His Twisted Claim

Chapter two

Standing in the yard eventually became tiring, so I made my way through the backyard to the pack house.

I stood a few feet from the back door. Mesmerized.

This was the same house I lived in for the past three years.

I slept under this roof. Ate with these people.

I couldn't stop staring. The house looked old.

Old and fancy, of course, before it was renovated a year after I became Luna.

This house has stood for years.

Housing wolves of the whitethorn pack generation after generation.

I eventually walked in.

The house was quiet except for the few omegas wandering around everywhere. Omegas were we, the ones without any title or rank.

Most of us lived outside the pack house. The ones living in the pack house were there for one thing or the other.

Mostly work though.

I took a familiar route to my old room. The one I occupied in the omega wing before I became Luna.

I walked the silent corridor until I could see the wooden door.

The door gripped the wall like it could fall at any minute.

My room.

My hand touched the door handle as I twisted it. The door swung open with a screeching noise.

It felt like being demoted, looking at all my old stuff. Memories I had in this room came rushing in. I walked inside slamming the door behind me.

I stopped thinking as I threw myself on the soft mattress.

I have had enough for one day.

The sleep came swiftly.

I woke up before the sun rose.

For a few minutes, I didn't move. I just lay there, staring into the wooden ceiling above me. Listening to the pack house.

It felt normal. Strangely normal.

But I knew better.

In my past life, this would be one of those mornings where I woke up and went about my duties.

But with the knowledge of my profound future, it was hard to do anything other than think.

I slowly sat up, pressing my hands against the thin soft mattress beneath me.

Same bed.

Same room.

Same c***k on the wall, the ones near the window before it was plastered.

I really did come back in time.

I could hear movement from the hallway outside, laughter, voices, footsteps.

“Celina!”

I froze. I knew that voice.

I turned just as the door swung open without a warning.

Martha stood there, hands on her hips, already dressed for the day.

Her grey hair was tied back in a tight bun. Her face was lined with little wrinkles. She had that no-nonsense expression she always kept on.

“There you are,” she said, eyeing me. “Don't tell me you are planning on sleeping all day.”

For a second, I couldn't respond.

Because I remembered her.

Not just this version of her, but the one from the future. Where she stood at the edge of the execution ground, saying nothing, unable to look me in the eyes.

Something twisted in my chest.

We weren't close. She was in charge of the omega wing, and she gave everyone on this wing their duties. Nevertheless, she was the only mother we knew here.

“I'm up,” I say quickly, pushing myself out of bed.

Martha nodded once.

“Good. Then stop standing there and come help. We're short of hands this morning.”

Of course. That hasn't changed.

The kitchen was already busy by the time I got there. The heat from the large cooking fire filled everywhere. The air smelled of bread and ingredients.

Other omegas could be seen moving swiftly, carrying baskets, chopping vegetables, washing ingredients.

It was loud, packed up and messy.

There was movement everywhere.

I picked up a stack of bowls without being told.

Martha glanced my way but didn't say anything.

Lesser attention was better.

She walked over to me, “sort those and bring the grain sacks from storage,” she said, already turning away.

I nodded and got to work.

It felt strange.

Doing all this again.

The same task. The same routine.

I had done this mindlessly three years ago.

While returning from the storage with a sack, I slowed down near the doorway where two warriors were talking.

“...I'm telling you, it was near the eastern ridge.”

My grip on the sack tightened.

Eastern ridge.

“I heard it too,” the other said. “Could be rogues, or bandits.”

“Or worse.”

I kept my head down as I walked past them.

My mind is already racing.

That was how it started.

Small disturbances near the border.

Until it escalated.

It was always pinned on the rogues. The rogues were wolves without a pack, they were either banished from their old packs or born without one.

It was easier to pin the blame on them.

I dropped the sack with a loud thud on the floor near the kitchen. I straightened my back as I groaned in agony. These sacks are heavy, but I learned to carry them over the years.

“Hey.”

I looked back.

Rowan.

He leaned against the doorway like he had nowhere better to be, watching me with that same smile.

“Are you always this hardworking, or are you trying to impress someone?”

I rolled my eyes, continuing what I was doing.

Typical Rowan.

He was the pack’s delta. Fourth in command. He was the one who trained the warrior.

Most especially, he was my friend. The most loyal of them.

During my execution, he was assigned duty elsewhere.

I'd like to believe he couldn't reach me on time before the blade pierced my heart.

It would destroy me completely if he was present during my execution.

“Or maybe I'd rather not get yelled at.”

He laughed.

“Fair point.”

He stepped closer, picking up the sack I just dropped.

“I'll help,” he said casually.

I paused.

That hadn't happened before.

Not like this.

Come to think of it, our encounter was a bit too early.

“You don't have to,” I said.

“I know.” He shrugged. “I want to.”

Something about the way he said it made me glance at him properly.

Rowan had always been friendly.

But this felt… different.

Maybe I was noticing things more differently now, or maybe I was overthinking it.

“With the way you are staring, people might think I like you,” he said slightly.

I raised a brow.

“And do you?”

He grinned. “Still deciding.”

Tch. He was still certainly a flirt.

I shook my head and turned away.

By midday, the work had reduced.

I stepped outside for a moment, wiping my hands on a cloth.

The courtyard was busier during the day.

Warriors moving in and out. Voices overlapping each other.

Everything looked like it was meant to, peaceful.

But I knew better. Somewhere inside all of these… something was already brewing.

I just didn't know where to look yet.

“Celina!” I turned to the sound of my name.

I could see Martha hurrying towards me, her expression tighter than usual.

“What happened?” I asked immediately.

“There's been an accident,” she said.

“Near the ridge.”

My heart skipped.

“It's bad. They're bringing them in now. The healers are presently not around.”

My head shifted from Martha to where voices aroused from.

Someone shouted from the gate.

“They're

here!”

I turned towards the entrance.

And at that moment… I knew something had changed, because all this didn't happen if my memories were quite right.