Arabelle was still sitting on the floor, her body trembling as she gasped for breath. The man's sharp gaze seemed as though he wanted to skin her alive. She panicked when she saw him, then breathed a sigh of relief when he finally walked out of the room. Yet at the same time, fear still gripped her heart because she didn't know where she actually was.
Arabelle began to look around to find out where she was. She still clearly remembered what had happened. She should have been in the hospital, not in such a luxurious room.
Later on, Arabelle approached the large mirror in the room. Her eyes returned to staring intently at the large mirror. The shadows reflected there, making her stare. Lovely long hair, a luscious face, bright glowing skin, but unfortunately it wasn't her. Then who?
Her trembling hands touched her cheeks, lips, and eyes one by one, and everything felt unfamiliar to her.
"This isn't me..." she sobbed. "Then who's this body?"
At the exact same moment, a name echoed in her mind. The woman's name was Irish Winter.
A sense of pain pierced her head, as if something was forcing its way into her mind. Fragments of scenes began to appear, in which a woman dressed in luxurious clothes stood at the altar with a beaming grin on her beautiful face, while the man with her wore a black suit. There was never a smile on that man's face. She held her head, which hurt more and more as the shadows flitted about incessantly. The man even said, "This is just a contract marriage, you should know the rules."
Arabelle realized that the memory wasn't hers, but rather belonged to the owner of the body. The pain in her head intensified, leading her to fall to her knees while clutching her temples. Another flashback attacked her mind. The happy laughter of a woman and aman who had been staring at her with penetrating eyes, now looked at the woman with a gaze full of love. It was such a stark contrast that it made her chest feel tight for no discernible reason.
Her feelings grew more unsettled when she noticed that she had entered the world of a novel. "Have I really entered that novel? And am I currently in Irish Winter's body?"
After remaining silent for quite some time, the pain gradually subsided. With a blank stare, she recalled memories of the plot of The Alpha of Dominion, which she had read before the accident.
The novel tells the story of a Luna named Seraphina Castellan, a woman deeply loved by Shawn Crowe of the Dominion Pack. Shawn is known as a strong, cold, and cruel figure—a leader who will not hesitate to destroy anyone for the sake of his loved ones.
To protect Seraphina from her enemies, Shawn enters into a contract marriage with a girl named Irish Winters, a minor character who only appears occasionally in the story.
Irish is just an ordinary human who knows nothing about the world of wolves. Shawn offers her a large sum of money in exchange for the contract marriage.
As the days passed, Irish unknowingly fell in love with Shawn, but at the same time, she discovered the bitter truth that she was only a shield to protect Seraphina, the woman Shawn truly loved.
Unable to accept this reality, Iris revealed the secret to Shawn's enemies. As a result of her actions, Seraphina was kidnapped and taken hostage. Upon learning this, Shawn lost control. Overcome with rage, he killed Irish without giving her a chance to explain.
After killing Irish, Shawn took out his anger on his enemies. He killed them one by one in a very cruel manner, until he finally managed to rescue Seraphina.
A month later, Shawn married Seraphina and they lived peacefully under the moonlight, while the name Irish Winters faded away, never to be mentioned again.
Her breath caught in her throat, fear and disbelief mingling together as she found herself trapped in the novel she was reading. If the story continued as it did in the novel, then sooner or later, she would meet the same inevitable end—death.
Soon after, there was a knock at the door. Arabelle turned and quietly allowed the person to enter.
The door opened, revealing a young servant walking in carrying a tray with a cup of tea and warm snacks for her. "Is Mrs. Irish feeling better?" he asked politely as he placed the tray on the small table next to the bed.
Arabelle looked at him uncertainly. Instead of answering, she asked a question in return. "Actually... what happened to me?"
"You fainted after arguing with Mr. Shawn," the servant replied carefully.
Arabelle didn't really care what had caused the Irishman and Shawn to argue. What mattered most to her now was how long she had been that man's contract wife. So, hesitantly, she asked again, "How long have we been married? Sorry, I've forgotten," she stammered.
"Sir and Madam officially became husband and wife a few days ago," replied the maid softly. "I'm Lily, the maid assigned directly by Sir to serve Madam," she continued with a smile.
Arabelle nodded slowly. "Thank you, Lily, for the tea and snacks," Arabelle said with a faint smile.
"You may leave now, as I'm going to rest," she added.
"If you need anything, you can call me directly," Lily said politely.
Arabelle simply nodded in response, then watched the door slowly close behind Lily's retreating steps.
Arabelle only responded with a small nod, then looked at the door which slowly closed behind Lily's retreating steps.
After Lily left, Arabelle hugged herself. Fear enveloped his heart again because he didn't know anyone in this strange place and didn't know who to trust. Arabelle paced back and forth, trying to find a way out of the novel world that had now trapped her.
Her face paled again as she remembered Irish's tragic end, where she had died at the hands of the man she loved with all her heart.
Slowly, Arabelle walked to the large window of the room, gazing at the moonlit night sky, as if searching for answers amidst the silence that engulfed her.
Arabelle continued to stare at the moon, as if hypnotized by its light that illuminated the entire Dominion. Little did she know, in her new world, the moon was not merely a celestial decoration, but a symbol of the werewolves' power, a symbol of change and the destiny of every inhabitant of the region, including herself. And tonight, the moon was a harbinger of the destiny Arabelle would confront.
Moments later, the fear in Arabelle's eyes began to fade, replaced by a determination she had never seen before. She stared at her reflection in the moonlight, as if making a promise to it. The Dominion might not be hers, but as long as she breathed, she would not let Irish Winters' story end in death. In the distance, the howls of wolves could be heard faintly, as if heralding the birth of a new destiny that would begin to be rewritten tonight.
Arabelle clenched her fists, her lips moving slowly, but her voice filled with determination.
"Want to rejoice over Irish's death? Dream on, Shawn. Because now I—Arabelle—will take his place... and will change his destiny."