Reborn
1548 Words
Jasmine's POV
The trumpet blasted directly into my ear.
I shot up so fast I nearly headbutted whoever was holding it. My heart hammered against my ribs, my hands flying to my chest as I gasped for air.
"Lara! What the hell is wrong with you?" A familiar voice shrieked from across the room.
I froze.
That voice. I knew that voice. My bestie, Lara. Whom I loved so much.
"Oh, come on, it's funny!" Lara's laugh was bright and completely unbothered. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"
My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against the mattress beneath me, feeling the texture of the sheets, the slight dip of the old springs in the bed. This bed. I knew this bed.
I turned my head slowly, and light flooded my vision.
Light.
I could see.
The pale yellow walls. The posters of old movies tacked up with thumbtacks. The dresser with the chipped corner. Lara standing there with a ridiculous plastic trumpet in her hand, grinning like an i***t.
"Are you broken?" Lara waved the trumpet in front of my face. "Hello? Earth to Jasmine?"
I couldn't speak. My throat had closed up completely. I blinked hard, once, twice, three times, but the room didn't disappear. Lara didn't disappear.
This was real.
"Okay, you're officially scaring me." Lara dropped the trumpet on the bed and leaned closer, her brow furrowing. "Did you hit your head or something?"
I looked down at my hands. My hands. No swelling. No scars from the IV needles. No trembling weakness from blood loss. I pressed one palm against my stomach.
Flat. But not empty. Not hollow.
No baby.
The realization hit like a punch to the gut, but it wasn't the devastating grief I expected. It was relief. Sick, horrible relief, because that baby had never existed yet. That baby had never been used as leverage and then ripped away.
"Lara, what's today's date?" My voice came out hoarse.
"Uh, March 15th? Did you forget what day it is?" Lara tilted her head. "You have that date tonight, remember? With your alpha mate? The man you won't shut up about?"
March 15th, 2022.
Four years ago.
The day it all started.
I sucked in a breath, and it felt like the first real breath I'd taken in years. The moon goddess had actually done it. She'd sent me back. Given me another chance. 'Thank you so much, Selene.'
I tried connecting with my wolf but I couldn't her yet. Was she stuck in the future? I should probably worry about that later.
"Jasmine, seriously, you're freaking me out—"
"I'm fine." I swung my legs out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. Real. Solid. "I'm fine. Just had a weird dream."
"Must've been one hell of a dream. You look like you've seen a ghost."
More like I'd been one.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, my fingers steady now, and saw his name on the screen.
*Christopher: Can't wait to see you tonight. I'll pick you up at 7.*
I stared at the message until the screen blurred. Once, those words would've made my heart soar. I would've read them fifty times, analyzing every syllable for hidden meaning, proof that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Now, they made my stomach turn.
Too bad, at this time, he already knew about my gift. Hell, I had already slept with him. He probably wanted to make me soften up and exchange my eyes for his wicked mother.
"Ooh, is that him?" Lara peeked over my shoulder. "Look at you, all flushed. You're so into this guy."
I forced a smile. "Yeah. I guess I am."
Lara didn't notice the lie. She never did. She grabbed the trumpet again and blew another obnoxious note. "Well, don't screw it up tonight! You've been talking about Alpha Chris for weeks. Handsome, wealthy, a very large pack, I don't know how you landed him."
"Luck, I guess."
"Seriously though, he seems really into you. That's rare for someone like us—I mean, you know, an omega and all. Most alphas wouldn't even look twice."
I bit the inside of my cheek. Lara didn't mean to be cruel. She was just honest to the point of bluntness. In my first life, her words had stung. Now, they just reminded me how foolish I'd been.
"I should start getting ready," I said.
"It's only noon. You have seven hours."
"I want to look perfect."
Lara grinned. "That's my girl. Go knock him dead."
If only she knew how literal that sentiment would become.
***
I stood in front of my closet, staring at the dress I'd worn that night. Soft pink, delicate lace, cinched waist. I'd thought it made me look sophisticated. Mature. Worthy of an alpha's attention.
Now, I saw it for what it was. A costume. Something to play the part he wanted me to play.
I shoved it to the back of the closet and pulled out skinny jeans and a fitted crop top. Simple. Practical.
When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. My eyes were harder now. My jaw was set. I looked like someone who'd survived something terrible.
Because I had.
"Thank you," I whispered to my reflection. To the moon goddess. To whatever force had dragged me back from death and given me this. "I won't waste it."
***
Christopher's car pulled up exactly at seven.
I watched from the window as he stepped out, all easy confidence and perfect posture. He wore a dark button-down that fit him like it had been tailored. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless. He was looking the part. Probably to show me that he deserved what I was about to give.
I hated him.
The mate bond hummed in my chest, pulling at me, but it was weaker this time. Muted. Like someone had turned down the volume. I didn't know if that was because of the time travel or because my soul remembered what he'd done, but I was grateful for it.
I could think clearly. Finally. I didn't know if it was the same for him. I mean, he never even acknowledged me as his mate. I wonder how he was able to do that.
I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs before he could knock.
"Wow," he said when he saw me. His eyes swept over me, and his smile widened. "You look amazing."
"Thanks." I forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes because I knew I looked anything but amazing. "You too."
He opened the car door for me, ever the gentleman. I slid into the passenger seat, and his scent. That sandalwood scent. It used to make my head spin. Now it just made me nauseous.
"Nervous?" he asked as he started the car.
"A little."
"Don't be. Tonight's going to be perfect."
Right. Perfect. Just like the fifty other perfect nights that led me straight into hell.
He reached over and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. The bond flared, warm and insistent, trying to convince me this was right. That he was mine and I was his.
I let him hold my hand and said nothing.
The restaurant was exactly as I remembered. Upscale, dimly lit, the kind of place that screamed *I have money and I want you to know it*. He'd picked it specifically to impress me. It had worked the first time. I felt so special. Don't blame me, an omega who was over the moon for being mated to someone like Alpha Christopher.
"This place is incredible," I said, playing my part.
"Only the best for you." He pulled out my chair, and I sat, biting back the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Dinner was a performance. He ordered for both of us without asking what I wanted. He told charming stories about pack politics and his responsibilities as an alpha. He complimented my eyes, my smile, the way I laughed.
Every word was a script I'd already heard.
When dessert came, he pulled a small box from his pocket.
"I know it's only been two months," he said, opening it to reveal a delicate silver bracelet. "But I wanted to give you something. To show you how much you mean to me."
I stared at the diamond bracelet. The same one I'd worn every day for four years. The same one I'd clutched in the hospital when I lost the baby.
"It's beautiful," I said.
He fastened it around my wrist, his fingers lingering on my skin. "You're special, Jasmine. I hope you know that."
I looked up at him, and for a split second, I let the mask slip. I let him see the cold hatred simmering beneath the surface.
But he didn't notice.
He never did.
"Thank you, Christopher," I said sweetly. "I'll treasure it."
And I would. As a reminder of exactly what I was going to take from him.
His expression shifted, going somber. And boom. It was time. The manipulation that had worked so perfectly the first time.
"Is something wrong?" I asked on cue.
He let out a heavy sigh. "It's my mother."
- Writer
