Chapter 1: Back to the Beginning
Odessa's POV
Warmth.
The first thing I felt wasn't pain, or blood soaking into my skin, or the steel tearing through me again. It was warmth. Gentle, almost soft, like the sun resting on my face.
My eyes snapped open.
The world was…bright. Too bright. My last memory was darkness, my vision fading while Silas's sword carved through my skull. But now...sunlight stabbed my eyes. I blinked rapidly, shielding my face.
The warmth spread across my skin. Not the heat of blood loss, not the burning agony of betrayal. Real warmth. Real life.
No. That wasn't possible. I had died.
I pushed myself up, my hands trembling. For a moment I expected to see torn flesh, mangled bones, blood pooling at my stomach. Instead, smooth skin greeted me. My belly was whole. My hands were steady, not drenched red with blood.
"What…" My voice cracked. "What is this?"
Then the scent hit me.
Wildflowers. Sweet, vibrant, full of life. Not the rot and iron tang of death, not the suffocating musk of battle. Flowers.
I turned my head, and my heart nearly stopped.
A field stretched out before me, bursting with color. Sunflowers tilted toward the golden sky, bright as the ones I had once traced with childish fingers. Roses glistened with morning dew. Daffodils lined neat rows like soldiers bowing to the sun. Butterflies danced between petals.
My chest tightened.
No. It couldn't be.
This was my mother's garden.
The same one she had tended daily, her gentle hands coaxing life from the soil. The same one where I'd laughed with August, my younger brother, when the world had still been whole. Before Silas. Before betrayal. Before I threw it all away.
But this garden…had been destroyed. Burned when Silas claimed his throne, when he ordered the land salted to erase my bloodline forever. I had watched the flames from the distance, powerless and broken.
So why was I here?
Was this the afterlife? Was I doomed to relive the life I had destroyed?
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. "This isn't real. This isn't real. This is just ...just a memory. This was my life flashing before my eyes before I officially died."
A sound broke through the quiet. They sounded like footsteps.
I froze, my heart racing. The tread was firm, steady. Familiar. Too familiar.
No. No. No. No.
I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Odessa," a voice called softly. A voice I knew as well as my own heartbeat.
My stomach twisted violently.
Silas.
The bastard. The murderer. The man who had ripped my son from my arms and carved me open without hesitation.
My eyes snapped open, and there he was.
Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair catching the light. His sharp jaw, his lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. And those eyes...brown with flecks of gold, eyes I once thought were beautiful. Eyes I now only associated with ice and cruelty.
My throat closed as my hands trembled from anger.
The afterlife was cruel indeed. Why would it place him here instead of my family? Why show me the monster instead of those I longed for?
"I…" My voice broke. "I must be in hell."
He frowned, confusion shadowing his face. He stepped closer. "Love? What are you saying?"
Love...love...love?
I couldn't be hearing things correctly. There was no way he was using the same endearment he had used on me when we were still dating.
I wasn't his love. I wasn't anything to him.
Rage surged through me, overwhelmingly. My hand shot out blindly, grabbing the first thing I touched on the nearby table, a bread knife. My knuckles whitened as I gripped it, my body shaking with fury.
If this was hell or the afterlife, then fine. I would carve him apart with my own hands, the way he had carved me. Then I'll toss him in a pit where he'll rot for years to come.
"Odessa...wait!" His hands lifted, palms out, but I didn't hear him. I didn't care.
I lunged. The blade pressed against the pulse of his neck. His eyes widened, his throat bobbed.
"Love, what are you doing?" he whispered, swallowing hard.
The endearment tore something inside me open. The image of his sword tearing through me, the sound of Alaric's cries, Emily's cruel laughter, all of it rushed back at once.
I pressed harder. My breath came ragged, wild. "I'll kill you," I spat. "I'll kill you the way you killed me."
"Love...calm down."
"Don't you tell me to calm down!" I screamed as I pressed the knife harder just enough to drip blood.
I smiled when I saw the blood drip. I wanted more. I wanted him to suffer.
"Miss!" A shrill desperate voice rang out as another figure rushed between us, shoving me back gently.
I froze the same time the grip on my knife faltered.
Curly hair. Round, earnest face. Brown expressive eyes filled with warmth and care.
"Penny?" My voice cracked.
She blinked, confused. "Yes, miss. What's wrong? Did he hurt you?" She asked as she fussed over me.
Tears blurred my vision. My knees weakened. I staggered forward, dropping the knife as I crushed her into an embrace.
"Penny," I sobbed, my voice breaking. "You're alive. You're really alive."
She stiffened, then slowly hugged me back, patting my back awkwardly. "Miss, I only went to fetch more snacks for Alpha Silas. I wasn't gone that long…"
Her words barely registered. I clung to her, my chest heaving. Penny. Sweet Penny, my maid, my sister in all but blood. She had died years ago. Slain in the chaos of Silas's rise. I had buried her myself along with most people in my family.
But here she was, warm, breathing, scolding me like always.
Tears poured down my face.
Behind her, Silas cleared his throat. "What's going on?" He rubbed his neck where I'd pressed the blade.
I tore my gaze from Penny and finally looked at him properly.
And it was only then did I register that something was wrong.
He wasn't dressed like the Alpha who had slaughtered me. No...his tunic was plain, his boots muddied from training. And I knew that tunic. Knew it because I had loved it once, because he had worn it the first time he told me he loved me.
The memory slammed into me: his voice in this very garden, whispering promises, binding me with words sweeter than poison.
No. No, no, no.
"Penny." My voice trembled.
"Yes, miss?"
"What…what is today's date?"
She frowned, then answered dutifully. "The last day of the tenth month, year 1809."
My knees almost gave out under me. This was some kind of prank right?
This was the very day Silas confessed his love to me. The day it all began.
I staggered to my feet, stumbling past Penny, ignoring Silas's protests. My legs carried me through the garden, across the stone path, into the house that was whole and unburned.
My family's home.
I raced through the hallways, my chest tightening with every step. The walls gleamed. No scorch marks. No rubble. No blood.
I burst into my chamber, gasping for air. My hands shook as I searched, clawing through drawers until I found a mirror.
I lifted it with trembling hands.
And froze.
The face staring back wasn't the broken, bloodied woman Silas had destroyed. It was younger, untouched by grief. My hair gleamed midnight black, thick and lustrous. My skin was smooth, unscarred. My blue-grey eyes shone, clear and bright.
I looked…exactly as I did when I was twenty one.
"Young," I whispered hoarsely. "So young."
The mirror slipped from my hands and shattered against the floor. I stumbled back, my chest heaving, my body shaking violently. I pinched myself and this was real. Everything was real.
This wasn't the afterlife.
It wasn't hell.
I had been sent back.
Back to the very beginning.
And this time…
This time I would not make the same mistakes I made before.