The light doesn't fade.
It burns.
I expect darkness—the kind that swallows you whole, the kind that means over. Instead, I'm drowning in white. Blazing, blinding, impossible white. My lungs fill with it. My eyes scream.
Then sound crashes in.
Birds. Wind through curtains. A door opening somewhere close.
And a voice I know better than my own heartbeat.
"Elena? Elena, wake up. You're going to be late."
My eyes snap open.
Sera is standing over me.
She's young. Younger than she should be. No lines around her eyes, no hardness in her mouth. Her hair is loose and damp from a shower, and she's wearing a pink robe I haven't seen in years—not since—
Not since the wedding.
"You're pale," Sera says, frowning. "Are you sick? Please don't be sick. Mom will kill me if you ruin the photos."
I can't speak.
I can't breathe.
Because I recognize this room. The pale blue walls. The window seat overlooking the garden. The white dress hanging on the closet door, still wrapped in plastic.
My childhood bedroom.
My wedding day.
No.
I lurch upright. My body moves differently—lighter, younger, unmarked by silver burns. I stare at my hands. No scars. No chain marks. Just soft skin and clean nails.
"What's wrong with you?" Sera laughs nervously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
I have.
I've seen myself.
"Get out," I whisper.
She blinks. "What?"
"Get. Out."
Something in my voice makes her step back. She's not used to me speaking like that. The old Elena—the first Elena—never raised her voice. She apologized for existing. She made herself small so everyone else could feel big.
I'm not her anymore.
Sera's eyes narrow. For a split second, I see a flicker of the woman she'll become. The cruelty beneath the sweetness. Then she masks it with a confused smile.
"Fine. But hurry. Kael's family is already here."
She leaves.
The door clicks shut.
I sit in the silence, trembling, and try to understand.
I died.
I remember the blade. The cold slice across my throat. The way my blood painted the stones, red against grey. I remember the crowd's silence—not horror, just satisfaction. I remember Kael's face, still looking away.
I remember nothing after that.
No tunnel of light. No Moon Goddess. No gentle voice explaining what comes next.
Just darkness.
And then Sera's voice, young and untainted, telling me to wake up.
I stumble out of bed. My legs are steady—stronger than they should be, after three days in chains. I cross to the mirror hanging above my dresser.
The face that stares back is mine.
But not the one I died with.
This face is twenty-three years old. Unlined. Unbroken. The eyes are the same weak-tea brown, but they're not hollow yet. They haven't watched their mate reject them. They haven't seen their sister's true smile.
They're innocent.
I hate them.
I reach up and touch my throat. No scar. Of course there's no scar. The execution hasn't happened yet. It won't happen for three years—if I let it.
If I let any of it happen.
The thought hits me like a physical blow, and I grab the dresser to keep from falling.
I know what's coming.
Every betrayal. Every lie. Every moment when I smiled and trusted and walked straight into their traps. I remember all of it. The affair. The false accusations. The trial that wasn't a trial. The cell. The silver. The blade.
I remember dying.
And now I'm standing in my childhood bedroom, wearing pajamas with little moons on them, staring at a white dress that's supposed to seal my fate.
The Moon Goddess didn't just give me a second chance.
She gave me a weapon.
I dress slowly.
Not because I'm nervous—I've done this before. Because I'm thinking. Planning. The old Elena would have been trembling with excitement, desperate to please, eager to become Kael's Luna.
The new Elena is calculating how to destroy him.
The dress is the same. White lace, long sleeves, a train that pools on the floor like spilled milk. I let Sera help me into it three years ago, crying happy tears, believing I was the luckiest woman in the world.
Today, I zip it myself.
My hands don't shake.
When Sera knocks again, I open the door. She gasps.
"You look… different."
"Different how?"
She tilts her head, studying me. "I don't know. Your eyes. They're—" She stops, shakes her head, forces a smile. "Never mind. You're beautiful. Kael won't know what hit him."
Yes, he will.
I follow her down the stairs.
My parents are waiting in the foyer. My mother is crying—real tears, for once. My father adjusts his cufflinks and tells me not to trip. They both look at me like I'm something precious.
They won't look at me that way in three years.
When the accusations came, they didn't defend me. They didn't ask questions. They just turned their backs and let the pack swallow me whole.
I don't blame them. Not anymore.
I just don't trust them.
The car ride to the ceremony site is short. I watch the landscape blur past—the same trees, the same fields, the same path I walked before. Everything is identical.
Except for me.
The ceremony takes place in the pack's sacred grove. Flowers twined through the trees. A carpet of rose petals. Hundreds of wolves, dressed in their finest, waiting to witness the union of their Alpha and his chosen mate.
Kael stands at the altar.
He's beautiful. I'd forgotten how beautiful—or maybe I'd chosen to forget. Tall and broad, dark hair catching the sunlight, eyes the color of storm clouds. He's wearing black and silver, his Alpha's crest gleaming on his chest.
He looks confident. Happy. Like a man who has everything he wants.
He doesn't know what's coming.
I walk down the aisle alone. No father giving me away. No sister adjusting my train. Just me, step by step, watching Kael's face as I approach.
He smiles when he sees me.
My chest aches. The bond—still intact, still fresh—pulls at me like a tide. It wants me to run to him. To fall into his arms. To believe that this time will be different.
But I know better.
I reach the altar. Kael takes my hands. His palms are warm, calloused, familiar.
"You look beautiful," he murmurs.
I look into his eyes. The same eyes that would look through me on execution day. The same mouth that would speak my death sentence.
I smile.
It's the coldest smile I've ever worn.
"You too," I say.
The priest begins the ceremony. Words about the Moon Goddess, about fate, about bonds that cannot be broken. I've heard them all before.
When he asks if I take Kael Blackwood as my mate, my husband, my Alpha—
I pause.
Just for a moment.
The crowd holds its breath. Kael's smile flickers.
Then I say the word that sealed my death in another life.
"I do."
But this time, it's not a promise.
It's a threat.