Venom and Vengeance

Maya’s Pov “It was all a lie.” The blade sank deep into my chest, tearing through flesh and soul with brutal precision. Pain exploded outward. I collapsed into the cold mud, eyes locked on Kane’s retreating back… The bastard didn’t even glance over his shoulder. Not once. The gray sky swallowed the trees above me, my vision fracturing into darkness… and then there was nothing. Wait—did I die? A desperate gasp tore from my throat as my lungs burned, dragging in ragged air I scrambled backward on instinct, my spine slamming against a cold, damp stone wall. My hands flew to my chest, fingers clawing at the fabric, searching for the wound, the sticky warmth of blood, the gaping hole where my heart had been ripped apart. Nothing. Just the thin, worn gray tunic clinging to my skin. Oh my God… Am I in heaven? I sat there for what felt like an eternity, heart thundering against my ribs like a drum. The air was heavy with the familiar stench of mildew and rotting wood. That smell… it dragged memories up from the grave. The basement. My first life. Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet. My legs trembled, but strength flooded back with every breath. I crossed the small room to the cracked mirror hanging crookedly from a rusty nail… A girl stared back at me—twenty-one years old, blonde hair tangled and wild, green eyes wide with the raw terror I remembered so vividly from that morning three years ago. But as I watched, the terror melted away like frost under sunlight. My gaze flattened into something colder, sharper. My jaw tightened with purpose. I lifted a hand and touched the glass. It was real. Cold. Solid. I was back. Reborn. A soft knock echoed through the wooden door. “Maya?” “I’m awake!” My voice came out thinner than I liked, still laced with the echo of dying. The door creaked open. Sarah, one of the older kitchen servants, stepped inside carrying a stack of neatly folded aprons. She took one look at me and frowned. “You’re late, girl. The Alpha is expecting his breakfast in ten minutes, and you know how foul his mood gets before a ceremony…” “The ceremony…” I repeated slowly, the words tasting like ash. “Which one?” Sarah’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “The Lunar Ceremony, child. The one you’ve been daydreaming about for months. The one where you keep hoping he’ll finally claim you as his mate.” “Three days,” I whispered under my breath. “Three days until what?” she asked, stepping further into the dim room. Until he drives a blade through my ribs and leaves me to bleed out in the mud like a discarded stray. I swallowed the truth and turned away from the mirror to face her. For a split second, Sarah actually recoiled, as if she’d glimpsed something dangerous in my eyes. “Three days until everything changes,” I said instead, keeping my tone light. “Well, you’d better start changing right now,” she sighed, tossing an apron at my chest. “The Alpha wants his coffee piping hot. Don’t keep him waiting—he’s already snapping at everyone this morning.” “He’s always in a foul mood,” I muttered, tying the apron strings with steady fingers. The shaking in my legs had finally stopped. Sarah lingered, studying me. “What’s gotten into you today? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Yeah… I’m the ghost. “I didn’t see one,” I said calmly. “Then what is it?” I glanced at my reflection one final time, committing the harder version of myself to memory. “I am one.” I brushed past her into the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Every loose floorboard, every slippery patch of stone…I remembered them all. The layout of this prison was burned into my bones. I still couldn’t believe the Moon had given me another chance at this hell. The kitchen was a whirlwind of heat and noise. Steam billowed from pots, and the sharp scent of cheap grease and dish soap filled the air. I snatched up the silver tray, forcing my hands to remain still. “You’re late,” one of the cooks barked without looking up. “Yeah, I know...” I carried the tray up the stairs to the main floor. The pack house felt quiet, but beneath the surface, energy crackled like static before a storm. Servants hurried with silver ribbons and fresh flowers. The entire pack was preparing for a celebration… They were preparing to watch me break. I pushed open the heavy oak doors to the dining hall. Kane sat at the head of the long table, dark hair falling messily over his forehead as he studied a map spread before him. He looked exactly the same—broad shoulders, sharp jaw, that aura of raw power. The man who had once promised to protect me. The man who had betrayed me in the worst way possible. He would pay for every second of pain. “Coffee.” He didn’t bother looking up. I approached silently and poured the steaming liquid into his cup, watching the vapor rise in lazy curls. “You’re slow today, Maya,” he remarked, voice low and edged with irritation… “I had a bad dream.” He finally lifted his gaze. Those cold eyes pinned me in place. “A dream?” “I dreamed I died.” Kane let out a short, dry laugh and leaned back in his chair, studying me with mild amusement… “You’re too useful to die. Who else would bring me my coffee every morning?”