The wine was sweet.

That should have been my first warning.

I had spent years learning to detect poisons—the bitter bite of nightshade, the metallic tang of crushed silverleaf, the strange warmth of deathbell. But this wine tasted like honey and summer fruit, like the man who had once promised me forever.

Lucien.

He sat across from me now, golden-haired and perfect, his crown glinting in the candlelight. My husband of five years. The Crown Prince of Valoria. The man who had slowly, methodically, destroyed everything I loved.

And he was smiling.

"Drink, Aurelia," he said softly. "You've been so tense lately. This will help you relax."

I had been tense because I had spent the last three years trying to prove that Seraphine—the Saintess, the holy woman everyone adored—was a manipulative snake. I had gathered evidence. I had found witnesses. I had risked everything to expose her.

And Lucien had dismissed it all.

He had looked at me with those cold blue eyes and said:

"You're jealous, Aurelia. I understand. But Seraphine is a woman of God. She would never harm anyone."

He had believed her over me.

He always did.

And now, as I raised the goblet to my lips, I saw the truth in his gaze. Not love. Not guilt. Not even hatred.

Relief.

He was relieved that I was finally going to die.

The poison burned.

Not immediately—it was a slow, creeping warmth that spread from my stomach to my chest. At first, I thought nothing of it. Perhaps the wine was stronger than I was used to. Perhaps the stress of the past few years had finally caught up with me.

But then the warmth turned to fire.

I gasped, dropping the goblet. It clattered against the marble floor, dark red wine pooling like blood. My hands flew to my throat, but there was nothing there. Nothing to stop the burning that was spreading through my veins like liquid flame.

"Aurelia?" Lucien's voice was concerned, but his eyes were not. "Are you alright?"

He knew.

Of course he knew.

He had poured the wine himself.

I tried to speak, but my throat was closing. The words wouldn't come. Only a strangled gasp escaped my lips. My vision blurred. The candlelight swam before my eyes, dancing and distorting like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

My hands trembled as I reached for him—not for comfort, but for answers. I had given this man everything. My youth. My loyalty. My father's political power. I had loved him when he gave me nothing but cold indifference. I had stood by him when the court whispered against him. I had defended him when his enemies plotted against the crown.

And this was my reward.

"Lucien..." My voice was barely a whisper, cracked and broken. "Why?"

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his embroidered coat. He didn't come near me. He didn't offer comfort. He simply stood there, watching me die, as if I were nothing more than a scene in a play he had grown bored of.

"Seraphine explained everything," he said, as though that explained anything at all. "Your father has been plotting against the crown. You've been helping him. The evidence is... damning."

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream.

My father was the most loyal man in the kingdom. He had served the crown for thirty years. He had built Valoria's political stability with his own hands. He had bled for this kingdom. He had sacrificed everything for the royal family.

But Seraphine had whispered her poison into Lucien's ear.

And he had swallowed it like a man dying of thirst.

"Seraphine..." I choked on her name. "She's... lying..."

"Don't." His voice hardened. "Don't you dare speak her name with contempt. She is the Saintess. She has healed the sick. She has spoken with the gods themselves. And she has proven that your family intends to betray me."

He stepped closer, looking down at me with something that might have been pity. But it wasn't pity. It was disgust. He was disgusted by me. By the woman who had loved him with everything she had.

"I loved you once, Aurelia. Or I tried to. But you made it impossible. You were always so... jealous. So paranoid. You couldn't accept that Seraphine was simply a good person. You had to tear her down."

I coughed, and blood splattered across my white gown.

Crimson against silk.

The color of a broken heart.

The pain was unbearable now. It wasn't just fire in my veins anymore. It was knives. Thousands of tiny knives cutting me from the inside out. My stomach twisted. My lungs burned. Every breath was a battle I was losing.

"Lucien..." I reached for him one last time. "Please... I never... I never wanted to hurt you..."

His expression flickered.

For just a moment, I saw something that looked almost like regret.

Then it was gone.

"Goodbye, Aurelia."

He turned and walked away.

THE DYING

I lay on the cold marble floor, my body convulsing, my vision fading in and out. The poison was spreading faster now. I could feel it in my bones, in my blood, in every cell of my being. It was consuming me from the inside out.

I thought about my mother. Her gentle hands. Her warm smile. She had always told me that love was the most powerful force in the world. She had believed that with all her heart.

She had been wrong.

I thought about my father. His quiet strength. His unwavering loyalty. He had taught me that honor mattered, that integrity was everything. He had believed that the crown would protect us.

He had been wrong.

I thought about Lucien. The man I had loved. The man I had trusted. The man who had just watched me die without a single tear. I had given him everything—my youth, my hope, my future. And he had taken it all and thrown it away like garbage.

I had been so foolish.

So naive.

So blind.

A sob escaped my lips, but it came out as a choked gurgle. Blood bubbled from my mouth, staining the marble floor beneath me. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing the pain, numbing everything.

I was dying.

And no one was coming to save me.

I thought about all the years I had wasted. All the love I had poured into a man who never deserved it. All the sacrifices I had made for a marriage that was never real. I had given up everything—my dreams, my ambitions, my sense of self—for a man who saw me as nothing more than a stepping stone.

