Reborn To Rule: I Will Seize The Throne!

Reborn To Rule: I Will Seize The Throne!

Khira · Ongoing · 328.2k Words

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Introduction

"Aveline Ashkaar." Rhaedon's voice was low as his golden eyes held mine. "The moment you offered yourself to become my Luna, everything about you became mine. Your life, your obedience, your blood... including the abilities that flow through it."

He paused, his gaze never leaving mine.

"And I don't share what's mine."

☆

I died on my son's death anniversary, betrayed by the man I'd devoted my entire life to, and the woman who stood by, smiling as I took my last breath… was my very own sister.

When I opened my eyes again, I was five years in the past—before the betrayal, before my death and before the beginning of it all.

This time, I refused to marry the man who destroyed me.

Instead, I walked straight into the arms of the only man the entire Empire feared—Crown Prince Alpha Rhaedon Ashkaar.

Rhaedon was everything Lucien wasn't.

Dangerous. Competent. Powerful.

And the perfect weapon for my revenge.

He wanted the throne. I wanted vengeance.

It should have been the perfect alliance, but revenge was never that simple.

With every step I took toward my revenge, another secret from my first life came to light. The deeper I dug, the more I realized I wasn't the only one playing this game.

And by the time I uncovered the truth...

Walking away from Rhaedon Ashkaar was no longer an option.

Chapter 1

~Aveline~

Twenty-four hours after the second month anniversary of our child’s death, I stood outside my matrimonial room and watched my husband moan my sister’s name, groaning as he slammed into her.

His raw and unrestrained groan was followed by a breathless moan, wanton and unashamed, echoing off the walls and crashing straight into me where I stood frozen with glossy, disbelieving eyes. 

My mouth hung open, but no sound came out. No sound had come out for the past three years—ever since the night I lost my voice after taking a blow meant for Maribel. 

Now, that decision mocked me.

Violently, my heart clenched in my chest and the world tilted as my vision blurred. For a brief, foolish second, I wondered if this was another nightmare—one of the many that had haunted me since the death of my three-year-old son.

But it wasn't. Before me, the scene, their voices and mix of pheromones, were as real as they came. 

How… how had things turned out this way?

The question burned hot in my mind. 

Just an hour ago, I had spoken to Lucien through the communication instrument. His voice had sounded distant, detached—like it had for the past few weeks—but I hadn’t questioned it. Not when he told me he loved me.

Not when he promised we would go on a vacation together to rest, grieve, and try again for another child.

He had said all of that… while knowing he was about to climb into bed with Maribel?

Betrayal twisted its dagger in my chest and before I could stop myself, my legs moved on their own, carrying me forward as I pushed the door open.

It slammed violently against the wall, startling them both. 

Lucien’s head snapped over his shoulder, his movements halting as his gaze locked onto me. The warmth and desire that had filled his eyes moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by something cold and detached.

“Sister—” Maribel scrambled for the bedsheet, yanking it up to cover her bare chest as she stared at me, eyes wide.

I met her gaze, my vision swimming as tears threatened to fill my eyes. 

My hands trembled as I signed frantically—furiously.

“Explain yourself!”

At moments like this, I hated my silence more than ever.

“It’s not what you think,” Maribel began, her voice breathless. Then she stopped. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a long, tired sigh—as if she were the one exhausted by this situation.

The sweetness drained from her expression in the blink of an eye.

“Gods be damned,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her damp blonde hair.

Beside her, Lucien finally pulled away and sat back against the headboard with a heavy sigh.

“I can’t keep up this act anymore,” she said.

Her words made my brows furrow in confusion and hurt.

I raised my hands again, signing frantically, my movements sharp and desperate. “What… what the hell is going on?”

The words burned in my throat, trapped where my voice used to be.

Before I could finish signing, Maribel let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. 

The irritation on her face sat so naturally, so comfortably, that it made my stomach churn. 

She leaned back against Lucien, resting her head against his chest as if she belonged there, her gaze flicking up to meet his for a brief, intimate moment.

“How have you endured her for all these years?” she asked.

The question struck me harder than any slap.

Endured?

Lucien had married me when I was at my peak—when I stood at the center of every noble gathering. I hadn’t been just another Luna candidate for the Ashbourne pack. I had been the Luna candidate, born of noble blood beneath a red moon, favored by tradition and destiny alike.

I was the woman other women envied and all men desired.

And yet, after marrying Lucien, all of it had slipped through my fingers.

My standing, my beauty, my voice.

… And my child.

But I still stayed, not because this marriage was just another political alliance, but because I loved him.

And what? All these years he's merely been ‘enduring’ me? 

Anger coiled tightly with hurt in my chest and my gaze snapped toward Lucien, locking onto his face.

Tell her to shut up, I begged silently, desperation burning in my eyes. And put an end to this nonsense!

Lucien met my gaze.

For a fleeting moment, I searched his eyes for the warmth they once held. Instead, all I found was winter where autumn previously resided.

Then, his voice came out calm and detached.

“Enduring her was manageable because she served a purpose,” he said, then paused—during that pause, I felt something inside me tear apart as his gaze swept over me slowly, critically, as if assessing something broken. 

Disgust and disdain bled into his brown eyes, leaving no room for doubt, as he clicked his tongue and turned away, as though looking at me for even a second longer was unbearable.

“She’s nothing but an eyesore and an inconvenience now.”

Those words, spoken by the same man who once kissed my feet and promised me the world, pierced my heart like a perfectly aimed dagger.

Disbelief tore through my mind, leaving everything in disarray. My chest tightened painfully, breath hitching as the ache spread deeper, sharper. 

If my wolf were still alive, I was certain she would be writhing right now—howling in agony.

Agony born from betrayal from the sister we had trusted, shielded, and treated as blood—even when she was nothing more than the daughter of a mistress.

From the husband I had devoted my life to.

A thick, metallic scent suddenly filled my nose. It took a moment for me to realize it was coming from me. My gaze dropped slowly to my hands, and only then did I notice how deeply my nails had dug into my palm.

Blood seeped through my clenched fingers, trailing down my skin and splattering onto the floor.

When Maribel noticed it, she flinched. With a soft gasp, she quickly buried her face into Lucien’s chest, as though the sight of my blood repulsed her.

Lucien didn’t hesitate.

He wrapped his arms around her protectively, drawing her closer and shielding her from the very pain he had caused—while I, his wife, his mate and Luna, stood alone and watched it happen.

So this was it? I thought bitterly. 

After all the nights sacrificed health and social life to aid Lucien in leading the Ashbourne pack, he was going to betray me just like this.

Something hot and unfamiliar curled deep in my chest and a strange sensation fizzed beneath my skin, like something long-dormant was beginning to stir. 

From the bed, I caught the briefest change in Lucien’s expression. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion and disbelief flashing across his face. 

Beside him, Maribel stiffened.

They'd felt it too. I noticed—but I didn’t care.

Clenching my hands tighter, I took a step forward—

Out of nowhere, both sides of the double doors swung violently inward, slamming against the walls with a deafening crash that jolted me out of my trance.

Before I could even turn, the thundering sound of boots filled the air and the next second, my body was tackled from behind.

I hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. A soundless grunt tore from me as I struggled instinctively, hands scraping against the cold ground, but the weight pinning me down was unyielding.

Suddenly, an authoritative voice filled the room. 

“Luna Aveline of the Ashbourne Pack—no—Aveline Odeliah Thorne,” the figure towering above me declared coldly.

“You are under arrest for the assassination of Crown Prince Alpha Rhaedon Ashkaar of the Ashkaar Dominion!”

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