The reception is a blur of champagne and false smiles.
I float through it like a ghost—present but not there, smiling but not warm. The old Elena would have been breathless with happiness, clinging to Kael's arm, thanking every wolf who congratulated her.
The new Elena watches.
Kael's hand rests on my lower back. Proprietary. Casual. He doesn't notice that I'm not leaning into him anymore. He doesn't notice that my laughter doesn't reach my eyes.
He never did.
Sera catches me by the dessert table, glass of wine in hand. She's changed out of her bridesmaid dress into something tighter, lower-cut. Kael's eyes have followed her twice already.
I pretend not to see.
"You look tired," Sera says, tilting her head. Concerned sister. Sweet and gentle. "Big day, huh?"
"Exhausting."
She steps closer. Lowers her voice. "You know, if you ever need to talk… about anything. Marriage can be hard. I'm here for you.
In another life, I would have believed her. I would have cried on her shoulder, confessed my fears, trusted her with my heart.
She would have taken that trust and twisted it into a blade.
"Thank you," I say. "That means a lot."
She smiles. I smile.
We both know it's a lie.
The pack house is quiet when Kael carries me over the threshold.
Tradition. The Alpha must carry his Luna into their new home. The first time I lived this moment, I buried my face in his neck and whispered how much I loved him.
This time, I keep my eyes open.
He sets me down in the foyer. The house is grand—dark wood, high ceilings, a chandelier that cost more than my parents' car. Servants bow as we pass. Guards nod.
Kael dismisses everyone.
We're alone.
He turns to me, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. The Alpha mask slips. Underneath, he's just a man. Tired. Hopeful. Uncertain.
"You were quiet tonight," he says. "Is everything alright?"
No. You're going to kill me in three years. Your Beta is a traitor. My sister is sleeping with you behind my back. And I've already died once because of you.
"Just nervous," I say. "It's a lot to take in."
He nods. Reaches for my hand. "I know I'm not easy to be married to. The pack comes first. Always. But I want you to know—" He pauses, searching for words. "I chose you. The Moon Goddess gave me you. That means something."
It means nothing.
I know that now.
"Can I get you anything?" he asks. "Wine? Tea?"
I shake my head. "I think I just need to sleep."
He looks relieved. He doesn't have to pretend to be romantic tonight. He doesn't have to try.
He never had to try. I loved him so easily, so completely, that he forgot love requires effort.
"Goodnight, Luna," he says.
He walks toward his study. Toward his work. Toward anything but me.
I watch him go.
Then I walk to the bedroom we're supposed to share and close the door behind me.
I don't sleep.
I sit on the edge of the bed—our bed, though he'll rarely be in it—and I plan.
Three years. That's how long I have until the execution. Three years to gather evidence, build alliances, and destroy everyone who wronged me.
But I can't move too fast. Kael is suspicious by nature. If I change too much, too quickly, he'll notice. He'll investigate. And if he discovers I know about the affair before it happens, he'll wonder how.
I need to be patient.
I need to be careful.
And I need to remember: the enemy isn't just Sera. It's not just Kael. It's Beta Aldric—the man who orchestrated the false accusations. The man who serves someone called the order.
I never learned who that was. I died before I could find out.
This time, I will.
I pull a notebook from the bedside table—blank, untouched—and start writing.
Everything I remember. Every date. Every betrayal. Every name.
When I'm done, I hide the notebook beneath the mattress and lie back against the pillows.
The ceiling stares back at me.
One day at a time, I tell myself. You didn't come back to fail.
Morning comes too fast.
I wake to an empty bed—Kael never came to it. No surprise. He spent the night in his study, like he always did. Like he always would, until Sera started visiting him there.
I dress in simple clothes. Nothing fancy. The old Elena dressed to please him—soft colors, flowing fabrics, nothing that might intimidate.
Today, I wear black.
When I walk into the kitchen, the servants freeze. They're not used to seeing the Luna before noon. They're not used to seeing her dressed like she's going to a funeral.
"Good morning," I say. "Coffee, please. Black."
The head cook nods quickly. "Yes, Luna. And breakfast? The Alpha usually takes his in the study—"
"I'll eat in the garden."
Another surprise. The old Elena ate alone in her room, too shy to impose. The new Elena wants to see the pack. To be seen.
I need them to know my face. To remember me as something other than a victim.
The garden is beautiful in the morning light. Roses in bloom, fountains trickling, paths winding through hedges. I walk slowly, taking it all in.
This place will become my prison. But first, it's my stage.
"Luna Elena?"
I turn.
A young wolf stands at the edge of the path. She can't be more than eighteen—gangly, nervous, clutching a stack of books to her chest.
"Mira," I say.
Her eyes widen. "You know my name?"
I do. Mira is the pack healer's apprentice. In my first life, she was the only one who visited me in the dungeon. The only one who brought me water when the guards "forgot." The only one who cried at my execution.
She doesn't know it yet, but she's about to become my closest ally.
"I make it a point to know everyone," I say. "What are you reading?"
She stammers something about herbal remedies, about healing, about wanting to be useful. I listen like I care—because I do care. Just not for the reasons she thinks.
"Come find me tomorrow," I say. "I'd like to learn more about your work."
She beams. Nods. Hurries away.
I watch her go, and I feel something I haven't felt in years.
Hope.
Kael finds me in the garden an hour later.
He looks tired—dark circles under his eyes, shirt wrinkled. He didn't sleep. He never sleeps well after ceremonies. Too much pressure. Too many expectations.
"You're up early," he says.
"I couldn't sleep."
He nods. Hesitates. Then sits on the bench across from me.
"We should talk," he says. "About expectations. About how this will work."
I wait.
"I need you to understand—the pack comes first. My duties come first. I won't always be available. I won't always be—" He gestures vaguely. "Present."
"You're saying you'll be absent."
His jaw tightens. "I'm saying I have responsibilities."
I nod slowly. "I understand."
He looks surprised. The old Elena would have cried. Begged him to promise he'd try harder. Made him feel guilty for something he had no intention of changing.
The new Elena just accepts.
Because I know the truth: his absence isn't about duty.
It's about Sera.
"I have meetings all day," he says, standing. "Dinner is at seven. I expect you to be there."
"Of course."
He walks away without looking back.
I watch him go, and I smile.
Three years, I think. Three years until you destroy yourself.
I can't wait.