Chapter 1
I woke up choking.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. My hands flew to my chest, clawing at my shirt, searching for the wound. I expected blood. Pain. Silver burning through bone.
There was nothing.
No blade.
No blood.
No pain.
I sucked in air, sharp and fast, like I'd been underwater too long. The air was cold and clean. It filled my lungs without resistance.
That alone was wrong.
When silver went through your heart, you didn't wake up.
I rolled onto my side, coughing. The ground under me was solid. Dry. Grass and dirt instead of mud and blood.
Slowly, carefully, I pushed myself up.
The world tilted, then steadied.
I looked down at my hands.
No blood.
No shaking.
No death.
My shirt was whole. No tear. No stain.
My heart began to pound.
I stood too fast. The motion sent a wave of dizziness through me, but I stayed upright. I pressed both hands flat against my chest.
Nothing.
The bond wasn't broken.
It was quiet. Distant. But it was there.
Alive.
That scared me more than anything.
I forced myself to look around.
The clearing wasn't the execution ground.
It was smaller. Younger. The old oak near the edge stood whole, its bark dark and unscarred.
Three years ago, lightning had split that tree in half.
I stared at it.
Then I turned slowly in a circle.
The training clearing.
The one we used before dawn runs.
My stomach dropped.
"No," I whispered.
The air smelled different. Fresher. No tension. No fear. No scent of a pack on edge.
Just morning. Damp earth. Pine.
I stumbled backward until my legs hit the fallen log near the edge of the clearing. I sat without meaning to.
Three years.
The thought came slow. Careful. Like my mind didn't want to touch it.
Three years ago, I had come here early to train alone.
Three years ago, everything had still been normal.
Before the rogue attacks.
Before the accusations.
Before the execution.
My hands began to shake.
I pressed them between my knees and focused on breathing.
In. Out.
If this was a dream, it felt too real.
If this was death… it didn't feel like it.
I closed my eyes and reached inward.
The mate bond answered.
Faint. Steady.
Alive.
Kael was alive.
I jerked to my feet.
The movement came with a rush of memory.
His face over mine. His hands covered in my blood. His voice breaking when he said my name.
I swallowed hard.
Alive.
That meant only one thing.
I hadn't died.
Or I had.
And somehow, I had come back.
The sound of footsteps hit the edge of the clearing.
I froze.
They were light. Controlled. Someone who knew how to move without drawing attention.
Not a trainee.
Not a child.
I didn't turn right away.
My heart beat harder with every step that came closer.
I already knew that walk.
I turned.
The Beta stepped out of the trees.
Marcus looked exactly the same.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. His expression calm and steady, like nothing ever surprised him.
Like nothing ever touched him.
Alive.
Three years ago, he had been Kael's right hand. Trusted. Loyal. Quiet.
Three years later, he had stood behind Kael the night I died.
Watching.
Smiling.
My stomach twisted.
"Lyra," he said.
His voice was warm. Easy. Like we were just packmates crossing paths.
Like he hadn't watched me bleed out.
"There you are. Kael's been looking for you."
The world tilted again.
I forced myself to breathe slowly.
This wasn't the future.
This Marcus hadn't betrayed anyone yet.
Or maybe he had.
Maybe this was where it started.
I kept my face blank.
"Why?" I asked.
My voice sounded normal. That alone felt like a victory.
Marcus stepped closer, stopping a few feet away. Close enough that I caught his scent.
Calm.
Balanced.
No guilt. No tension.
If he was lying, he was very good at it.
"Patrol assignments changed," he said. "He wants you on the west border today."
West border.
That was where the first rogue sighting happened.
Two weeks later, the attack came.
And somehow, the rogues had known exactly where our patrols would be.
I looked at Marcus.
He watched me steadily. Patient. Waiting.
Three years ago, I hadn't questioned anything.
Now every word felt like a piece on a board I didn't understand yet.
"I'll be there," I said.
His eyes stayed on my face a second longer than necessary.
Then he nodded.
"Good. He was worried when you didn't show up this morning."
Worried.
The word hit harder than it should have.
Kael.
Alive.
Looking for me.
The bond pulsed again, faint but steady.
I forced the reaction down.
Marcus turned to leave, then paused.
"You alright?" he asked.
I met his eyes.
This time, I let a little distance show. Just enough.
"I didn't sleep well," I said.
He studied me for a moment.
Then he nodded again.
"Try to get some rest tonight," he said. "We may need you sharp soon."
Need you.
The words felt heavier than they should have.
Marcus walked back into the trees without another glance.
I stood there long after his scent faded.
The clearing felt smaller now.
Too quiet.
Too familiar.
Three years.
I had three years before the execution.
Three years before the evidence appeared.
Three years before the pack turned on me.
Three years to change everything.
Fear pressed in first.
If I stayed, the same things could happen again.
The same patrol leaks.
The same attacks.
The same accusations.
And this time, I would know exactly how it ended.
Then something harder settled under the fear.
Determination.
If I stayed… I could watch.
I could listen.
I could find out who had really fed information to the rogues.
Because it hadn't been me.
And now I knew someone inside the pack had made sure the blame landed on my shoulders.
Marcus's face rose in my mind.
Calm. Controlled. Watching.
Smiling in the shadows the night I died.
My hands curled into fists.
Not this time.
I turned toward the path that led back to the pack houses.
The bond stirred again, pulling faintly in the direction of the Alpha's quarters.
Kael.
Three years ago, I had trusted him without question.
Three years later, he had put a blade through my heart.
The memory hit hard enough to stop my steps.
I stood there, breathing through it.
This wasn't the same Kael.
This one hadn't failed me yet.
But I couldn't forget what he was capable of.
Trust had gotten me killed.
I started walking again.
If I wanted the truth, I needed distance.
Distance from the Alpha.
Distance from the Beta.
Distance from the pack itself.
Because if the rogues had known our patrol routes…
If the evidence against me had been planted…
Then someone inside Silver Crest had wanted me dead.
And this time, I planned to find out who.
Even if it meant leaving everything behind.
Even if it meant walking away from my mate.
The bond tightened once, like it felt the decision.
I ignored it.
By the time I reached the edge of the pack grounds, my plan was already forming.
I wouldn't wait for the accusations.
I wouldn't stay long enough to be framed.
I would leave.
Disappear before the first attack.
Watch from a distance.
And when the lies started moving again—
I'd be ready.
Because I had already died once.
I wasn't giving anyone the chance to do it again.