Chapter 3

“Because you and Kael are the same,” I said smoothly. “You both worship that dusty old law book.”

Seraphine froze for a beat, then gave a sharp little laugh. “Don’t pretend it’s nobility. You just know you can’t hold that position. Once Kael realizes I’m the real bride, he’ll be relieved.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head. “That sure of yourself?”

“Of course.” Smugness dripped from every word. “I follow the rules. I know when to be silent and when to pray. You?” Her gaze dragged over me from head to toe. “You’re a wild, ill‑mannered mutt. An Alpha’s Luna is supposed to represent honor, not be a walking stain.”

She bit down hard on “mutt,” like she enjoyed the taste.

In my last life, that would’ve crushed me.

This time, I just looked at her the way you look at a little dog barking at its own reflection.

“If you’re that perfect,” I said slowly, “why didn’t you just go tell Kael? Step into the center of the hall and shout, ‘Alpha, I’m your true Luna.’”

Her face tightened. “I want to surprise him.”

“Or is it because you know,” I went on, “that for all your rules and prayers, your scent is so faint a real Alpha would be bored before he finished a breath?”

“Shut up!”

I shrugged. “Relax. I’m not interested in playing some childish competition for a man. You can bow, scrape, and pray all you want.”

She stared hard at me, like she was trying to figure out if I actually meant it.

“Just make sure your performance is flawless. You’re the one who’ll be standing at the altar.”

She slapped my wrist away and stormed out.

The next evening, I ignored the white gown she’d picked and went to the banquet in a V‑neck dress.

When it was time for the Lunar Waltz, the room’s attention shifted toward the Alpha.

Kael walked down from the head of the table, steady as always.

He came straight toward me—close enough that, for a moment, I thought he might actually stop in front of me, fulfill that stupid “Alpha and future Luna open the dance” tradition.

Instead, he lifted his hand and reached past me.

“Seraphine.”

His fingers extended toward the one in white satin, throat modestly covered to the chin.

She ducked her head, pretending fluster, and placed her hand in his.

Whispers rose at once:

“Isn’t Raven the contracted Luna? Why invite Seraphine?”

“Do you really need to ask? Look at how she’s dressed. No respect for the occasion.” Someone lowered their voice, but not enough to keep it from reaching me.

“On nights like this, women wear white gowns. Purity. She shows up in that… way too wild.”

Kael didn’t bother to hide where he stood. He glanced my way. “You don’t know the formal steps anyway. Stand there and watch. Learn what grace looks like.”

Then he led Seraphine into the center of the dance floor.

Music started. Their movements were textbook: correct frame, precise distance, every angle perfect.

I lasted less than a minute before my mind checked out.

All I saw were two mannequins posed on an altar.

I grabbed a drink and walked out without a backward look.

Outside, no one cared what I was doing. I kicked off my heels, let my feet sink into the ground, and moved to the beat in my own head.

No orchestra, no rules, no eyes to please.

Just me and my pulse.

That was the only rhythm I wanted.

“You hiding out here because your feelings got hurt?”

Seraphine’s voice cut across my thoughts.

“You must be so jealous after what you just saw,” she said, pretending concern. “Reality’s simple—an Alpha always chooses the better fit.”

“Jealous?” I lifted my gaze to her. “Of those two props out there?”

She ignored that. “You know exactly how this works. Put you and me in front of any Alpha, and he’ll choose me. A Luna needs poise, obedience, pure blood—not a freak with cursed eyes.”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Just like your mother lost to mine. Now it’s your turn, same ending. Failure’s in your DNA.”

My fingers curled into my palms.

She dared drag my mother into it.

For a split second I saw my mother in that hospital bed from my last life—head bowed, begging on my behalf while elders spat the words “tainted bloodline” at her.

Heat surged through my chest.

“Say one more word about my mother—”

I didn’t finish.

Seraphine suddenly let out a perfectly pitched scream, stumbled backward, and “slipped,” crashing into the pool behind her.

The banquet exploded. “Seraphine fell in!”

In my past life, this was where I’d throw my hands up, babbling, “It wasn’t me, I didn’t touch her,” on the verge of tears, terrified no one would believe me.

This time, I didn’t even twitch.

I stood at the edge of the pool and watched her flail.

Kael was the first to arrive. He went straight into the water, no hesitation, and hauled her out.

She clung to him, trembling. “Kael, I was so scared. Raven… she said I tried to take her place.”

He looked up at me.

His eyes were already tinged red, Alpha rage thick in the air.

“Why did you push her?” His voice was soft and lethal.

“I didn’t touch her.” I stayed where I was. “If you want the truth, try cooling off first.”

“Apologize,” he cut in. “Now. On your knees.”

I let out a short laugh. “Did you drink silver? I didn’t push her. I’m not apologizing for a lie.”

Whatever restraint he had left snapped. “You are this pack’s future Luna. That’s exactly why I won’t let you keep trampling the law.”

Every word came out clipped. “From now on, every time you step out of line, I’ll crush it.”

His Beta, Throne, was already beside him. “Alpha?”

“Take her to the Moon Spring,” Kael said, voice like metal. “Three‑hour cleansing. Start now.”

Hands locked around my arms from behind before I could move.

“You don’t dare—” I started, then my wrist was twisted, my body pinned.

Last time, I’d cried on this walk. Begged. Called his name. Convinced myself he’d soften.

This time, I just spat out, “You really are blind, Kael.”

The Moon Spring was knife‑cold, laced with silver, designed to “purify” disobedient Lunas.

They shoved my head under.

The first mouthful of ice water tore through my chest like glass.

I clawed my way up, lungs burning, barely grabbed a breath before a hand slammed me under again.

Once. Twice. Over and over.

“Kael, you rabid—”

Water shoved the rest of the insult back down my throat.

“Continue,” Kael said, calm and merciless. “Or she’ll never learn.”

Learn what?

How to grind myself into the obedient shape they wanted?

He wasn’t “teaching a Luna.” He was correcting a wolf that refused to heel.

White‑hot pain tore through me, stealing my breath.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

And then everything went black.