Reborn To Reclaim My Fated Alpha

Alexia POV:

The cold was absolute.

Not the chill of a winter morning, but a deep, penetrating cold that seeped into my bones and turned the marrow to ice.

Pain followed, sharp and splintering. I felt my bones snap one by one, a sickening crunch echoing inside my skull - Damien Blackwood's final masterpiece of torture.

The air was thick with the coppery tang of my blood and the damp, earthy smell of the cellar. Despair pressed down on my chest, making each breath a ragged, useless effort.

"You will always be mine."

His voice, a venomous whisper, slithered through the fog of my fading consciousness. Then, nothing.

Until suddenly, everything.

The pain vanished. The scent of blood and mold was replaced by clean lavender and sunshine. The weight lifted from my chest, and air rushed into my lungs in a desperate, burning gasp.

I shot upright, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Blinding, unwelcome light flooded my vision. I blinked, tears streaming down my cheeks as my eyes struggled to adjust.

Pale purple walls. A white ceiling with a delicate crystal chandelier.

My sixteen-year-old bedroom.

My breath hitched. Slowly, hesitantly, I lifted my hands. They were pale, slender, and unmarred - no scars, no chain marks. Just the smooth, flawless skin of a girl who had never known true suffering.

This had to be a hallucination, a final cruel trick my mind was playing before the end.

My fingers trembled as I reached out and pinched the flesh of my forearm. Hard.

A sharp, clean sting bloomed under the skin. Real. It was real.

I threw back the soft duvet and scrambled out of bed, my legs unsteady. The floorboards were cool beneath my bare feet. I stumbled to the full-length mirror in the corner, and my reflection emerged from the blur.

A young face stared back at me. Too young. The cheeks still rounded with youth, the eyes wide and terrified but not yet hollowed out by years of torment.

My gaze darted to the calendar on my desk. The date was circled in red ink with a little smiley face next to it. It confirmed the impossible.

I was back. Sixteen years in the past.

A wave of dizzying, hysterical joy crashed over me. I pressed my hands to my mouth, stifling a sob that was half laughter, half relief. A second chance. I could escape Damien. I could escape it all.

The elation was a fire in my veins, but it was quickly followed by icy dread as the memories of this specific day flooded back.

Katrina. My sister.

This was the day she had convinced me to run away with her to Sunstone Ridge. A silly, childish adventure, she'd called it.

In my first life, I'd foolishly agreed. On the trail, my foot was caught in a hunter's trap. The steel jaws had torn through my ankle, shattering the bone. And Katrina... Katrina had looked back once, her eyes wide with something that wasn't concern, but a chilling sort of relief, before she turned and ran, leaving me to my fate.

That injury had caused me to miss my Awakening ceremony. It branded me a coward, a runaway. It was the first, decisive step on the path to my ruin.

My eyes shot down to my ankle. Perfect. Smooth skin, delicate bone. No trace of the hideous, puckered scar that had been a constant reminder of my sister's betrayal.

A deeper, more terrifying thought took hold: if I was back, what about her?

With a surge of adrenaline, I hooked my fingers into the collar of my silk nightgown and yanked it down, baring my left shoulder.

My heart stopped.

Where a distinct, wolf-shaped birthmark-the mark of my fated bond to a powerful Alpha-should have been, there was only a distorted smudge. The elegant outline of the wolf had been blurred and twisted into a crude, unrecognizable star.

My blood ran cold.

I lunged toward Katrina's side of the room, a shared space I had long since forgotten. Her vanity was neat, her perfumes arranged in a perfect line. I tore open the top drawer of her nightstand, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

There, tucked away beneath a stack of diaries, was a small, nearly empty vial of the greenish paste.

I recognized it immediately - Moonpetal paste, an herb that could temporarily alter the appearance of a birthmark. I had read about it in an old grimoire in my past life, never expecting to find it in Katrina's drawer.

The evidence was irrefutable, and the truth hit me with the force of a physical blow.

Katrina was back, too.

And she had been back for longer. She had acted first. She had altered my destiny mark, trying to steal my fate, to push me onto the path that had led to her own miserable end in our previous life.

But she didn't know. All she saw was that I became the "moon"of some powerful Alpha. She never knew what happened to me after that.

So she stole my birthmark, thinking she'd stolen a path paved with glory. But she had no idea what awaited her ahead.

Just then, light, cheerful footsteps approached the door, followed by a soft knock.

"Alexia, are you ready? It's time to head to Sunstone Ridge."

Katrina's voice was as sweet and melodic as I remembered - a sound that now made my stomach clench with ice.

I quickly shoved the vial back into the drawer and smoothed my nightgown, schooling my features into a mask of calm. But behind my eyes, a blizzard was raging.

I looked at the closed door, and I didn't see my sister.

I saw the architect of my damnation.

The joy of my rebirth was gone, incinerated by a cold, clear, all-consuming hatred.