Rael took long, purposeful strides as he exited the hall, not sparing the crowd a single glance. His chest burned with anger, pride wounded, ego bruised.

She better be innocent, he thought darkly. Because if she's guilty, I'll burn her body and leave her carcass to the birds of the air.

He stormed into his chambers, crossing the room in a few quick steps. Grabbing a cup from the table, he poured himself a glass of water and downed it in one gulp, the cup slipping from his hand and crashing onto the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. His gaze shifted toward the mountains beyond the window; the sun had disappeared underneath the sky and dark clouds were gathering. It was going to rain.

At that moment, the door swung open. Rael turned to the door in annoyance. When he saw who was at the door, he exhaled heavily:

"I want to be left alone."

However, Jared, the Beta and Rael’s closest friend since childhood, ignored him entirely.

"Rael, that girl asked for an apology," Jared said, stepping fully into the room.

Jared was the only person who could ignore Alpha Rael's commands with no consequences. He towered almost the same height as Rael; they had spent so much time together that people said they had begun to look alike—well, save for his teal-coloured eyes and his long black hair, which was a sharp contrast to Rael's silver-coloured ones.

"What if she’s innocent?"

Rael drew a slow, measured breath, steadying the rage simmering under his skin.

"Polly's the least of my worries right now," he said grimly. "The Luna is dead. You know what that means."

He spoke as if discussing a mere transaction, and in many ways, it was. His marriage to the Luna had been a political arrangement, necessary to unite a fractured pack after his failure to find a fated mate. An alliance with the Northern Riverside Pack had cooled tensions, but there had been no real bond between him and the Luna. No love. Only duty. Still, Rael had never wished her dead. Her brother, Archibald Dune, the Alpha of Riverside, had a dangerous fondness for war, and Rael knew Vera's death could cause a fire far worse than anything he could imagine.

Archie was doom itself; it was a miracle he had agreed to give his sister to him, and now\...

Rael brushed his hand through his hair, cursing underneath his breath.

He had more than internal politics to worry about now.

Jared was silent for a long moment, as if weighing Rael’s words carefully.

"What’s your plan?" he asked finally, his brows knitted with worry. He couldn't think of a possible way out. "By now, news must’ve spread. Soon, Archibald will know his sister was murdered."

Rael raked a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching until it ached.

"She has to be guilty," he said, voice low and hard. "She has to be. Someone has to take the fall, for the good of the pack."

He locked eyes with Jared, fists tightening at his sides.

Jared hesitated, the first hints of doubt crossing his face.

"But... what if she’s innocent? Then what?"

Rael’s expression darkened.

"She isn’t innocent," he said. "And even if she is...

He paused as though thinking carefully about it,

''It still won't matter. She'll still be dead."

…

Adelaide sat before her vanity mirror in a daze.

She had been sitting there for over two hours, staring at her reflection, completely unmoving.

Behind her, her mother and aunt shouted at each other, their voices rising and falling like waves. Her maids shook her shoulders, crying, panicking—wondering if she had finally lost it.

And indeed, she had.

She was going to die tomorrow.

How the hell had she signed up for her own death with her own hands?

Tell me about it, I seek an apology if I'm innocent, huh?

Adelaide almost laughed at herself when she remembered the look on Alpha Rael's face as she taunted him. So he knew all along that the trial was a death sentence!

Oh, may the moon spirit punish his moda effin soul! How did this Polly girl fall in love with that beast!

Arghhhh!!!

Adelaide grabbed her hair with both hands and yanked, screaming like a mad woman.

"Princess, please!" her maids cried, rushing toward her, trying to pull her hands away before she hurt herself.

It was useless.

The more they pulled, the harder she yanked at her own hair.

Finally, she let go and slumped forward, breathing heavily. Her chest heaved with broken, desperate gasps.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was better to just get it over with quickly.

The sooner she died, the sooner she could return to her real body — to her real life.

Yes.

It wasn't that bad.

Right?

