Clutching my bag, I pressed forward, but paused when laughter echoed behind me.

"Smart girl," the voice taunted, moving from one ear to the other. "Let's see how far you'll go."

My heart raced in fear, but I forced myself to walk. Each step felt heavier, as if the ground itself resisted me. The voice echoed in my mind, impossible to block out.

The laughter twisted in my ears, a mocking sound that made my resolve crumble little by little. Its taunts were relentless, and despite my best efforts, I could feel myself losing control. My thoughts were scattered, and my fear grew stronger with each step I took.

"You are the most beautiful." It was Johnson's voice. "Don't get jealous, baby. You're the only one I love."

Tears threatened, but I held them back, staring ahead.

“I’m going to build you a mansion,” Johnson’s voice continued. “We’ll have three children, and our pups will be cute because their mother is gorgeous.”

I clenched my fists so tight, I could feel the blood stop flowing. Even though I knew it wasn’t him, the happiness that came with hearing his voice was inevitable.

I couldn't hold it in anymore; I burst into tears—just for Johnson's voice to appear again.

"Come on, baby. Look at me. I'm here."

I almost did, but I shook my head. "No! You're not real!"

"I am very real. Look behind you and you'll see me."

I shook my head again, now firmer. "You're just inside my head."

"Just look and I'll prove it to you—"

"Shut up!" I screamed, then screamed louder when the earth suddenly collapsed beneath me.

I screamed at the top of my lungs as I plummeted down, my body slamming against rocks and tree branches. The impact was brutal, but somehow, I didn't stop falling until I landed on something— or rather, someone.

My eyes widened in shock as I realized I was on top of a man. His eyes were tightly shut, wincing in pain from the sudden impact of my fall. Just as I was about to move off him, his eyes fluttered open, only to be met by a heavy downpour of rain.

The rain hit him hard, forcing his eyes to close again, and I quickly seized the opportunity to scramble off him. My heart was racing and my hands were trembling as I tried to steady myself.

I scanned the ground desperately, searching for my veil, but it was nowhere to be found. So with no other option, I grabbed a large banana leaf, hoping it would serve to hide my hideous face and shield my shame.

"Don't look at me!" I shouted to the man as I took a slight step back.

"What the hell?" he muttered while standing up, holding his arm to check if the bone inside was fractured. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

He gazed at the sky, before eventually bowing down as the rain kissed his face.

Meanwhile, time seemed to slow down on my end as I scanned him from head to toe. He was incredibly tall, with a solid build that made him appear both strong and imposing. Then my face flushed a deeper shade of red when I realized he was shirtless, completely exposed to the rain.

Without any upper clothing, I had an unrestricted view of his chiseled six-pack abs and the intricate tattoo that adorned his broad chest, drawing my eyes to the sharp curves of his muscles and the patterns inked on his skin.

Swallowing, I looked away. "C-Can you please put on a shirt?"

I saw him raise a brow at me from my peripheral vision, then he slightly chuckled as he said, "Your nipples distract me the same way my abs do to you, but I didn't ask you to put on a bra."

My whole face burned with embarrassment, his words prompting my hands to frantically adjust the banana leaf to cover my chest as well.

"Pervert!" I shouted at the man, who just laughed at me again before turning utterly serious when he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

My throat went dry from his question, but I chose not to tell him the reason. "It's none of your business."

Silence lingered between us, with him raising a brow at me. It lasted so long that it became awkward, so I sighed and decided to shatter it.

"How about you?"

"Why would I tell you?" he retorted. "I'll just answer your question if you answer me first."

I glared at him, but then sighed again and nodded. "Fine. But we'll say it at the same time."

He didn't utter a word, but he nodded—then, when he did, we both answered in unison.

"I'm here to kill myself."

"I'm here to resurrect my lover."

Our eyes widened, both shocked at each other's words—speaking at the same time again.

"What?!"

The man paced back and forth, his palms pressed against his head as if I had slapped him. "What the hell are you thinking?"

I gasped dramatically. "No. What the hell are you thinking?!"

He stopped pacing to look at me. "Who told you that it's possible to resurrect the dead?"

Instead of answering, I walked closer to him—asking the same question, but in a different format. "Who told you to kill yourself?"

We fell into a staring competition as neither of us was willing to answer, until my eyes caught the rope on the tree behind him.

My heart dropped. He would've tied it around his neck if I hadn't fallen from nowhere…

"Gosh, you're so stupid." I stalked toward the rope, not noticing that I had abandoned the banana leaf—until I looked back at him and stumbled upon his wide eyes.

My whole body ran cold, unable to move for a second, before I rushed to smear mud on my face just to hide it.

"I know it's disgusting. You don't have to mention it," I whispered, my voice near cracking.

He blinked his eyes a lot of times. "W-What?"

"Stop looking!" I snapped. "My face is disgusting, and you're making me feel even worse by staring!"

He frowned. "Who told you it's disgusting?"

"No one needs to. It's obvious." Chuckling bitterly, I gasped sharply when he suddenly grabbed my waist and wiped off the mud from my face.

Our eyes locked—mine wide open, while his were filled with unknown emotions.

"It's not disgusting," he whispered. "Who did this to you?"

My breath hitched when his finger traced my scar, the cold from the rain instantly replaced by burning flames.

I swallowed hard. "I-I said it's none of your business."

Pulling away from him, I was about to run away when he yanked me back and crashed his lips into mine.

"Hmmmp!" I screamed against his mouth, then gathered all of my strength to push him away.

A loud crack cut through the rain when my palm struck his cheek, both of us panting heavily as I glared at him—but then something possessed me, and I grabbed his nape.

I jumped on his body and wrapped my legs around his hips, kissing him roughly. He quickly responded and pinned me against the tree, until my moans and his heavy panting replaced the whispers of the unknown creatures lurking on this mountain.