Elena, a once-proud Luna, has been cursed by an ancient witch to live through an endless loop of love and heartbreak. In each reincarnation, Elena finds her destined mate-only to suffer rejection. The curse condemns her to repeat this cycle one hundred times, each life marked by fresh heartbreak and loss. Now, on her hundredth life, Elena awakens with memories from each past life intact and a fierce determination to break free. But time is running out, and her power is tied to the pain she's endured in each life, making each new encounter both a gift and a weight. This time, she has more allies and enemies than ever before. She meets Rylan, her current fated mate, an aloof and skeptical alpha scarred by betrayal in his own past. He doesn't want to be tied down by destiny, especially not to a mate who seems too mysterious to trust. But Elena is different now-older, wiser, and able to draw on powers she didn't realize she had. Her past lives have given her hidden strengths, but they're only unlocked through moments of great emotional clarity. To break the curse, she must gain not just Rylan's acceptance but also his trust, all while staying one step ahead of the witch determined to watch her suffer forever.
I jolted awake, heart racing, gasping as if I'd just surfaced from deep, icy water. Shadows swirled behind my eyes, the last remnants of the nightmare slipping away before I could grab hold of their meaning. They'd been the same for weeks now, these haunted dreams. Every time I thought I might finally understand them, they vanished, leaving me with nothing but an ache in my chest and a feeling like cold fingers had brushed over my skin. I shivered, rubbing at my arms, trying to shake off the lingering dread.
Light seeped into the room, soft and golden, painting the walls of my tiny cabin with the early morning glow. I rose slowly, pulling myself together as the outside world came into focus. The forest around our Moonshadow Pack's grounds was cloaked in mist, the thick, silvery fog trailing around the towering pine trees. I leaned against the window, my gaze tracing the familiar paths weaving through the village and off into the dark woods beyond. This was home, or at least the only home I'd ever known.
I swallowed, feeling the weight of another day settle on my shoulders. It wasn't that my life was especially hard-it was just... different. Unwelcome, sometimes. The pack didn't know about the curse. They didn't understand the way it followed me like a shadow. But I was used to that. With a deep breath, I pulled my thick, dark hair back, knotting it with a worn leather tie, and shrugged into my jacket. I had things to do, and I couldn't spend my morning wallowing in strange dreams.
As I stepped outside, the village was beginning to wake. A few early risers were already out, nodding to me as I passed. Some were friendly, offering quick smiles or a "Good morning, Elena," but others glanced away, shifting uncomfortably, as though being near me might rub off whatever misfortune they believed clung to me. The mix of reactions didn't surprise me; it was the same every morning. Years of whispers about my family, about "Elena with her unlucky fate," had etched themselves into the pack's memory. I'd learned to tune it out, focusing instead on what I could control-my strength, my focus, my ability to prove them all wrong.
My path led me to the training grounds, where a few other wolves were already gathering. I set down my water canteen and shrugged off my jacket, taking a few moments to stretch and center myself. My movements were quick and precise; I'd been doing this long enough that it was as natural as breathing.
"Morning, Elena," a familiar voice said.
I turned to see Aiden, one of the senior warriors, giving me a nod. He was a big guy, with a deep, rumbling voice and a quiet strength that made the other warriors respect him. I'd trained with him for years, and he was one of the few who never looked at me like I was a cracked vase that might shatter at any second.
"Morning, Aiden," I replied, flashing a quick smile.
He looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Rough night?"
I hesitated. "Just couldn't sleep," I said, leaving out the dreams. He didn't need to know about those.
He nodded, seeming to accept my answer without question. "All right. Let's see if we can work off some of that tiredness, then."
We lined up with the others, and I let myself sink into the routine, focusing on the familiar movements and the thud of my fists hitting the training dummy. It was satisfying in a way that few things were, feeling the resistance against my knuckles, pushing myself harder each time. With each punch, each kick, I could almost feel the whispers fading, like the force of my blows drowned them out. My body moved with the rhythm, my muscles straining and pulling, the world around me narrowing to just the target in front of me.
But then, just as I took a deep breath, bracing myself for another round, I felt it-a faint, prickling heat on my wrist. I glanced down, my heart sinking as I saw the familiar mark glowing faintly beneath my skin. It was a twisted, looping symbol, almost like an ancient rune, and it pulsed with a soft, eerie light that seemed to seep up from somewhere deep within me.
I quickly covered my wrist with my sleeve, hoping no one else had noticed. I couldn't let them see. Not that anyone would likely understand, but it was better this way. Safer.
I pushed myself harder, finishing the morning session with every ounce of strength I had left. When it finally ended, I was drenched in sweat, my muscles throbbing with the satisfying ache of effort. A few of the others were watching me with wary glances, and I caught snippets of whispered words-"cursed," "bad luck," "different." I met their eyes with a steady, unflinching gaze, refusing to let them see the sting their words brought.
After training, I made my way to a small pool that lay just beyond the training grounds. It was a quiet spot, tucked away among the trees, where the water lay calm and still, reflecting the early morning sky like a mirror. I crouched beside it, splashing water on my face, letting the coolness soothe my heated skin.
As I looked down, though, something strange happened. For just a second, as I gazed into the water, my reflection shifted. I blinked, startled, leaning closer. It wasn't my face looking back at me-it was someone older, with shadows under her eyes and a haunted expression. She looked... tired, broken, as though she had seen more than any one person should have to bear. And the worst part? She looked back at me with a fierce, aching longing, as though reaching out through the depths of time itself.
I jerked back, my heart hammering. When I looked again, it was just my own face staring back, wide-eyed and pale, the morning mist swirling around me. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow my breathing, feeling that strange ache settle in again. What had I just seen? And why did it feel so... familiar?
I forced myself to stand, brushing off the feeling as best as I could, though it clung to me like the fog, persistent and heavy. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe it was the curse, creeping in like it always did, casting shadows over everything.
As I made my way back toward the village, I tried to shake off the memory of the reflection, the strange, longing gaze. But deep down, I knew that whatever I'd seen wasn't just some trick of the light. It felt too real, too personal, like it was tied to something deep within me that I had yet to uncover.
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