Chapter 2 CHAPTER 2

Amara's POV

The first breath I took in this new body felt like swallowing broken glass.

My eyes flew open, and I gasped, choking on air that tasted wrong. Everything felt wrong. My limbs were too light, too weak. My heartbeat stuttered in my chest like a dying flame. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, made of dark wood and stone instead of the woven branches of my coven home.

Where was I?

"She is awake!" A voice shrieked somewhere to my left.

Footsteps rushed toward me. Hands pressed against my forehead, my wrist, my chest. I tried to push them away, but my arms would not obey. They felt like they belonged to someone else.

"Impossible," another voice whispered. "She was dead. I checked myself. There was no pulse."

"The Moon Goddess has blessed her," the first voice said, shaking with wonder. "She has been brought back."

No. Not brought back.

Reborn.

The memory crashed into me like a wave. The amulet. Elara pressing it into my palm as she died. The ancient magic that our ancestors had woven into it, the spell that promised a second chance to the soul who carried it in their final moment.

I had died clutching that amulet. And now I was here.

But where was here? And whose body was I inside?

"Octavia, can you hear me?" A woman leaned over me. She wore the robes of a healer, her face lined with age and concern. "Blink if you understand."

Octavia. That was the name of this body.

I blinked. Relief flooded the healer's face. "Thank the Goddess. We thought we had lost you. The poison was so strong."

Poison. Someone had tried to kill this girl.

"You must rest," the healer continued, dabbing a cool cloth against my forehead. "You have been through something terrible. But you are safe now. The Crimson Fang Kingdom will protect you."

Crimson Fang Kingdom. The words sent a chill down my spine.

I knew that name. Every wolf and witch in the realm knew that name. The Crimson Fang Kingdom was ruled by the Lycan King, a creature cursed by the Moon Goddess herself. They said he was a monster who could tear apart armies with his bare hands. They said his rage was uncontrollable, that he killed without mercy.

And I was in his territory.

I forced myself to stay quiet, to listen. The healers moved around me, whispering to each other when they thought I could not hear.

"Poor thing. Bought like cattle and nearly killed before she even reached the palace."

"Do you think she knows what she was brought here for?"

"A surrogate for the king. Can you imagine? If His Majesty does not find his true mate, this girl will be expected to carry his heir."

"If the curse does not kill her first."

Their words painted a horrible picture. This body, this girl named Octavia, had been purchased. Sold to the Crimson Fang Kingdom to serve as a vessel for the cursed king's child. She had been poisoned before she even arrived, which meant someone wanted her dead.

And now I was trapped inside her dying body.

The healer gave me bitter tea to drink before leaving me alone. I forced it down, feeling the liquid burn through this weak form. When the room finally emptied, I dragged myself to the small mirror hanging on the wall.

The face that stared back at me was not mine.

Gone were my dark brown eyes, the deep olive skin I had inherited from my mother, the long black hair that had reached my waist. Instead, I saw pale skin like moonlight, ash-blonde hair that barely touched my shoulders, and eyes the color of soft gray. This girl was pretty in a fragile way, like a flower that might break in a strong wind.

This was Octavia.

And now, I was her.I pressed my fingers against the cold glass, searching for any trace of who I used to be. But there was nothing. Just this stranger's face staring back at me with hollow eyes.

My magic stirred weakly inside me, a faint whisper of what I used to be. It was there, but distant, like trying to hear someone calling from the other side of a thick wall. The forbidden spells I had cast for Michael had already drained me. Now, trapped in this dying body, my power felt like the last embers of a fire that had almost gone out.

I would have to be careful. I could not let anyone know who I really was. A witch in the Lycan Kingdom would be killed on sight.

The door burst open without warning.

A sharp-faced woman in fine robes entered. She looked at me like I was something unpleasant she had found on the bottom of her shoe.

"So you survived," she said coldly. "How fortunate."

I said nothing. I did not trust this body's voice yet.

"I am Lady Margot, head of the household staff," she continued, circling me like a predator. "You were purchased by the Crimson Fang Kingdom for a very specific purpose. His Majesty requires a potential surrogate. That is your only value here. Do you understand?"

The words made my stomach turn, but I nodded.

"Good. You will be presented to the king tonight. Servants will prepare you. Do not embarrass us." She paused at the door. "And do not look him directly in the eyes. He does not tolerate disrespect from your kind."

She left, and I sank onto the edge of the bed.

Tonight. I would meet the cursed Lycan King tonight.

Fear coiled in my stomach, cold and heavy. Every story I had ever heard about him rushed through my mind. The legends said he was a beast barely contained in human skin. They said his curse made him unpredictable, violent, capable of tearing someone apart in seconds if his control slipped.

But I had not come back from death to cower before another powerful man.

Michael had taught me what monsters really looked like. They wore charming smiles and whispered sweet lies. They made you believe you mattered before they destroyed everything you loved.

If this king was truly a monster, at least he did not pretend to be anything else.

Servants came as the sun began to set. They scrubbed my skin until it hurt, braided my hair with silver thread, and dressed me in a gown of deep blue silk that felt more like a funeral shroud than a dress. I looked like a sacrifice being prepared for an altar.

Maybe that was exactly what I was.

They led me through the palace halls as darkness fell. The Crimson Fang Palace was nothing like the warm, earthy structures of my coven. Everything here was made of black stone and iron, cold and imposing. Torches lined the walls, casting dancing shadows that looked like creatures waiting to pounce.

My weak legs trembled with each step. This body was barely strong enough to walk, let alone face a king.

We turned down a long corridor, and I saw them in the distance.

Massive iron gates, taller than three men standing on each other's shoulders. They were carved with images of wolves howling at the moon, their eyes inlaid with red stones that seemed to glow in the torchlight.

The gates to the throne room.The one that would lead me to the cursed king.

"Wait here," one of the servants whispered. "You will be called when His Majesty is ready."

They left me standing alone in the cold hallway.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. Every instinct in this body screamed at me to run, to hide, to do anything except walk through those gates.

But I had nowhere to run. No home to return to. No people left to protect me.

I had only myself and the faint whisper of magic in my veins.

The gates groaned.

Slowly, they began to open. The sound echoed through the hallway like the growl of some ancient beast waking from sleep. Torchlight spilled through the widening gap, and with it came a presence so powerful it made the air itself feel heavy.

The servants had not lied.

The Lycan King was here.And he was waiting for me.

I took one shaking breath and stepped forward.

The gates opened fully, revealing the vast throne room beyond.

And there, seated on a throne of black iron, his golden eyes already fixed on the doorway, was the cursed king himself.