Killed and Reborn: My Alpha’s Obsession

“You should be grateful.” That was the last thing my father ever said to me. His voice floated above me, thin and distant, as my knees dragged through the mud and rotting leaves of the eastern forest. My wrists were lashed behind my back with silver‑threaded rope. Every movement tore my skin a little more. “You should be grateful, Aria,” he repeated, like a kindly reminder instead of a sentence. “Most girls would kill to be Luna of the Blackmoon Pack.” I coughed, tasting blood. My throat burned with every breath. “I… didn’t… do anything,” I rasped. “Please—” The word slipped out on habit, helpless and small. A hand seized my hair and yanked my head back. My father’s face loomed over mine, eyes cold, lips twisted with disgust I’d never let myself see before. “Still begging,” he snarled and slapped me hard enough that my ears rang. “Even now.” The wolves around us snickered, low and mean. I turned my head, trying to find my mother. She stood a few paces behind my father, hands crushing her shawl, eyes red but dry. She didn’t move. She never did. “You should be grateful, Aria,” she whispered, gaze skittering away. “Grateful you were chosen at all.” Chosen. I almost laughed. My sister stepped into view, red lips curved in a soft smile that didn’t touch her eyes. Lena’s pretty face glowed in the blood‑red light of the swollen moon. “Oh, Aria,” she murmured, brushing imaginary dust off my torn dress with dainty fingers. “Really. You should be grateful. You got everything you ever wanted. Our parents’ attention. The Alpha’s name. A big house and fancy title. And now—” She leaned closer, her perfume cutting through the copper stink of my own blood. “You get to die important.” My stomach lurched. I thought of all the times I’d given her my clothes, my savings, my time, because she’d smiled and said I was the best sister in the world. Because Mother had said, “You should be grateful your sister relies on you.” I was so very grateful. A shadow moved between the trees. The wolves fell silent. Lucian Black emerged from the darkness like a verdict. He was taller than I remembered from our wedding day, or maybe pain had just made the world seem smaller. Broad shoulders under a black shirt, sleeves rolled to reveal strong forearms dusted with dried dirt and blood. His hair was disheveled, as if he’d run his hands through it too many times. His jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking there, golden eyes fixed on me. In another life, I’d thought those eyes were beautiful. Now, in the light of the blood moon, they glowed wrong. Too bright. Too sharp. Like something other than human was staring through them. They called him the cursed Alpha of Blackmoon behind his back. I’d heard the whispers in the pack house: He’s dangerous. He goes black in the eyes when the curse takes him. And when he loses control… someone always dies.** Tonight, that someone was me. I wanted to believe it wasn’t really him making this choice. That some invisible force was steering his hand. But it was his mouth that opened now. “Aria Black,” he said, voice carrying effortlessly through the clearing. No warmth. No hesitation. Just cold Alpha authority. “For the crime of treason against your Alpha and your pack—” “I didn’t,” I croaked, chest burning. “I didn’t betray you, Lucian. Please, you have to—” Our eyes met. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw something there—confusion, pain, and war. Then his gaze went flat again. “—for conspiring with our enemies and endangering Blackmoon lives,” he finished, as if I hadn’t spoken at all, “I sentence you to death.” I still didn’t even know what proof they thought they had. What lie they’d spun around my name to make this feel like justice instead of murder. The words sliced through what was left of me more surely than any claw. My mother sucked in a shaky breath. “You should be grateful,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Grateful it’s quick.” Grateful. For this. My laughter came out as a broken little sound. No one noticed. Rough hands shoved me forward. I hit the ground on my knees, hard enough that bone met rock. Pain shot up my legs. Dirt ground into the open wounds on my palms where I tried, uselessly, to catch myself. I looked up, past the ring of wolves and the hard line of Lucian’s shoulders, at the sky. The moon hung heavy and swollen overhead, stained red like freshly spilled blood. Clouds crawled across it like dark fingers. I tried to make my lips form the words one more time. I love you. I did everything you asked. Don’t do this. Only a wet wheeze came out. “Do it,” my father said. Even as Luna, no one stepped forward to stop it. The first bite hit my side like fire. Teeth tore through flesh, ripped ribs. I screamed until my voice broke until my throat filled with hot, metallic taste, and my own voice sounded like someone else’s. Claws raked down my back. My spine felt like it shattered with each strike. Above me, the wolves’ snarls blended with laughter. My father’s voice: “You should be grateful, Aria.” Lena’s soft hum. My mother’s choked sob. Through it all, Lucian stood rigid, a statue carved in shadow and moonlight. I saw him as my body finally gave way, as my arms failed and my face slammed into the cold earth. My blood seeped into the ground; the forest drank me up. For a moment, his eyes weren’t empty. They were wild with something raw. Horror. Fury. Helplessness. His mouth moved. I couldn’t hear the words over the roar in my ears. Then everything went black. ***