Lycina’s POV

The air inside the house feels no different. It’s heavy, filled with bitterness and lies from the life I left behind. I dress, my fingers keep testing the hands if they are mine again, tracing my bones, my skin, as if I need to confirm it’s really me.

“You’re up early,” Lyria says as I step into the kitchen. My eyes flick over her. She’s the same as always, tilting her head when she wants something, stretching her smile when she lies.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say with a shrug, sliding into a chair at the table.

She sets a steaming cup in front of me. “Chamomile. You love it.” I don’t touch it. Instead, I watch her, delicate, skilled, and deadly. Those hands stir lies into everything she hands me in my past.

“Thank you,” I say, my smile never reaching my eyes. I sit through breakfast, watching, listening, nodding when I should, smiling when I must. My father barely speaks. he never does. My mother fusses over the broken hinge on the greenhouse door.

It hit me then as I remember this day. They never cared about me. The signs were always there, but I ignored them. The half-heard whispers, the sudden silences when I enter a room, the odd herbs in Lyria’s drawer, the times my food tasted just… off. My wolf grew tired, dull, and my confidence slipped away bit by bit. I didn’t see it then, but now, now I see it all.

Just as I was about to head towards the kitchen, I could hear the voices of Lyria and a lady who I assume to be a pack nurse, definitely from another pack because I do not recognize her. I hid, listening.

“My Luna, I'm not sure I can continue this. I fear that the moon goddess will punish me severely.” Says the nurse.

“Do you have a choice? I am your Luna and you must obey me.”

“My Luna…” she hesitates as she speaks with fear. “You can’t keep giving your sister those herbs. I fear she will never get better and her wolf will never be brave. That’s a wicked act.” 

“You bitch! Am I not paying you? If you won’t, another person will. And I’m warning you... Do not say this to anyone or else, I’ll kill you myself.”

My heart trembles as I grip my heart while it beats fast. I heard those scary conversations and I can’t react, not yet. If I want justice, I need more than my anger. I need to study my environment and be careful.

I have to be smart. I have to play this carefully and think fast. Two days later, I got my first confirmation. Lyria has this quirk I remember perfectly now. On the eve of her birthday, under a full moon, she comes to the dining room late, acting nice. The night arrives, and I sit at the table, my heart pounding.

And she does it the exact way. Exactly as I remember.

I lean back, my pulse thundering in my ears. It’s real. I’m reborn, and it’s all real. I’m not losing my mind. That night, after dinner, I lock the bathroom door and cry for the first time since waking into this life again. Not from fear, but from relief. I cry because I’m not broken anymore. I have a second chance for revenge.

The next morning, I skipped the usual training ground with the others. I head into the forest, craving air, freedom, space to breathe. My wolf itches under my skin, desperate for a run. The woods feel alive as I sense everything moving through the ground, in the trees above. I close my eyes, and she, my wolf, takes over.

When I shift into my wolf, it feels… right. No pain, just ease, release. I run, darting through trees, over streams, under fallen logs. My paws are silent on the mossy ground. Then I catch his scent, spiced wood, a hint of musk and it stops me cold as I come face to face with him. My mate from the past. Theron.

The pull clenches my chest, and I slow. His wolf is near; the air grows taut with the shift in energy. I crouch behind a tree as he emerges, his golden-brown fur catching the light.

He hasn’t changed. Still fierce, still handsome. His wolf hesitates, nose twitching, head turning my way. I stopped breathing as I realized he smells me. Then the pull begins.

I slip back, emerging from behind the tree, clutching my clothes and dressing quickly before he gets closer. His human form appears in the clearing, his eyes locking onto me.

He frowns. “This isn’t your route.”

“I know.” I flash a polite smile. “I needed a run.”

His gaze narrows. “You smell…” He steps closer, as if drawn. “Familiar.”

I tilt my head, feigning confusion. “Do I?”

He stares, uncertain, his brows furrowing. I see the recognition flicker, but he doesn’t know me, not yet. I study him closely.

“I’m Lycina,” I say.

“Theron.” He says. 

“I know.” I replied.

His eyes sharpen. “We’ve met?”

I smile again. “Not really.” I say.

His gaze lingers on my lips, then darts away, almost embarrassed. He steps back, but I don’t follow.

“I should get back,” I say.

He looks like he wants to say more, ask more, but he doesn’t. I turn, take three steps, then pause and meet his gaze directly. He’s still watching me. I let a slight smile curl my lips and walk away.