Reborn to break lies of Alpha husband

“Evelyn, you’ve done well.”

Adrian’s voice was low and gentle. In his arms lay our newborn pup, her tiny breath soft against the Alpha’s chest. His golden eyes shimmered with rare tenderness.

“When she wakes, I’ll take her to the Bloodline Hall for the resonance test,” he murmured.

My pupils widened. My heartbeat faltered.

This scene—this exact moment—

I had lived it before.

I was reborn.

Memories from my previous life crashed into me like a violent tide.

That day, that hour—it was the beginning of everything that went wrong.

I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm. My hands trembled as I reached out for my daughter.

“No need,” I said softly. “I’ll take her. Didn’t the Pack Council summon you to handle the border issue?”

Adrian hesitated, a faint wrinkle forming between his brows. “You just gave birth, Evelyn. Your body hasn’t fully recovered. It’s not safe for you to go out.”

“One day of rest is enough.”

My tone was steady, and my resolve was unshakable.

He sighed, but yielding, and placed the baby in my arms.

Warmth. Fragile. Real.

My chest tightened painfully.

In my past life, it was right here, in the Bloodline Hall, that everything had fallen apart.

The test had declared my child a corrupted bloodline.

I was born under the Moon Goddess’s blessing; her divine mark flows through my veins.

Adrian, too, carries the pure Alpha lineage.

Our child—our pup—how could she possibly be “corrupted”?

Yet in that life, the entire pack turned on me.

They called my daughter a cursed child, an omen of doom.

I held her as they hunted us, until the cliffs swallowed us whole.

The memory burned like acid behind my ribs.

“Some people,” a voice drawled behind me, “never learn their place.”

Nancy stood at the doorway, her chin lifted, a cold smile curving her lips.

“Can’t even bear a proper heir for the Alpha, and you still think you deserve to stay by his side?”

Her gaze was sharp, cruel, and full of scorn. She didn’t even wait for the test—she had already judged my daughter unworthy.

The air around me froze. A chill crawled up my spine.

It was all planned from the beginning.

But the old me had been too naive to see it.

“My son risked his life to protect this pack,” Nancy sneered. “And you? You only drag him down. Useless.”

I said nothing. I just held my daughter closer.

In my past life, I’d always endured it like this.

Believing that silence could buy peace.

Believing that one day, she might finally accept me.

To keep Adrian from being torn between us, I’d given up my position, healed his wounds, prayed for him, kept our bond strong.

But none of that had earned me her respect—only deeper contempt.

“Mother,” Adrian finally spoke, his tone gentle and powerless.

“Evelyn is my fated mate. I’ll do anything for her and our daughter.”

His words, meant to soothe, but only poured oil on the fire.

Nancy’s face darkened, her fury twisting into venom. “You’ll learn one day, son. A weak Luna will destroy a pack faster than any war.”

Adrian sighed, clearly exasperated, then turned to me. “Evelyn, please have the Pack Doctor check your condition. Mother and I will fetch food, then we’ll go together to the Bloodline Hall.”

He left with her, his face is still gentle, yet always alienate.

I looked down at my daughter. Her tiny hand clutched my robe, and on her fingertip was a small mole—the same one she’d had before.

It was her.

No matter how many lives I had lived, she was always my pup.

But why… why had her bloodline resonance failed?

Why had fate allowed history to repeat itself?

I closed my eyes and whispered through the mental link,

“Father, Mother… I need you to watch over her for a while.”

Marcus and Selene’s voices echoed softly in my mind.

I brushed my daughter’s forehead and whispered,

“This time, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Night fell.

Moonlight spilled over the Silver Claw territory, painting the world in silver frost.

I drew my cloak tighter and walked alone toward the Bloodline Hall.

The stones gleamed cold under my feet, each step pulling me closer to the truth.

This time, I would uncover everything—and it would start with the bloodline test.

I slipped the abandoned baby into a thick blanket and carried her back to the Healing Hall.

Her breathing was faint—so faint it barely stirred the air—but each fragile exhale brushed against my neck like a whisper of warmth.

Pity, fear, and something darker twined together in my chest until it almost tore me apart.

I traced a trembling fingertip along her tiny cheek. Her skin was cold.

“I’ll take care of you,” I murmured, a promise meant for both of us. “Once this is over, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”