The Alpha's Second Chance

Chapter 1- The Blood Debt

Silas POV

I awake with a scream that tears through my throat, my body jerking violently against the mattress.

I scramble backwards, hitting the headboard so hard that the wood groans. My hands fly to my neck, searching for the gaping wound, the wetness of the mud, the cold sting of silver.

The memories of the death play freshly in my mind, my breath hitching with each intake. Even Fenrir feels anxious through the bond.

But there is nothing there. My skin is hot and dry. My heart is hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird, but it is beating.

"Alpha? Silas!"

The door to my room swings open. Marcus steps in, his face etched with a concern that makes my stomach do a slow, nauseating roll. Marcus is dead. I had seen an image of his head on a pike in the town square two weeks after I was exiled, but he is now standing in front of me alive. Did I really travel back in time, or did I see a vision of the future?

"Nightmare?" Marcus asks, moving toward the windows to pull back the heavy velvet curtains. The morning light poured in—bright, golden, and agonisingly real. "You were shouting loud enough to wake the omegas in the dorms."

I don't answer. I cannot. I am staring at my hands. They are calloused, powerful, and free of the scars I’d earned during my weeks on the run. I look at the desk across the room. My calendar is sitting there, the page turned to October 14th.

We are back in time. I think to myself, the realisation dawns on me that I have been given the second chance that I begged for.

I collapse back against the pillows, my head spinning. October. This was six months before the mating ceremony. Four months before the warlock arrived. One month before Sarah arrived.

Six months before I died.

It was a dream, I try to tell myself. A horrific, vivid fever dream.

But then, the air in the room thickens. The light seemed to fracture, and a searing, white-hot agony lanced through my brain. I double over, clutching my head as a vision burns itself into the back of my eyelids.

It is a countdown. Not written in ink but etched in celestial fire.

[ 180:00:00:00 ]

The seconds begin to tick away. [ 179:23:59:58... ]

“I do not give second chances for free, Silas Vane.” A voice echoes in the darkness of my bones and mind. The voice is feminine, ancient, and terrifyingly cold. “The bond that you once cherished was proven to be fake. Their tether still lingers in your blood, but there is a way for you to avoid the danger that is coming your way. You have one month to find your true mate. If you don’t succeed, then the death you experienced will repeat itself once the timer ends. Find the true mate you seek, or the grave you left will reclaim you once more.”

The voice leaves me, and all that is left is the timer and some deep-seated fear etched into my soul. I cannot live through that again!

"Silas, talk to me. You’re glowing. Literally," Marcus’s voice is closer now. I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I flinch as if he’d burned me.

"I'm fine," I rasp. I look at Marcus, really looked at him, and the grief of seeing him alive nearly broke my composure. "What’s on the schedule today?"

Marcus blinks, confused by my sudden intensity. "The council meeting regarding the southern borders? Then the recruitment drive for the new scouts. Why?"

I swing my legs out of bed, the floor cold beneath my feet. Every sense I had was dialled to eleven. I can smell the pine needles miles away; I can hear the heartbeat of every wolf in the pack house. But underneath it all, I feel a faint, greasy pull at my gut—the remnants of the warlock’s magic, already waiting for the fake mate to appear and activate the trap.

"Cancel the council," I order, my voice deepening into the Alpha’s command. "And the recruitment."

"Silas, the elders will have a fit. We’ve been planning this for weeks, and they have been wanting to meet with you all this time. They are going to throw a fit."

I turn to him, my eyes flashing a predatory, molten gold that made Marcus instinctively bare his throat. "Let them throw a fit. I have a debt to pay, Marcus. And a ghost to find."

The countdown in my peripheral vision flickers. 179 days.

Find the true mate you once saw. I quickly go through my memories with Fenrir, trying to find one that stood out, but nothing jumped out at me.

I pull on my boots, my mind already mapping out the faces of everyone I knew, searching for a spark, a scent, a sign.

Sarah is coming. The warlock is coming. But this time, they are not walking into a kingdom of a fool. They are walking into the cage of a man who had already died once, and I am going to make sure that this time, I am not the one in the grave.

"Marcus," I call out as he reaches the door.

"Yeah?"

"Keep your eyes open. The world isn't what it seems."

"What do you mean, Alpha?"

"There is a war coming, one that will change what we know. There are two coming for us, Marcus, and they will start to show their hand very soon, so increase training as well as increasing the protection of the pack lands. We cannot let our pack fall to them again." I order.

"Again?" Marcus asks, confused.

"Nothing, just get ready," I order while looking out of my bedroom window.

Somewhere out there was a woman who holds my life in her hands. I had 180 days to find her, or the Moon Goddess will take back her mercy.