Vengeance Reborn

Chapter 14 ~ Rage & Worry

Chapter 9 ~ What Memory Leaves Behind

Alpha Sebastian’s POV

Michael McGarland is standing less than twenty feet away from me, alive, smirking, and untouched.

My daughter remembers him as her executioner.

Every instinct I possess demands that I cross this courtyard and erase the problem before history gets the chance to repeat itself. My bear growls while my vampire thirsts for blood, and my hands curl at my sides as I watch the injured student being helped away.

Then I look at Michael's arrogant expression, and my rage burns hotter.

Perhaps Leona isn't the only one struggling to separate the man standing here from the monster she remembers.

Michael smiles. “Alpha Knight.”

I take one step.

Sophia's hand closes around mine.

Sebastian.

He killed our daughter.

Not yet.

Those two words stop me.

Barely.

My jaw clenches as her voice continues through our bond.

And if you attack him now, what happens to Leona? What happens to everything we're trying to change?

Fuck.

Michael watches me with growing curiosity. I want nothing more than to wipe that expression off his face, but Sophia squeezes my hand once.

A reminder.

Choice.

That's what this second life is supposed to give us. We cannot punish someone for a crime he hasn't committed yet, no matter how clearly we remember the consequences.

I turn toward Gabrielle.

“Where is she?”

“Eastern woods. Dominick took her.”

Good. He did exactly what I asked.

I give Michael one final look.

If he becomes the man Leona remembers, I will end him myself.

Today, however, my daughter needs me more than my rage does.

---

Luna Sophia’s POV

I know the look on Sebastian's face. I've seen it during war, when our territory was threatened, and whenever someone dared hurt Leona.

If I don't stop him now, Michael McGarland may not make it to class.

I tighten my fingers around Sebastian's hand.

Not here.

His fury slams through our bond. Sophia—

Our daughter first.

That reaches him, although barely.

His attention shifts toward Gabrielle.

“Where?”

“Eastern woods. Dominick took her.”

Relief loosens the pressure in my chest. Dominick got her away before she lost control.

Sebastian looks ready to leave immediately, but I touch his chest.

“Give me a moment.”

He doesn't like it, but he allows it anyway.

I guide Gabrielle several yards away from the crowd. Her warm brown eyes are frightened as she asks, “Luna, what happened to her?”

Goddess, I wish I could tell her.

Instead, I take her hands. “You did exactly the right thing.”

“That doesn't answer me.”

“No, it doesn't.” Her face falls, and I squeeze her hands. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. There are things Leona has to decide when she's ready to share.”

Gabrielle glances toward the eastern woods. “She looked terrified and angry. She looked at Michael like she hated him.”

My stomach tightens.

“For now, don't question her about him. Don't mention what happened to anyone else, and don't let Ingrid or Michael learn anything about Leona from you.”

She nods before hesitating.

“Is she dangerous?”

The question hurts, but I understand why she's asking.

“Leona is hurting. That's what you saw today. Dominick will keep her grounded until we reach them.”

Gabrielle grips Leona's abandoned bag. “Can I come?”

I brush one of her braids behind her shoulder. “Give us a little time first. She loves you. Remember that.”

Her expression softens.

“I love her too.”

“I know.”

Sebastian's impatience pushes through our bond.

Sophia.

I almost smile.

“I have to go.”

Gabrielle nods. “Please find her.”

“We will.”

I return to Sebastian and slip my hand into his.

“Come on, Alpha.”

Together, we walk away from Michael.

---

Dominick’s POV

Leona hasn't spoken in several minutes, and I don't pressure her to change that.

We're sitting beneath an enormous pine several miles beyond the university grounds. I chose somewhere quiet, far enough from students and traffic that nothing should drag her back into what happened.

She sits with her knees drawn against her chest while I remain several feet away, close enough to protect her without crowding her. Her eyes are glassy, and I pretend not to notice whenever she wipes at them.

Eventually, I hold out my water bottle.

She stares at it.

“I'm not poisoned.”

Nothing.

“Pretty sure you'd kill me before poison got the chance anyway.”

The corner of her mouth twitches.

She takes the bottle.

Victory.

I lean against the tree with a thousand questions running through my head, but one sentence keeps drowning out the others.

He killed our pups.

I don't understand it, and I'm not going to demand that she explain something she clearly isn't ready to share.

“You know I'm staying, right?”

She looks at me. “I figured.”

“Good, because I'm not carrying your dramatic ass twice in one morning.”

That earns me the weakest glare I've ever received from Leona Knight.

I'll take it.

Her breathing gradually steadies as the rage in her aura fades, leaving grief behind.

I hate feeling it coming from her. More than that, I hate whoever put it there.

So I wait.

Whatever happened between Leona and Michael McGarland can remain a mystery for another hour.

My best friend can't.

---

Leona’s POV

I don't know when I start crying. There isn't a dramatic sob or warning; I'm simply staring at the dirt beneath my boots when something warm slides down my cheek.

I wipe it away, only for another tear to follow.

“Damn it.”

Dominick doesn't look at me, and I'm grateful. I hate crying in front of people, especially when I can't explain why.

My eyes feel swollen as the trees blur around me.

Seeing Michael again ripped open eight years of memories at once, and the cruelest part is that the good ones came first.

