Chapter 2

“Nara? Are you okay?”

My eyes snap open, breath hitching.

Damian.

He’s leaning over me, his face etched with concern. His blond hair is tousled in that familiar, boyish way I haven’t seen in three years—not since before he betrayed me. His eyes—soft, warm, kind—lock onto mine, searching for something.

My heart pounds. What the hell?

We’re in… my room.

Not the barren cell where I was left to rot, nor the cold closet I was shoved into for years. This room—brown walls, pink comforter, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains—the Luna’s room. The one I was banished from the day Rosalina arrived and took everything from me.

My lips part, but nothing comes out. How…?

“Nara?” Damian’s voice pulls me back again. He reaches out, and I flinch instinctively, expecting the cruel grip, the slap, the snarl. But his hand is gentle—just like before. His fingers graze my cheek, then slide to my forehead, checking for fever, not violence.

“You’re not warm…” he murmurs, brow furrowing. “You don’t feel sick.”

I can’t breathe. Questions choke me, tears burn my eyes, but before I can speak, my wolf howls inside me, wild with excitement.

The moon saved us! she cries. She turned back time!

Time? I freeze. A cold knot forms in my stomach. If this is real… I know exactly when we are.

The day where everything changed.

“Where’s Lucian?” I ask, barely above a whisper.

Damian’s head tilts, confusion flickering in his gaze. Worry returns as he gently pulls me into his lap, cradling me like I’m made of glass. One hand pets my hair, the other strokes my back in soothing circles. The sensation sends a shiver racing down my spine—a touch I thought I’d never feel again.

I want to cry. I want to savor him, just for a moment, before he destroys me again. Before he meets Rosalina. Before he chooses her and throws me to the wolves.

“Lucian’s out handling some rogues,” Damian says softly. “He told you last night, remember? Are you sure you slept okay?”

No. No, I didn’t. You watched me die. You let Lucian shoot me in the head and called me a whore before I took my last breath.

I want to scream it.

To shove his betrayal into his face and watch his world shatter.

But he wouldn’t believe me. Not yet.

“I… I was working late. On the pack finances,” I lie, my voice steady despite the storm inside.

His face lights up with a grin. “Our beautiful Luna, always so dedicated.”

I force a smile. Oh, Damian. You used to praise me like this every day. For the smallest things. A kind word, a warm laugh, a kiss on the forehead—you made me feel loved. Wanted.

His hand slips beneath my shirt, fingers teasing the skin of my lower back. My wolf stirs, pressing beneath my skin, desperate to claim what’s hers, desperate for the love we’ve been starved of for years.

Part of me wants to push him away.

Remember what he did.

But I ache for comfort. For warmth. For him.

I lean into the touch, shuddering, and his grin turns wolfish.

“Maybe our hardworking Luna deserves a moment to unwind…” he murmurs, breath warm against my neck.

The heat of him, the scent of him, pulls a moan from my lips. I melt into his arms, need overpowering reason. He takes it as an invitation, flipping me onto the bed, his weight pressing me down, familiar and overwhelming. My hips rise to meet his instinctively, years of longing and betrayal colliding.

He chuckles, voice low, teasing. “You’re eager this morning, aren’t you?”

I open my mouth—to stop this, to plead, to beg for a promise.

Be different this time. Don’t leave me. Don’t kill me.

But the words catch in my throat.

A sharp knock at the door slices through the moment.

Damian slides off me with an annoyed grunt, his body still heavy with want. My gaze dips, betraying me, and a flicker of excitement coils in my stomach at the sight of the tent in his jeans. He notices, of course. His smirk is lazy, teasing.

“Eyes up, Luna,” he murmurs, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval.

But he doesn’t bother to hide himself when he strides to the door, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. I should be basking in the heat of the moment, in the rare tenderness that’s been lost to me for so long—but it all shatters the second the door creaks open.

“Alpha Lucian is back. I think you both should come downstairs.”

The words slam into me, a cold dagger to the chest. My lungs seize, and a wave of déjà vu drowns me, choking and inescapable.

No.

No, no, no.

I thought I had more time. I thought I could hold on for just a little longer—to Damian, to this moment, to the illusion. But life, just like before, gives me no choice.

Just as in my memories, Damian sighs in exasperation at the Beta’s interruption. Then he turns to me, his smile softening, none the wiser to the storm tearing me apart inside. He reaches out, offering his hand. I hesitate for a heartbeat—but take it. He helps me up, adjusts the strap of my summer dress, fingers brushing my shoulder like a lover, then laces his fingers with mine.

I want to scream.

I want to dig my heels into the ground, claw at the walls, refuse to walk into hell again.

