REBORN TO RUIN THE ALPHA KING

The sword entered Seraphina's stomach before she could finish speaking. She stared at Draven, the man she had loved for years. His hand tightened around the hilt as blood spread across her wedding dress. “Draven…” Her voice trembled. “Please.” For half a second, his golden eyes flickered. His grip loosened slightly, as if some part of him had remembered who she was. Then his expression hardened. “You should have thought about that before using forbidden magic against me.” He pulled out the sword. Seraphina collapsed to her knees. Pain tore through her body, and she pressed both hands against the wound. Blood slipped between her fingers. “I didn't control you,” she whispered. “You have to believe me.” “Enough!” His voice echoed through the royal chamber. Seraphina flinched. She had heard that tone countless times during their marriage. Whenever she tried to explain herself, whenever she asked why he treated her like an enemy, he silenced her. She had once believed that if she loved him long enough, he would eventually love her too. Now she was dying at his feet. “You were never fit to be my queen,” Draven said. He turned away, leaving her on the cold stone floor. Seraphina reached after him, but her fingers scraped against the ground. The room blurred, and the torches along the walls became distant flames. A soft laugh came from the doorway. “Still begging him to love you?” Seraphina turned her head. Elara stood there in a silver gown, looking beautiful and untouched by the horror before her. Her younger sister. The girl Seraphina had protected since childhood. The girl she had defended whenever their mother accused her of being weak. The girl she had trusted with secrets she had never shared with anyone else. “Elara…” Seraphina struggled to breathe. “Help me.” Elara approached slowly, careful not to step into the blood. “Help you?” she repeated. “You still think I care about you?” Seraphina stared at her. “You did this.” “Yes.” The answer came so easily that Seraphina almost wished she had misunderstood. “Why?” she whispered. “What did I ever do to you?” Elara crouched beside her, her smile growing colder. “You had everything I wanted. You were born a princess. You were promised to the Alpha King. You had the right to sit beside him, even though you couldn't transform into a wolf.” “I never wanted to hurt you.” “That was your problem, Seraphina. You thought being kind would make everyone love you.” Elara leaned closer. “And even when Draven despised you, you kept hoping he would change. You accepted every insult and called it love.” Seraphina's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. She had spent years making excuses for Draven. Whenever he ignored her, she blamed herself. Whenever he humiliated her, she wondered what she could do differently. She had mistaken suffering for devotion. Then Elara's smile changed. “Do you remember the egg?” Seraphina went still. “The egg…” “Your precious little secret.” Weeks earlier, after a strange illness had left Seraphina weak and feverish, her body had produced something no healer could explain: a mysterious egg, warm to the touch and marked with faint silver patterns. It was not an ordinary wolf's egg, and no one knew what creature, if any, might emerge from it. Seraphina had been frightened, but she had also felt a strange connection to it. Whatever it was, she had wanted to protect it. Elara had made sure the court saw it as proof that Seraphina was cursed. “Where is it?” Seraphina asked. Elara's eyes gleamed. “Burned.” Seraphina stopped breathing. “No.” “The guards carried it to the sacred fire this morning. Nothing remains.” “No!” Seraphina tried to crawl toward the door, but her arms gave way. A broken cry escaped her throat. The egg was gone. She had failed to protect the one mysterious thing that had come from her own body, and now she would never learn what it meant. Elara watched her struggle without offering a hand. “You should have accepted your place,” she said. “A wolfless princess was never meant to become queen.” Seraphina looked up at her sister. “Did you ever love me?” For a moment, Elara's smile disappeared. Something unreadable crossed her face, but it vanished almost immediately. “Not enough to let you keep what should have been mine.” Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Elara rose quickly, wiping the cruel expression from her face. By the time Draven returned, she looked like a worried woman mourning a terrible mistake. “It's done,” she told him softly. “She can no longer threaten you.” Draven looked at Seraphina. For one brief moment, his gaze dropped to the blood covering her hands. His jaw tightened, and his fingers shifted around the sword. He looked away before she could understand what she had seen. “Take her away,” he ordered. Two guards entered the chamber. Seraphina could barely lift her head. Her body was growing cold, and the darkness at the edges of her vision was closing in. She looked at Draven one last time. She wanted him to discover the truth. She wanted him to understand that he had killed the woman who had once been willing to sacrifice everything for him. But even now, some foolish part of her wanted him to turn around and save her. “Draven,” she breathed. He did not answer. Her lips trembled. “If there is another life…” She swallowed, fighting for the last of her breath. “I will never beg for your love again.” Her fingers loosened against the stone. The last thing she saw was Draven standing beneath the royal banners, holding the sword that had ended her life. Then everything went dark. --- Seraphina gasped. Air rushed into her lungs, and she sat upright with a strangled cry. Both hands flew to her stomach. No wound. No blood. She pressed her palms against her skin, searching for the pain that should have been there. Her fingers found only smooth fabric. She was alive. Her gaze darted around the room. White curtains framed the windows, morning sunlight fell across the dressing table, and fresh roses stood beside a silver mirror. Then she saw the blue gown hanging from the wardrobe. Her wedding gown. “No,” she whispered. She stumbled out of bed and gripped the dressing table. The mirror showed a younger face, unmarked by blood or death. A knock sounded at the door. “Your Highness?” a maid called. “Are you awake? Your parents are waiting. The wedding ceremony begins in two hours.” Seraphina froze. Two hours. She knew this morning. She remembered the ceremony, the nobles gathered in the great hall, and Draven waiting for her beneath the royal banners. She remembered walking toward him, believing that becoming his wife would give her a chance to earn his love. That choice had led her to the sword. She touched her stomach again. Her hands began to shake as the memories returned: Elara's confession, the forbidden magic, and the egg burning in the sacred fire. The egg was still gone. This second chance had not undone what happened in her first life. But she was alive, and she could still change what happened next. “Your Highness?” the maid asked. “May I come in?” “Yes.” The maid entered with a jewellery box. She stopped when she saw Seraphina standing beside the mirror. “Are you feeling unwell?” Seraphina looked at the gown. “Put it away.” The maid blinked. “But, Your Highness, the wedding—” “I know what day it is.” Her voice was quiet, but the maid immediately fell silent. Seraphina crossed the room and opened the door. Outside, servants hurried through the palace carrying flowers and trays. Musicians were rehearsing the wedding march downstairs. The same music. The same day. The same man waiting to claim her hand. But she was no longer the woman who had died begging him to love her. A guard bowed as she stepped into the corridor. “Your Highness, shall I escort you to the great hall?” Seraphina lifted her chin. “Yes.” She began walking, her heart beating harder with every step. The ancient treaty might demand a marriage. Her father might demand obedience. Draven might believe that no one could refuse the Alpha King. Let them believe it. Seraphina reached the staircase leading to the great hall. Beyond the doors, she could hear the gathering of nobles and the low murmur of two royal families waiting for their future queen. She placed one hand on the railing. In her first life, she had walked through those doors to become Draven's wife. This time, she would walk through them to refuse him. And she would do it in front of everyone.