Reborn To Reclaim: Trapped Between Four Rival Lycans

1 SELENE Blood seeped through my fingers as I pressed them against the gaping wound in my stomach. The forest floor beneath me grew damp—not with morning dew, but with my life essence draining away. My body felt impossibly cold despite the summer night, and each breath came more labored than the last. "You should have just accepted your fate, Selene." The voice cut through the darkness like a knife. "No rejected wolf survives long without a pack." I forced my eyes open to see Celeste's silhouette against the moonlight filtering through the trees. She stood with perfect posture, her designer boots somehow immaculate despite the forest terrain. The silver Luna pendant—the one that should have been mine—gleamed at her throat. "Why?" The word came out as a gurgle as blood filled my throat. "I never... did anything... to you." Her laugh was musical, beautiful even, just like everything else about her. My stepsister. My replacement. The woman who had orchestrated my downfall from the moment she entered my father's house a decade ago. "You existed," she said simply, crouching down beside me. Her fingers, tipped with red manicured nails, brushed a strand of hair from my face with mock tenderness. "You were in my way. The Moon Goddess made a mistake marking you as Damian's mate. I merely... corrected it." Behind her, two rogue wolves snarled, their muzzles still wet with my blood. I recognized them as former pack members, now loyal to her. "Damian knows," I whispered. "He'll figure out what you did." Her smile widened, a predator savoring the kill. "He's already forgotten your name, little sister. When I tell him rogues killed you after you foolishly wandered into disputed territory, he'll shrug and pull me closer. After all—" she leaned in, her lips nearly brushing my ear, "—you were never meant to be his mate." With effort, I turned my head to look up at the full moon hanging heavy in the sky. My vision was darkening at the edges. Moon Goddess, I prayed silently, if I could have one more chance... "Don't bother praying," Celeste said, rising to her feet. "She abandoned you the moment Damian rejected you. Just like everyone else." She nodded to the rogues. "Finish it. I want to be home before dawn." I didn't look at the wolves as they approached. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on the moon, my last connection to anything pure. The pain when their teeth found my throat was sharp but mercifully brief. My last thought wasn't of Damian, who had humiliated me in front of our entire pack. It wasn't even hatred for Celeste. It was a promise. *If I ever get another chance, I'll burn everything down before I let them break me again.* And then, darkness. --- The sensation of falling jolted me awake. My body hit something soft—a mattress. My mattress. In my room. In my father's house. I gasped, hands flying to my throat, expecting to find it torn open. Instead, I felt smooth, unbroken skin. I patted frantically at my stomach. No wound. No blood. Sunlight streamed through lavender curtains I hadn't seen in years—not since they were replaced with the heavier drapes Celeste had insisted would "better suit a future Luna." I stared at them, disoriented. My bedroom looked exactly as it had before... before everything. Before Damian. Before the rejection. Before my death. "What the..." I whispered, my voice cracking. It sounded higher than I remembered. I stumbled out of bed, catching my reflection in the full-length mirror on my closet door. The face staring back at me made me stumble backward until my legs hit the bed. Gone was the twenty-three-year-old woman who had died in the forest. In her place stood a seventeen-year-old girl with wide, frightened eyes and a rounder face still holding onto the last traces of childhood. My hair was longer than I remembered, falling in messy waves past my shoulders, and my body lacked the toned muscles I'd developed during my desperate months of survival after being exiled. "Selene! Are you up? You'll be late for school!" The voice from downstairs sent a shiver through me. My father. My very much alive father who, in my previous life, had died two years ago—three years before my own death. Heart attack, the pack doctor had said. Though I'd always suspected it had been the shame of his daughter's rejection that had killed him. "Selene!" "C-coming!" I called back, my voice shaking. I sank onto my bed, mind racing. Was I dead? Was this some strange afterlife designed to torture me with memories? No. This felt too real. The sunlight warming my skin. The familiar scent of my childhood bedroom. The slight ache in my lower back that I used to get before... Before my first shift. Realization hit me like a physical blow. In my first life, I'd had my first shift at seventeen. Specifically, today—if this was indeed the day I thought it was. May 15th. The day that had marked the true beginning of my journey toward becoming Damian's mate, toward the rejection, toward death. I was back. Five years before my death. Before any of it had happened. The Moon Goddess had answered my final prayer. A hysterical laugh bubbled up my throat. I had a second chance. The universe had rewound, placing me precisely at the moment where everything began. Before Celeste revealed her true colors to me. Before Damian broke me in front of everyone I knew. "Selene, honestly! Your breakfast is getting cold, and Celeste is already ready to leave!" At the mention of her name, ice replaced the blood in my veins. Celeste. Here. In this house. Playing the role of the perfect stepsister while secretly plotting to steal everything from me. I rose on shaky legs and moved to my dresser, pulling out clothes automatically. My fingers found a simple white t-shirt and jeans—the same outfit I'd worn on this day in my previous life. The day of my first shift. As I dressed, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. I'd forgotten how meek I had looked back then. How the fear of not fitting in had kept my shoulders perpetually hunched, my eyes downcast. How I'd dressed to be invisible. Never again. I put the clothes back and dug deeper in my drawers until I found items I'd rarely worn before—a fitted black top that emphasized what curves I had at seventeen and dark jeans that hugged my legs. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail instead of letting it hang limply around my face as I'd done before. It wasn't much, but it was a start. A declaration to myself: this life would be different. "SELENE!" "COMING!" I shouted back, grabbing my backpack. I paused at my bedroom door, taking a deep breath. Beyond it waited the people who had been central to my downfall—my well-meaning but oblivious father and my stepsister, the architect of my destruction. Both unaware that the Selene they knew had died and been reborn. "Game on," I whispered, and opened the door.