And in the end, he had stepped on me and crushed me into dust.

I don't want to die.

The thought was raw, primal, desperate. I didn't want to die. I wasn't ready. I had so much left to do. So much left to say. So much left to fight for.

But my body was failing. My heart was slowing. The darkness was creeping in at the edges of my vision, cold and welcoming and final.

Please. Someone. Anyone. Help me.

But no one came.

No one ever came.

And as the last breath left my body, as the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent promise to myself.

If I ever get another chance—

I will never trust again.

I will never love again.

I will never be a victim again.

THE VOID

Darkness swallowed me.

But not silence.

Whispers.

They came from everywhere and nowhere, voices I couldn't understand, speaking in a language older than the kingdoms. I felt myself floating—not falling, not rising, just... drifting. Like a leaf on a river. Like a feather in the wind.

I was nothing.

I was everything.

I was lost.

And then I saw her.

A woman made of moonlight.

She stood in the void, her face obscured by shadow, her silver hair flowing like water. She didn't speak, but I understood her perfectly.

"You were not meant to die this way, Aurelia Vale. Your destiny was stolen from you."

I tried to ask who she was.

I tried to ask what she meant.

But no words came. I was just a spirit now. A ghost. A memory of the woman I had once been.

"I cannot give you back the years you lost. But I can give you a choice. A second chance. The opportunity to rewrite what was taken from you."

Her hand reached toward me.

I felt warmth—the first warmth I had felt in years. It spread through my spectral form like sunlight after a storm. It was hope. It was life. It was everything I had thought I had lost forever.

"Choose wisely this time, little wolf. Your future is not written in the stars. It is written in your choices."

I reached for her hand.

And everything went white.

---

THE REBIRTH

I opened my eyes.

I was seventeen years old.

I was standing in the grand ballroom of Valoria's royal palace, wearing a gown of pale lavender silk, my hair braided with small silver flowers. The scent of roses and expensive perfume filled the air. Musicians played a soft waltz in the corner.

And in front of me stood Lucien.

Crown Prince Lucien Armand.

Younger than I remembered. Softer around the edges. But still wearing that same condescending smile—the smile that said he was doing me a favor by acknowledging my existence.

"Lady Aurelia," he said, taking my hand. "You look beautiful tonight."

I stared at him.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. My hands were trembling. My breath came in short, ragged gasps.

This was the coming-of-age ceremony. The night my father had announced my engagement to the crown prince. The night everything began.

The night I fell in love with a man who would eventually feed me poison.

I was back.

The pain of death was still fresh in my memory. The burning. The choking. The cold marble floor beneath my dying body. The way Lucien had watched me die without a single tear.

I remembered everything.

And Lucien was still holding my hand.

"Lady Aurelia?" His smile faltered slightly. "Are you feeling unwell? You look pale."

I pulled my hand free.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm fine," I said, and my voice didn't shake. "Excuse me."

I turned and walked away.

I didn't look back.

Whispers followed me as I crossed the ballroom.

"Did she just refuse the crown prince?"

"Is she mad?"

"Her father will be furious."

I didn't care.

I pushed through the crowd of nobles, past the glittering gowns and jeweled masks, past the dukes and duchesses who had once whispered about my downfall in their private salons. I knew exactly who they were. I remembered exactly what they had done.

But I didn't stop for them.

I stopped for him.

He was standing in the shadows near the balcony, alone—of course he was alone, he was always alone. People avoided him like he carried a plague. They whispered about his curse and crossed themselves when he passed.

Prince Kael Draven.

The Cursed Wolf Prince.

He was taller than I remembered, broader in the shoulders, with sharp cheekbones and a jaw like carved stone. His hair was black as midnight, falling across his forehead, and his eyes—those dark, dark eyes—were watching me with cold suspicion.

He had been wearing the same expression the first time I had met him, years ago.

I had dismissed him as a monster.

I had believed the rumors.

And I had chosen Lucien instead.

This time—this time I knew the truth.

Kael wasn't a monster. He wasn't cursed. He was just a man who had been betrayed by everyone around him, a man who had been isolated and feared and hated for something he couldn't control.

And I would not make the same mistake twice.

I stopped in front of him.

The music seemed to fade around me.

I was aware of people staring, whispering, wondering why the Prime Minister's daughter was speaking to the Cursed Prince.

I didn't care.

Kael looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

"Lady Aurelia," he said, and his voice was deep and cold. "Are you lost?"

For one terrifying heartbeat, I almost turned away. Every whisper I had ever heard about the Cursed Prince echoed in my mind—the uncontrollable wolf, the blood-soaked legends, the way servants crossed themselves when he passed.

But I also remembered the truth.

In my first life, Kael Draven had never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. He had been blamed for political disasters he didn't cause. He had been isolated and feared while the real monsters wore crowns and smiled.

And his enemies? They were the same as mine.

I stepped forward.

"Not lost," I said. "Found."

His eyes narrowed.

I took a breath.

And I said the words I had never said before, the words that would change everything:

"Prince Kael Draven—will you marry me?"

Silence.

Absolute silence.

You could have heard a pin drop on the marble floor. Every noble, every servant, every guard was staring at us. Even the musicians had stopped playing.

Kael's expression didn't change.

But I saw his jaw tighten.