Chapter Two: Reborn in Lace
1167 Words
RACHEL POV
It was dark. The kind that feels like a scary pit trying to suck a person in.
I felt like I was made of stone as if my bones had forgotten how to move. Breathing was hard because each breath was just a reminder that I wasn't quite dead yet.
BAM! Pain shot through my head. It was like my skull was being crushed, and my head was throbbing like crazy.
And then light. Weak and blurry, but it was there.
My eyes fluttered open, and I gasped, trying not to choke. Everything was too bright, too white. The lights above me stung my eyes.
My skin felt hot and sweaty. The sheets felt weird, silky, and fancy, unlike the scratchy hospital sheets I thought I'd die on.
No beeping machines. No strong smell of that hospital cleaner. Just linen. And expensive perfume and a little bit of lavender.
Tears started to form, but they didn't feel like my tears. Not like I remembered them. I lifted my hand to wipe them away, but the fingers that touched my face weren't mine. They were longer and thinner, and my skin felt softer. And my nails? Painted with light purple polish.
My stomach twisted. Something was wrong.
I wiggled around, trying to sit up. My body ached, but not where I thought it would. My legs weren't broken, and my ribs didn't feel cracked.
I reached up and gasped. My head was wrapped in thick bandages, like some weird crown. I could feel stitches pulling at my skin underneath. I looked down at the robe I had on.
It wasn't a hospital gown. And it wasn't mine.
It was gorgeous.
A long, purple silk robe with golden wolf designs running along the bottom. The sleeves were big and flowy, like something from a royal party.
The front dipped down just enough and was held together with black lacing that looked like spiderwebs. It shimmered when I moved.
What kind of robe was this? An expensive designer brand? Some rare vintage style? Worth hundreds of dollars? No. Way more.
I just sat there, staring at the robe. My heart was pounding.
Whose body was I in?
Fear started to bubble up. I had to see myself.
I stumbled out of the soft bed, my bare feet sinking into a rug that was softer than anything I'd ever felt.
The room screamed expensive – cream-colored walls with gold trim, tall windows with silk curtains, and a chandelier resembling captured starlight.
I walked to a mirror, feeling shaky.
And then I saw myself.
I stopped breathing.
A stranger stared back.
Long, black curly hair framed a narrow back: high cheekbones, full lips, and dark eyeliner. My skin was pale but bruised around my head. The bandages explained some of it, but the eyes...
They weren't mine.
But they were alive.
I reached out and touched the mirror, my fingers trembling.
“What... the heck…” I whispered.
Just then, the door opened behind me. I spun around, my heart jumping into my throat.
A woman gasped.
She looked to be in her forties, with her hair pulled back in a bun. She had wide eyes with shock and confusion. A nurse? No, she was dressed too nicely. Maybe a helper?
“Luna Raven?” She said, almost choking. “Y-You're awake! Oh my gosh – Luna, you're awake!”
“Wait,” I said, my voice rough. “Who?”
The woman blinked fast and covered her mouth with her hand. “You... you don't remember?”
“Raven?” I asked again. “Who's even called Raven these days?”
She took a small step closer, “Please, lie down. You were hurt badly. You hit your head hard. The doctor said you might lose some memories.”
“What happened to me?” I asked. “What injuries? Why am I here?”
But she wouldn't tell me. No matter how I asked, her lips stayed shut.
“I can't, I'm sorry. Lord Ragnar told me not to. You have to rest. He... he'll be here soon.”
I stared at her, feeling mad and confused. She gently fixed my robe around my shoulders, gave me a sad look, and then left.
I sat back on the bed, fuming.
Luna?
Raven?
Lord Ragnar?
I was in someone else's story.
No way. This had to be some sort of a dream.
I got up again, pacing and mumbling, my heart pounding.
And then...
The door crashed open so hard that the walls shook.
I jumped and turned around, ready to fight. “Hey! Can't you knock—”
I stopped.
He was tall. No, huge. A man of thick skin weighing at most seven feet. Black hair, stormy gray eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass. He wore all black, with his sleeves rolled up, showing tattoos covering up his arms.
He didn't say anything but just walked toward me.
“Who are you?” I whispered, stepping back. My gut was screaming danger.
He moved silently, like a predator. Then, he shot out his hand and grabbed my neck.
I gasped, my feet barely touching the floor.
“Still got that mouth, Raven,” he growled. His voice was deep and mean, like he was promising all kinds of bad things. I should've strangled you ages ago.
“Let... go…” I choked out, trying to pull his hand away.
He did not listen.
“You think you can keep saying no to me?” He hissed. “He's dead. Your loser husband – the Alpha – and you turned me down for him?”
My blood went cold.
Lucas was dead? Was that who he was talking about?
“I've been waiting,” he whispered. “As your stepbrother, I should have had you. I should've been the Alpha. You should've been mine.”
I trembled as his fingers tightened.
“Well, now I am the Alpha, you are mine. I own you, Raven. Not even the moon goddess can stop my union with you.” He spoke loudly into my ears. “And you won't refuse me this time. Not ever!”
“I can kill you a thousand times, he said, his voice low and close to my ear. “And I'll still want your body–dead or alive. I'll still take what belongs to me.”
He lifted me like I weighed nothing. Then, he threw me to the ground. I landed hard. The robe twisted around me.
And then he was gone.
The door slammed shut behind him.
I lay on the floor, shaking and gasping for air, not knowing if I was dreaming this or not.
Who was Raven?
Who was I?
And what kind of messed-up hell had I been reborn into?
A wind whipped through the sealed room, scattering petals from the flower vases.
A soft, low-pitched voice echoed inside my head.
“Rachel…! Wake up!!”
- Writer
