Air tore into my lungs.
I jolted upright with a gasp, fingers clawing at my throat.
No blood.
No wound.
No silver blade.
I was alive.
The room around me was unfamiliar — silk curtains, carved wooden walls, the faint scent of lavender instead of marble and moonlight. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, warm and ordinary.
Ordinary.
My heart pounded violently as I stumbled out of bed.
This wasn't my chamber in the Northern Palace.
This wasn't the ceremonial hall.
And these—
I lifted my hands slowly.
They were smaller.
Slender.
Unscarred.
My breath turned shallow.
"No…" I whispered.
Across the room stood a tall mirror framed in gold. My legs felt weak as I forced myself toward it.
The woman staring back at me was not Lyra Hale.
Her hair was darker. Her cheekbones sharper. A faint beauty mark rested beneath her left eye — a mark I had never had.
But the terror in those eyes?
That was mine.
I touched the mirror.
The reflection copied me perfectly.
"I died," I breathed.
Memories crashed over me — the blade, the bond snapping, Kael's voice in my ear.
You were never meant to live past tonight.
A sudden knock struck the door.
I flinched.
"Lady Selene?" a maid called gently. "Are you awake? The Alpha of the Western Territory has arrived."
Lady… Selene?
The name hit like thunder.
Selene Valeris.
Daughter of the Eastern Council.
I knew that name.
She had been a minor noble — quiet, politically irrelevant.
And she had died three years ago from an illness.
My stomach dropped.
I turned back to the mirror slowly.
"Five years…" I whispered.
The last thing I remembered was my execution.
If Selene died three years ago—
That meant five years had passed since my death.
The maid knocked again. "My lady? The Alpha requests your presence."
The Alpha of the Western Territory.
There was only one man who ruled the West.
Alpha Kael Ravaryn.
My mate.
My murderer.
Alive.
Breathing.
And standing somewhere in this very palace.
A strange sensation curled low in my chest.
Faint.
Weak.
But unmistakable.
The mate bond.
It shouldn't exist.
He killed me.
He broke it.
Yet beneath the confusion and fear, something burned.
Slow.
Smoldering.
Unfinished.
My lips parted as realization dawned.
He could feel it too.