Warmth.
Soft, steady, gentle warmth pressed against her cheek. For a moment, Selene floated between consciousness and memory, as if she were lying in two worlds at once. The faint scent of chamomile drifted in the air—familiar, comforting, heartbreakingly nostalgic. Her fingers grasped at empty space, searching for the cold forest floor… the sting of claws… the suffocating weight of betrayal.
But instead of damp soil and blood, her fingertips brushed fabric.
A pillow. Smooth sheets. A blanket she hadn't owned in years.
Her eyes snapped open.
Light flooded the room—morning light, golden and warm. Not moonlight. Not the cold silver glare she died under. She blinked rapidly, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the room around her.
Her childhood bedroom.
White curtains fluttering with the morning breeze. Wooden shelves lined with old trinkets and hand-painted stones. Her tiny desk, cluttered with school notes, broken pens, and dried flowers she once kept pressed in books. A soft rug she remembered spilling juice on while daydreaming about Christopher.
"No…" she whispered, voice trembling.
She sat up slowly, heart pounding like a caged thing. The blanket slid down her shoulders, pooling around her waist.
Her hands—Unscarred. Small. Young.
She lifted them closer to the light. No dried blood. No claw marks. No fractures from the blows Christopher dealt during the final fight.
She stumbled toward the mirror, legs shaking so badly she nearly collapsed. When she reached it, she braced herself against the frame and stared.
A young girl stared back.
Her face softer, her eyes brighter, her skin untouched by grief. Her hair, slightly messy from sleep, fell the same way it used to when she rushed for school.
"Six years…," she breathed, barely able to form the words. "The hourglass… it really sent me back."
Memories slammed into her—Kai's mouth on Christopher's.
Christopher's hand closing around her throat. The bite that tore into her shoulder. The earth beneath her body as her heartbeat slowed.
Her lungs tightened painfully.
They had betrayed her. They had killed her. She had died begging the heavens to stop the pain of betrayal.
But now… now she was before all of it.
Her gaze drifted to her wrist, and there—glowing faintly in the soft morning light—was the mark. An hourglass, moonlit silver, pulsing like something alive.
A gift. A warning. A reminder of the moment time itself tore open for her.
Selene covered the mark with trembling fingers. Her breath steadied. A new resolve settled in her bones.
A soft knock jolted her.
"Sel?" A familiar voice floated from the other side of the door, warm and trembling with worry—one she hadn't heard in years, not since everything went wrong.
A voice she thought she would never hear again.
Selene froze. Tears instantly stung her eyes.
Her aunt.
Alive.
"Come in," Selene whispered, voice cracking.
The door opened. And there she was. Her aunt stepped into the room with the same warm smile Selene remembered clinging to during lonely nights. Her soft curls framed her gentle face. Her eyes—bright, kind, and untouched by the terror that had filled them the day she was wrongly accused and dragged to her execution—held no trace of the future she was supposed to endure.
Selene couldn't breathe.
Her aunt walked closer, brushing stray strands of hair from Selene's forehead like she used to when Selene cried during storms. The touch was so familiar, so warm, so impossible that Selene's vision blurred instantly.
"You're up earlier than usual," her aunt teased lightly. "Did you have a bad dream?"
If only it had been a dream.
Selene swallowed hard, forcing a trembling smile. "A nightmare, yes… but I'm okay. Really."
Her aunt's brows knit together in concern. "You sure, sweetheart?"
She cupped Selene's cheek gently. That simple touch broke her.
Tears gathered in Selene's eyes, threatening to spill. She wanted to collapse into her, bury her face in her neck, cling to her like she used to when she was little. She wanted to say everything she never got to say.
I missed you.
I cried for you.
But she couldn't. Not yet.
She nodded stiffly.
Her aunt kissed her forehead and smiled softly. "Alright, breakfast is ready. Come down when you're dressed." She stayed for a moment, giving her cheek a gentle squeeze, then turned and walked to the door. The soft click of the latch sounded as she left the room.
