Fated Twice,Rejected Twice

CHAPTER 4

I kicked and struggled with all my might, but couldn't break the surface. I felt a burning in my lungs, my limbs flailed futilely, and the moon above grew dimmer and dimmer as the water tugged me further down. There was panic clawing at my chest, one silent scream stuck in my throat.

Then… nothing.

Cold receded. The fight stopped. I was weightless, drifting in darkness, my mind slipping away.

And then, a warmth-fleecy and new-lingering upon me. My body quivered; feeling crept back within my limbs as air, sweet air, was sucked into my lungs. The smothering clutches of water had loosened their hold for something… reassuring.

I blinked, and my eyes adjusted to a dim, golden glow. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, casting soft shadows upon the walls in flickering candlelight. Heavy blankets weighed me down, their warmth unfamiliar. I wasn't in the lake anymore.

Panic rushed once again into my chest. I threw myself upright, and my heartbeat was racing, while I looked around the room in bewilderment. The room was nothing like anything I knew, with heavy tapestries draped over stone walls, dark wood carvings on the furniture, and a hanging scent of herbs in the air. It seemed ancient, out of a storybook.

Where am I? How did I get here?

The thought had barely had time to strike before the door groaned open. Two women stepped inside, the long skirts swishing across the floor; hair pulled back into neat braids, their faces calm yet softening with something almost like relief in their expressions.

The older of the two came forward, a smile on her face, though cautious. "Lady Nayla, you are awake. We were so worried."

I stiffened. "What?" My voice was hoarse; merely a whisper. "Who. who is Nayla?"

The two women exchanged glances of surprise. The younger one, with a solicitous tone, said, "Mi lady. you are."

My heart thundered in my ears. "No," I hoarsely croaked, shaking my head. "That's not my name. My name is Selene."

The young maid's gaze flew to the older one, a flicker of uncertainty crossing between them. In an instant, the older woman composed herself, the smile on her face never wavering. "You have been through a terrible ordeal, my lady," she said softly. "But you are safe now. Please, try to rest."

"No." My voice was stronger now, laced with growing fear. "I don't understand did I get here? What is this place?"

Before I could lever myself farther upright, the younger maid had stepped forward and laid firm hands on my shoulders. "Please, my lady," she begged, her touch insistent yet not ungentle. "You mustn't strain yourself. You need time to heal."

I froze, the breath coming in shallow pants. None of this made sense. None of it felt real. But the weight of the blankets, the warmth of their hands, and the steady flicker of candlelight were too vivid to be a dream.

What was happening to me?

I wanted to argue, to tell them they had the wrong person, but my head throbbed, and my thoughts were tangled. Everything was wrong. My body didn't feel like my own. The weight of the blankets, the way my limbs everything felt…off. And yet, these women looked at me like they had known me all their lives.

I forced myself to focus. "Where am I?" My voice wasn't much more than a whisper, shaking with my uncertainty.

The older one with kind eyes smiled reassuringly. "You are in the manor, my lady," she said, as if that explained it all. "On the lord's estate."

The words struck like a blow. A manor? A lord's estate? My heart was racing as I took another look around heavy wooden furniture, the embroidered tapestries, the flickering candlelight belonging to another century.

Was I being cursed further by the Moon Goddess? Decided that being useless in my world was not a good enough punishment? A cruel hallucination, maybe a coma-induced nightmare from which I couldn't wake?

But it felt too real: the smell of burning wood, the weight of the blankets, and the warmth from the fire were just too vivid to be part of a dream.

I tried again to sit up, determined to make sense of it all, but a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I gasped, my vision spinning as I collapsed back onto the pillows. The maids exchanged concerned glances before the younger one stepped forward and pressed a cool hand to my forehead.

"Please, my lady," she persisted, her voice soft but firm. "You must rest. Your body and mind need time to heal."

Heal from what? From drowning? From whatever had happened to Nayla? The questions swirled in my head, but I was too tired to ask. Instead, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my breathing to slow as reality weighed heavy over me.

This was real. This was happening.

Somehow, I was trapped in another person's body. In another time.

Days passed-maybe weeks. Time blurred as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

The maids, Elara and Milla, as I later learned, tended to me with a quiet kindness. They brought me food, and warm tea, and spoke in soft voices, as though afraid I might break.

They kept calling me Nayla, speaking of people and events I didn't recognize. And every time I tried to tell them the truth I wasn't her; they only gave me pitying looks, as if I had lost my mind.

But slowly, piece by piece, I began to understand.

Nayla-the woman whose body I now inhabited-had lived a life of misery. She had been at the mercy of Alpha Ronan, a man feared for his cruelty. Even hearing his name made my stomach twist with unease, though I had no memories of him.

But why? What had she done to earn his hatred? More importantly, why was I here? And how the hell was I supposed to get back?

The more I knew about Nayla's life, the more desperate I became to be free. Ronan's hate for her was absolute, and though I'd never met him, I could feel the weight of his disgust bearing down on me, suffocating-though in a completely different way than the lake that had swallowed me.

I needed to get out. I had to find some way back into my own body, my world. But now, lying in that bed in a life that wasn't my own, I had no idea where to start.

There came a harsh knock on the door.

Elara and Milla froze in their spots.

In a voice almost inaudibly low, she spoke.

"Alpha Ronan has called for you, mi lady.”