But I don’t. I can’t.

I am the Luna of the Moonlit Pack, and I have to welcome the Alpha’s fated mate.

The girl who will ruin my life—again.

My face tightens into a smile as I follow Damian out of the room, each step like walking toward my execution.

The pack house is exactly as I remember—warm wooden floors, sunlit hall, laughter echoing against high ceilings. The same walls that witnessed my death minutes ago, the same halls that three years ago opened to the girl who shattered everything.

I descend the stairs slowly, Damian’s hand still wrapped around mine. The pack is already gathered, eyes bright with curiosity. They greet me cheerfully—ignorant, innocent. Their Luna. Their beloved.

Dorothee stands to the side, leaning against the banister with her usual easy grin. My heart seizes. My best friend—alive. She beams at me, teeth flashing, unaware that in another timeline, she died in my arms, blood soaking my dress as she fought to protect me from Rosalina’s schemes.

I almost collapse right there.

Not this time. I swear it to myself. I won’t let her die for me again. I won’t let anyone else suffer because of me.

At the far end of the open hall, the double doors swing open. My breath halts, and instinctively I clench Damian’s hand, as if holding him tighter could keep Rosalina’s pull at bay, could stop him from vanishing from my life again.

It won’t.

But I can’t help it.

My mind drifts back—to childhood, to a simpler time when I thought love could protect us. Damian and Lucian’s mother had been best friends with mine. They’d both become pregnant at the same time, dreaming of a future where their children would be inseparable.

And they were.

From the day I was born, the twins were my world. My childhood friends. My protectors. My home. When my mother died, their family took me in, raised me as one of their own. I became a Moonlit by name, not just by love. Their mother saw the bond between us—how I adored her sons, and how they adored me.

None of us had met our fated mates. But we vowed to stand together, no matter what.

We chose each other.

They chose me.

When Damian and Lucian became Alphas, we completed the bond, and I became their Luna.

We promised to reject our fated mates if they ever came.

We swore it.

But when Rosalina arrived, radiant and golden, chosen by the Moon herself, they didn’t hesitate.

They never rejected her.

How could I ever compare to that?

How could I stand against fate?

I watch as Rosalina steps through the double doors, golden hair glinting in the summer light, her clothes tattered and clinging to her skin like a tragic heroine from a storybook. One leg is clumsily wrapped in blood-stained bandages, and she leans heavily on Lucian for support, playing the victim to perfection.

At my side, Damian freezes, his hand still in mine—but his body already gone.

In the past, I’d begged them not to let the mate bond take root, to stay loyal, to reject her before it was too late. But they had refused—choosing her over me without hesitation. I won’t make that mistake again. I won’t give them the villainess they so desperately want.

I swallow the bile rising in my throat and steady my smile.

“Alpha Damian. Luna Nara,” the Beta announces formally, “Alpha Lucian has returned.”

Damian doesn’t speak. He rips his hand from mine, the warmth vanishing instantly, and rushes forward like a man possessed. The world around him ceases to exist. He doesn’t look back. He never does.

I stand frozen as I watch the man I once called mine slip away—just like before.

I force my feet to move, step by step, closing the distance between us with measured calm. Lucian’s eyes meet mine over the crowd. There’s a flicker of apology, yes—but also cold resolution, something I never noticed before. In his mind, his choice is already made. He won’t let her go.

“Mate!” Damian’s voice breaks through the hall, filled with awe and tenderness, as he gathers Rosalina in his arms, cradling her like she’s the most fragile thing in the world.

The crowd gasps, the word rippling through them like wildfire, whispers of shock and confusion swirling all around us. The pack’s attention pivots, a storm of eyes and questions, their Luna already forgotten.

I approach, slow and deliberate, each step feeling like a noose tightening around my neck. I can already see Lucian’s body tense, his arm shielding Rosalina as I draw near—as if I’m the threat.

“Nara, this isn’t what you think,” Lucian says sharply, his voice tight with control. Always the composed one, emotion buried beneath layers of duty. Damian may act with his heart, but Lucian? He plans. He calculates. He would’ve waited, I know it—lingered one second longer at my side, had fate not delivered her into his arms first.

But he met her out there, alone, wounded, and had all the time in the world to fall under her spell before returning home.

“And what is it that I think?” I reply, my voice light as air, smile still fixed in place like a mask. I tilt my head, eyes wide, playing the role they forced upon me for years—innocent, gracious, obedient. I’ve learned from the best.

I see him falter—just for a second.

Then Rosalina steps forward, still nestled in Damian’s arms, her voice small and sweet.

“Luna, I—I’m so sorry,” she stammers, guilt shimmering in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose…”