Ivy’s POV
I gasped awake, my body jerking upright as phantom pain lanced through my abdomen. My hands instinctively flew to my stomach, feeling for the jagged silver scars that should have been there. Nothing. Just smooth skin beneath my pajama top.
Disoriented, I glanced around the familiar bedroom—my bedroom from when I was eighteen—the lavender walls and white furniture a stark contrast to the sterile medical room where I had just been… dying.
"What the hell?" I whispered, stumbling out of bed toward the full-length mirror.
The reflection startled me. Gone was the 24-year-old woman whose life had been violently carved away. Instead, I saw myself at eighteen—slightly rounder cheeks, unmarked skin, and eyes that hadn’t yet witnessed ultimate betrayal.
The calendar on my wall confirmed it: May 15th. My eighteenth birthday. Six years before my murder.
I touched my face, trembling fingers tracing features I’d forgotten were once so youthful. "I’m… back?" The words felt hollow in my throat, memories of silver cutting through flesh still vivid in my mind.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Ivy? Sweetheart, are you awake? Happy birthday!"
My mother’s voice—alive, unbroken by grief—sent a shock through my system. The last time I’d seen her, she was being lowered into the ground, another casualty of my mate’s rage after my death.
"Mom?" My voice cracked as she entered.
Grace smiled, her amber eyes—identical to mine—crinkling at the corners. "There’s my birthday girl! I’ve made your favorite breakfast, and—" She stopped, noticing my expression. "Ivy? What’s wrong?"
I couldn’t help myself. I launched into her arms, inhaling her familiar scent of vanilla and citrus, feeling her warmth. She was real. She was here.
"Whoa!" She laughed, hugging me back. "What’s this about?"
I pulled back, trying to compose myself. How could I explain I’d been murdered by the man I was supposed to meet today? That I’d watched our unborn child being ripped from my body?
"Mom, I… I had a terrible nightmare." It wasn’t a lie. "About the Alpha’s son."
Her smile faltered. "Warren? What about him?"
My stomach clenched at his name. Six years of loving him, only to have him order my execution on the word of my stepsister.
"I don’t want to go to the party today," I said firmly. "I don’t want to meet him."
My mother’s brow furrowed. "Ivy, this isn’t like you. The meeting was arranged months ago. Your stepfather is expecting us to—"
"Please," I interrupted, gripping her hands. "Mom, I’m serious. I… I saw terrible things. He’ll hurt me. Us. I can feel it."
Something in my eyes must have convinced her because her expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What exactly did you see?"
"Death," I whispered, unable to stop the tear that slipped down my cheek. "Mine. Yours. Please, can we just leave? Go somewhere else? I don’t want to be here when he arrives."
She studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I’ll call Faith and make an excuse. We can drive to the city for your birthday instead."
Relief flooded through me. "Thank you."
"Ivy…" She hesitated. "You know these feelings, these warnings… they’re rare, but they happen. Your father’s bloodline—"
"Has always been sensitive to danger," I finished, remembering what she’d told me in my first life. Only now, the words carried weight I hadn’t understood before.
After she left to make arrangements, I sank onto my bed, mind racing. I had a second chance. A chance to avoid Warren, to save my mother, to prevent everything that had destroyed me.
I was plotting my next move when I heard a soft click from my adjoining bathroom. The door eased open, and there stood Jade—seventeen, already beautiful and venomous—phone pressed to her ear.
“”…I don’t care what happens to her,“” she was whispering, unaware I was awake. "If she becomes Warren’s mate, I’ll kill her myself. You heard me, I’m not letting that little bitch take what should be mine."
In my first life, I’d have cowered, pretended to be asleep, avoided confrontation. But now? Now I had seen my own insides spilled across a medical table. I’d felt my child die against my chest. I had nothing left to fear.
I stood, and Jade’s eyes widened when she saw me. "I’ll call you back," she muttered into the phone.
"Threatening to kill me before breakfast, Jade? That’s ambitious, even for you." My voice was steady, cold.
She recovered quickly, pasting on a cruel smile. "Eavesdropping is rude, Ivy. And what are you going to do about it? Run crying to Mommy?"
I moved toward her with deliberate steps, watching her confidence waver. She’d never seen me like this—no one had. The old Ivy was meek, desperate to be loved.
That Ivy had died on an operating table six years from now.
"You should know," I said conversationally, "that I heard everything. And unlike last time—" I caught myself, “”—unlike what you might think, I’m not afraid of you anymore.“”
"Last time?" She frowned, backing up. "What are you talking about?"
I ignored her question, closing the distance between us. "Let me make something perfectly clear. If you ever threaten me again, I will break more than your spirit."
Her eyes widened in mock horror. "Are you threatening me? You? The pathetic little omega who can’t even—"
My hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and twisting until I felt the satisfying crack of her finger breaking. Jade’s scream was music to my ears.
"What’s wrong with you?" she shrieked, cradling her hand. "You’re insane!"
I leaned in close, feeling something primal rise within me. "No, I’m an Alpha. And you will never touch what’s mine again."
Her face paled. "You’re not an Alpha. You can’t be."
I let my eyes flash gold, channeling the power I’d discovered too late in my previous life. "Get. Out."
The command hit her like a physical blow. Jade scrambled backward, her face contorted in confusion and fear. "This isn’t over," she hissed, but her voice trembled.
"Oh, I know," I smiled, baring my teeth. "It’s only just beginning."
After she fled, I turned back to the mirror, examining my reflection with new eyes. The innocent girl was gone, replaced by someone with purpose, with rage.
"Warren," I whispered to my reflection, "I’m coming for you. And this time, I won’t be the one who ends up bleeding."