Once upon a time, I loved Michael McGarland.

Goddess, I loved him.

I discovered he was my mate at my eighteenth-birthday celebration. I still remember the shock and overwhelming excitement as Tempest lost her mind inside me. My entire body seemed to recognize him before my thoughts caught up.

I stared at him believing the Moon Goddess had finally revealed the person meant to share my life.

I was so unbelievably happy.

Part of me wanted to run to Mom and Dad and tell them everything, only to remember they were gone. Their deaths had already carved a hole through me, and finding my mate felt like the Goddess finally giving something back.

A family.

A future.

Someone who would choose me.

I believed the mate bond meant safety.

What a f*****g joke.

At first, Michael gave me exactly what I needed. He was charming and protective, and I mistook possessiveness for passion. He knew how to make me feel wanted at a time when grief had left me desperate to belong somewhere again.

Then we mated.

Married.

I became his Luna and believed we were going to build something powerful together.

When I discovered I was pregnant, I cried from happiness.

I spent hours imagining our babies. Would they have his eyes or my hair? Would they shift early? Would Snow become unbearably protective while Tempest hovered over every tiny sound?

I talked to them before they were even big enough to kick.

I loved them before I knew their faces.

Michael would place his hand against my stomach and promise me everything. Sometimes his smile seemed forced, but I ignored the discomfort because I wanted those promises to be true.

Then the life I'd built began changing around me.

Arguments became insults. Possessiveness became control, and control eventually became humiliation. Michael knew exactly where to hurt me because I had willingly handed him every vulnerable part of myself—my loneliness, grief, fears, and desperate need to belong after losing Mom and Dad.

Things I'd told him privately became weapons.

Then came the apologies and charm. For a while, those moments kept me trapped in the belief that our marriage could still become what I'd imagined.

So I stayed longer than I should have.

The cheating eventually stripped away what little trust remained.

Or maybe it had never stopped.

I knew Michael had been a playboy before me. I knew he'd been with Ingrid, but I'd believed finding his mate would change that.

Instead, his betrayals became another way to control and degrade me. When I resisted what he wanted, he took choices from me—forcing me to witness things I never wanted to see, pressuring me into situations I wanted no part of, and violating boundaries that should never have needed explanation.

Somehow, through all of it, I remained pregnant.

As my love died, the pain of his betrayals changed too. Maybe there was simply less of my heart left for him to break.

Then came the warehouse.

My chest locks.

Concrete flashes behind my eyelids, followed by cold, blood, my body refusing to work, Michael's face, and the desperate knowledge that I couldn't save my babies.

I jerk forward as my lungs seize.

Leona, Tempest calls.

Snow presses against me from within. Breathe. You're here.

I drag air into my lungs until the forest slowly returns.

Pine trees. Dirt. Morning sunlight. Dominick sitting nearby.

2018.

Not 2026.

I'm alive.

The thought of my children catches painfully beneath my ribs, and I wrap my arms tighter around myself.

“I loved him.”

The confession escapes before I can stop it.

Dominick turns his head but doesn't ask who.

“I really loved him,” I whisper. “And I was so f*****g happy.”

He remains quiet.

“I thought...” I swallow against the ache in my throat. “I thought I had finally gotten something good.”

A bitter laugh escapes me.

“Stupid.”

“No.”

His answer is immediate.

I look at him.

“Don't,” he says.

That's almost enough to break me.

I want to tell him everything. I want to put my head on his shoulder and tell him about the marriage, my babies, the cheating, abuse, humiliation, warehouse, and death. I want to tell him I woke up yesterday at seventeen carrying eight years of memories he never lived.

Dominick and Gabrielle are my best friends, yet when I need them most, I'm lying to them through silence.

“I can't tell you.”

“I know.”

“You don't.”

“No,” he says quietly. “I don't.”

There is no anger in his voice, which somehow makes the tears fall faster.

“I want to.”

“I know that too.”

My hands shake. “What if I hurt him?”

Dominick's expression tightens. “Michael?”

I nod.

“What if you hadn't grabbed me?”

He doesn't answer because we both know.

I might have killed Michael in front of everyone for crimes that haven't happened in this timeline.

That frightens me more than I want to admit.

Selene told me this future is unwritten. I don't know whether Michael was always capable of becoming the man I remember, whether something twisted him along the way, or whether outside forces played a role.

I only know I can't execute him based solely on memories from a future I'm here to change.

Tempest snarls inside me. He killed our pups.

Snow rumbles her agreement.

“I know,” I whisper.

Dominick hears me but says nothing.

What scares me now isn't only Michael.

It's what seeing him brought out of me.

For one terrible moment, I wanted him afraid and helpless before he could ever make me feel that way again.

I wanted him to suffer.

That isn't who I want to become.

“I don't know what to do.”

For several seconds, only the wind answers.

Then Dominick moves closer, slowly enough that I could stop him, and settles beside me until our shoulders touch.

“You don't have to know today.”

My throat tightens as I rest my head against his shoulder.

He doesn't joke, tease, or demand answers.

He simply stays.

Eventually, Tempest and Snow begin to settle with me.

My memories tell me what Michael became once.

They don't get to decide what I become now.

Before I make any choice about him, I need facts from this timeline.

And until I have them, I refuse to let revenge make my decisions for me.