Penny POV
The taste of blood fills my mouth as consciousness slams back into my body. I'm not dead.
My fingers clutch the smooth stone beneath me, not the cold metal of the execution platform. The scent of roasted meat and pack sweat floods my nostrils instead of my own spilled blood. Voices echo around me laughter, conversations, the clink of goblets.
"Penny! Get up, you lazy thing."A boot nudges my ribs. I open my eyes to find Mira standing over me, her Beta aura pressing down like a weight. Three years younger than my death age, she still has that cruel smile that used to make my stomach twist.
"Sorry, I" I pushed myself up from where I'd apparently collapsed beside the servant's table. "I must have fainted."
"Pathetic." Mira's lip curls. "Clean up this mess and get to the kitchens. The evening meal won't prepare itself."
But I am confused. I'm twenty-four years old again. The scar on my left palm from a kitchen accident last month is gone—it hasn't happened yet. The silver streak in my hair from the System's mark isn't there. My body feels smaller, weaker. Three years. I've gone back three years in time.
"The kitchen staff is already behind schedule," Mira says, gesturing toward the doorway of our cramped quarters. "Move faster."
Kitchen duty. Right. I'm still an Omega. Still at the bottom of the pack hierarchy, invisible except when needed to clean or cook or spread my legs for Alpha entertainment.
"I'll get there," I mutter, forcing myself to stand on unsteady legs.
The Omega quarters look exactly as I remember—rows of narrow beds crammed into a space meant for half our number. Thin blankets that barely keep out the cold. A single window high on the wall that lets in more draft than light. The other Omegas around me avoid eye contact, their shoulders hunched with exhaustion.
A translucent blue screen suddenly appears in my vision, floating like a mirage only I can see.
BLOOD MOON SYSTEM ACTIVATED
Welcome, User. Initiating survival protocol.
CURRENT STATUS:
Health: 87% (Recovery from temporal displacement)Power Level: 1 (Omega baseline)Threat Assessment: CRITICALTime Until Execution: 1,095 days
FIRST MISSION: SURVIVE THE DAYObjective: Complete assigned duties without detectionReward: System tutorial unlockFailure: Death (again)
My hands shake as I grab my worn apron from the foot of my bed. The System. It's real. I'm really back.
"Move faster, Omega," Mira snaps me back into reality already turning away.
I want to snap back at her, to tell her exactly what I think of her smug face and cruel words. But I can't. Not yet. I'm still weak, still vulnerable. The System's power level reads one barely above human strength.
I need to be smart about this.
The apron feels rough against my palms as I tie it around my waist. Around me, other Omegas shuffle through their morning routines braiding hair, straightening clothes, preparing for another day of invisible servitude. They learned long ago that drawing attention means punishment.
But I'm not like them anymore. I have knowledge they don't. I know how this day ends with me scrubbing blood from the kitchen floor after a Beta decided to "discipline" another Omega for dropping a plate.
Tonight's feast. The memory hits me physically. That's when I first saw all three of them together Lycen, Kael, and Ashen. Well, Ashen was already chained in the dungeons by then, but the other two were celebrating some diplomatic victory.
I don't have to face them yet. I have time to prepare, to grow stronger.
I force myself to focus on the task at hand, following the stream of Omegas heading toward the kitchen. The corridors of the fortress are exactly as I remember cold stone walls, narrow passages designed for defense rather than comfort, the ever-present smell of smoke and meat.
But walking these halls with the knowledge of what's coming feels different. Every shadow could hide a threat. Every sound could signal danger. The System's threat assessment wasn't wrong—I'm in constant danger here.
The kitchen buzzes with activity when I arrive. Steam rises from massive pots over open fires. Omegas chop vegetables with quick, efficient movements.
The head cook, a stern woman named Vera, spots me immediately."Penny! Finally, I need you on bread duty. We're behind schedule for tonight's feast."
Bread duty. I remember this. Hours of kneading dough until my arms ached, my hands raw from the work. But it also means I'll be away from the main kitchen, away from the places where Alphas might wander through.
"Of course," I say, heading toward the prep area.
The familiar rhythm of kneading dough should be soothing, but my mind won't quiet. Every few minutes, the System screen pulses with updates:
MISSION PROGRESS: 15%
Time Remaining: 14 hours, 23 minutes
Stress Level: Elevated
Recommendation: Focus on immediate survival
Immediate survival. That's all I can handle right now. One day at a time, one task at a time. Build strength. Learn the System. Prepare for what's coming.
But even as I work, my thoughts drift to the three men who destroyed me. They think they've won. They think I'm just another broken Omega who'll accept whatever fate they decide for me.
They have no idea what's coming.