"Polly," Polly's mother called, coming to hold her shoulders; ''you have to rescind what you said. You just have to tell the Alpha that you didn't mean it. If it were as easy as entering the water and meeting with death, that would be better, but that’s not the case. Your body will be burned from the inside out. You’ll scream for help, but no one will come to your aid. You’ll burn—"

"Please stop!" Adelaide screamed, pulling her shaky hands over her ears.

"Stop! Stop it! Stop it!" she shrieked, jumping up and violently shoving everything off the vanity table.

Perfume bottles, brushes, jewelry clattered onto the marble floor, scattering in all directions.

She burst into tears, crying hysterically.

She had tried so hard to hold it together. She had tried so hard not to cry.

But this—

This was too much.

Which god hated her this much?

Which god wanted her to suffer like this?

It wasn’t enough that she transmigrated into her book — now the moda effin book was rewriting itself!

This was supposed to be a romance novel, not a horror story!

In the novel, the Moon Spirit Trial was supposed to be painless, holy.

If the accused were innocent, they were immediately vindicated by the Moon Spirit.

There was no burning the innocent! No death! No screaming for help that would never come!

What is this hell!

By the time she finally calmed herself down, the sun had already set.

She had cried, passed out from exhaustion, and woken up only to cry again.

Her mother and aunt were long gone. She had sent her maids away too.

Now she was alone.

The massive double doors of her room loomed in front of her.

From the crack underneath the doors, she could see the movement of the guards stationed outside.

Normally, a criminal like her would be rotting in the underground prison cells.

But because she was a princess — and after the scene she had made in court — the guards were ordered to "handle her delicately."

The fluorescent lamps outside glowed with pale, ghostly light, casting shadows across her bedroom floor.

She dragged herself toward the mirror and sat down again.

Someone had cleaned the mess she made earlier while she was asleep.

The table was neatly arranged and back in its place.

She picked up a brush and began brushing her hair slowly, smoothing out the loose curls.

Her eyes stayed locked on her reflection the entire time.

Polly was beautiful.

Devastatingly so.

Her twin pools of silver eyes glowed under the dim light like shards of fallen stars. Her pale skin was even more delicate in the cold glow, almost ethereal. And the curves of her chest? Full and sitting pretty, almost too big for her frame, but damn, they were so pleasing to look at.

That blind Alpha Rael—how could he not want this? It was all right there, just handed to him on a platter.

Adelaide cursed. Everything in this place was rewriting itself, but his blindness? That was set in stone. Unshaking.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

Too bad she was going to die tomorrow. She would’ve loved a chance to walk around with a face and body like this.

The dreaded day came faster than she expected. The sun had risen faster than it ever had in her entire life.

Adelaide hadn’t been able to sleep at all.

She spent the night pacing her room, thinking of every possible way to escape this fate.

None of it worked. She couldn't go back on her words, like a pathetic little rat begging for its life, and what was the surety that he would let her escape the trial, after insulting him in the open court?

He had even fixed her execution for the very next day, not even giving her a day to breathe. He was surely not going to let her go, coupled with the fact that it was his woman she had supposedly killed.

There was no way out.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Adelaide’s heartbeat picked up pace.

She straightened her back and walked toward it like a puppet on strings.

When she opened it, her two personal maids — Vanessa and Russo — stood there.

Vanessa, round-faced and plump, immediately burst into tears.

She loved Polly like her life depended on it. In the original novel, Vanessa had always been the one to cover up Polly’s misdeeds, sneaking her out of trouble, lying for her when necessary.

Russo was tiny and reserved, standing stiffly by Vanessa's side.

She rarely spoke, but she was sharp and observant.

The two girls stared at her, their eyes almost brimming with tears.

Vanessa looked like she desperately wanted to hug her but held herself back, lips trembling.

Russo gave Vanessa a sharp look as though wondering why she was crying as though Polly was already dead.

Adelaide smiled weakly as she opened her arms wide at her girls,

"Alright, ladies... let’s get ready to die."