When the door closed, Selene pressed a hand to her mouth, muffling the sound of her sob. She sat on the edge of her bed, letting herself feel everything—grief, relief, overwhelming love.
In this life, she would protect her. No matter what.
She dressed slowly, letting the room around her ground her. This life would be different. She would face Christopher again. She would see Kai again. She would step into all the moments that eventually shattered her.
But not as the same girl.
She tied her hair back, glancing in the mirror.
Her eyes had changed.
No longer soft. No longer trusting. There was steel in them now. Memory. Fire.
"They may not remember killing and betraying me," she whispered. "But I do."
She walked toward the stairs, gripping the railing—the same railing she and Kai used to sit beside as teens.
And memories flooded her instantly.
Them sitting on the steps, knees touching. Kai leaning closer. Selene giggling uncontrollably while rambling about Christopher. Kai teasing her. Them whispering late into the night, talking about stupid jokes and love stories.
For a moment, Selene smiled… a real, fragile smile.
Then the memory twisted— Kai's lips on Christopher's. Kai's nails digging into Selene's wolf form. Kai stepping back while Christopher delivered the final blow.
Selene's hand tightened on the railing until her knuckles whitened.
She descended the stairs slowly.
The smell of eggs and toast drifted from the kitchen. Her aunt hummed softly—an old song she used to sing while washing dishes.
"Morning, sleepyhead!"
Selene froze.
The air left her lungs all at once, as if something had punched it out of her.
Kai.
Sitting casually at the dining table, flipping through a magazine, legs tucked under her. Her hair tied in a messy ponytail. Bright, carefree, completely unaware of the bloodstained future awaiting them.
Kai looked up and grinned. "What? Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have bread crumbs stuck on my face?"
Selene couldn't move.
Her chest tightened painfully. Her stomach dropped. Every hair on her arms rose—her wolf instincts flaring, senses screaming danger. Goosebumps exploded across her skin, and a low, warning growl rumbled deep in her throat, though her lips didn't move.
Kai laughed lightly, oblivious. "Sel, seriously, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
If only she knew.
Selene forced air into her lungs and took a step forward, her legs trembling.
"Morning," she whispered.
Kai kicked her lightly under the table. "You look weirdly serious today. What happened? Did you dream about failing another exam?"
Selene stared at her.
This face. This smile. This voice she once trusted more than anyone.
Kai continued eating, carefree, innocent, the picture of a sister who hadn't yet betrayed her… but would.
Soon.
Christopher would enter the picture again. The sweet smiles. The promises. The lies.
And Kai would stand right beside him. Selene lowered her gaze, hiding the storm brewing in her eyes.
Kai laughed again, flipping a page. "By the way, Christopher said he'd help you study later. You're welcome. I told him you'd probably cry without help."
Christopher.
Hearing his name was enough to make her jaw clench, her pulse spike.
They didn't know. They didn't remember. They had no idea the girl sitting across from them was the same girl they killed.
Selene finished her meal in silence, studying Kai from the corner of her eye—memorizing her expressions, her mannerisms, her lies hidden beneath innocence.
When she stood to leave, she glanced at her wrist.
The hourglass mark glowed faintly.
A reminder. A warning. A promise.
She whispered under her breath—quiet, steady, deadly:
"This time… I choose who breaks."
The words barely left her lips when the air shifted, thickening with a cold, familiar presence. Her pulse skipped. Every muscle tensed.
Before Selene could even leave the kitchen, he was there—the man who had haunted her every memory, whose betrayal had once ended her life.
He stepped forward, calm, impossibly composed, eyes glinting with the same warmth she had once trusted—and loathed.
"Good morning, my love," he said, his voice soft and sweet, almost too gentle, like he was trying to charm her. His smile was warm, easy… and it made her stomach twist.
And in that single phrase, the weight of the past hit her like a tidal wave. Rage, fear, heartbreak—they all crashed at once, and Selene went pale, her hand curling tightly into a fist.