LOGINScarlett Vance
My body burned.
So fiercely that guttural screams of pain tore from my throat, and I jolted upright.
My chest heaved frantically. My eyes were wide with fear. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to feel the places where I had been burned… but there was nothing.
No gasoline.
No fire.
My eyes narrowed in confusion as I darted them around the room. My breath caught when I realized that I wasn’t even in the warehouse in the first place.
I was in Luca and my matrimonial bedroom.
Our fucking bedroom.
On the king-size bed, the sheets were cold beneath me. Always cold and empty because my husband was rarely home.
My mouth parted open in disbelief.
What the hell was happening?
Wait… that second chance the Alpha King mentioned—did the Goddess really grant it to me?
Of course. That was the only explanation for the fact that I was still here after being burned alive by Luca and his mistress.
I had been reborn.
I quickly checked the table calendar on the bedside stand. Today was the sixteenth of June, 2024.
Yes… today was the day it all started. The day Luca told me to seduce his father. The Goddess had sent me back so I wouldn’t make the same foolish mistake.
My heart swelled with gratitude toward the Moon Goddess.
This time… I wouldn’t be a fool who trusted easily and loved blindly.
Yes… like the promise I made before the fire consumed me completely, I would burn them down first. I swore it!
But then…
Had the Alpha King been reborn too?
I quickly jumped off the bed and took a step to go find him—the man who had loved me more than anyone else—but then the door creaked open, and he walked in.
Luca Vance.
The devil himself.
His jaw was perfectly sculpted. A pair of wicked blue eyes. Smooth skin. Tall, broad shoulders.
He was so handsome, and that was why I fell in love with him at seventeen. When he asked me to marry him, I agreed without hesitation, never considering that I was nothing but a pawn. I thought I had found favor in the sight of the Goddess instead.
He smiled.
Just like that day.
It was the first time I had seen his smile directed at me, and I had been over the moon, believing my husband was finally beginning to feel something for me. But I see it now… that smile was fake.
The memory of him confessing that he had always been disgusted by me, which was why he couldn’t bring himself to touch me, flashed through my mind. I clenched my fists tightly in barely restrained fury.
Bastard!
“Scar…” he called, approaching me. When he reached me, he pulled me into an embrace. “I’m sorry I’ve been hard on you lately,” he whispered against my ear. “Everything has just been tough recently.”
The same practiced lines.
That day, I had wrapped my arms around him tightly and assured him that I understood how the pack and clubhouse responsibilities must have been weighing on him. Then I asked if there was any way I could help—and that was when he asked me to seduce his father.
But not anymore.
Instead, I shoved him off me roughly and took a step back as if he had suddenly burned me.
His mouth parted in disbelief. Clearly, he had not expected that his pathetic wife—who once craved even the slightest touch from him—would be the one pulling away now. Then his eyes flashed with anger, which he quickly masked with a practiced smile.
“Are you okay, Scar?” he asked, extending his hand to touch me… but I quickly took another step back.
I knew I shouldn’t show my disgust so openly, but I couldn’t stop the reflexes in my body. It was as if they moved before my mind could catch up.
This time, he dropped the act.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Scar?” he snarled in frustration. “You complain all the time that I never make time for you, and now that I’m trying to be a good husband, you’re pushing me away.”
Liar.
Pathetic liar.
You are no good husband. You’re only acting this way because you want to make your ridiculous request. I wished I could spit those words at him and slap that fake expression off his face.
His scrutinizing gaze fell on me. “Tell me… are you rebelling against your husband now, Scar?” he asked, as if I had no right to be angry.
Fuck… I hated that nickname. He called me that sweetly for years, giving me false hope that he loved me but just didn’t know how to express it.
I had consoled myself with the thought that he wouldn’t have proposed marriage if he didn’t care for me. Would he?
“I’m not rebelling against you.” I turned away from him because I was afraid I might lose control and reveal that I knew everything. “I’m just… tired, I guess.”
A moment of silence passed.
Then suddenly, I felt his arms wrap around my waist, his lips brushing against the fake mark on my neck.
On our wedding night, he had scratched my neck with his claws instead of using his fangs, just to fool everyone into believing he had claimed me.
I wanted to shove him away, but I knew if I did, he would truly suspect something was wrong. Instead, I squeezed my eyes shut, balled my fists, and forced myself to remain still in his arms.
“I understand you must be tired of being Father’s whiskey girl after all these years. Me too—I’m equally tired of living in his shadow. That’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”
Of course, it was still the same plan. Just approached differently.
At that moment, I was conflicted.
Should I suggest we reject each other? I doubted he would agree—he wasn’t done using me yet.
Or maybe… I should play along. Pretend to support him… and then burn him down slowly. I would show him he wasn’t the only one who could play this game. I could play too—and I would prove that I was the true game master.
With a broad, rehearsed smile, I turned toward him. “Yes, darling,” I said sweetly, cupping his cheeks. “I’m the princess of this pack, yet I still work as your father’s whiskey girl. That’s beneath me. And you too… I think Father should have stepped down and made you Alpha or President already, but he barely even acknowledges your presence.”
He grinned, clearly fascinated by how easily he thought he had me wrapped around his finger. “Exactly, Scar!” he agreed firmly. “Now you’re talking. That old man should have stepped down for me, but since he clearly doesn’t understand that… I think we should take it from him.”
I nodded. “Yes, darling. Let’s take everything from him.”
“Yeah… that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”
I pretended to listen attentively.
“Father likes you a lot,” he said, then quickly added, “As his whiskey girl, of course. So, I’m thinking you should get close to him. Maybe seduce him. Make him trust you enough to share pack and clubhouse secrets with you,” he said bluntly.
His confidence that I would agree made my stomach twist.
“So we can use those secrets against him and take over.”
He didn’t mention the poison yet. Not yet. In my previous life, he only suggested poisoning the Alpha after I had already handed over the documents. He said his father would still be powerful because of his connections to the other Alphas. He feared retaliation—especially against me—which was why poisoning him was the safest option.
I nodded firmly. “I will do it.”
His mouth fell open in shock. “You will do it?”
In my previous life, I had initially refused, but he manipulated me. His exact words were: If you truly love me, Scar, you’ll do this. Once you help me become Alpha, I’ll love you and become a better husband. I’ll even claim you properly for the first time.
And the foolish me—desperate for my husband’s affection—had agreed.
“Of course I will. Anything for you, darling.”
He exhaled in relief. “Oh… thank you so much, Scar. I owe my success in life to you.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”
The smile faded from my face.
I was glaring.
Of course, you owe your ruin to me.
Let the game begin…
And this time, I won’t let the Alpha die.
Scarlett's POV"The land dispute," Callum said over the phone, his voice carrying the measured quality of a man delivering information he had been waiting to confirm. "Morrow's lawyers filed the withdrawal this morning. Citing the surveyor's testimony, the two independently verified pre-interference surveys, and the registered digital copies." A pause. "The filing is clean. They reserve the right to refile. They withdrew."I stood at the study window, the phone pressed against my ear."Which lawyers?" I asked."The primary firm. Morrow's lead counsel." Callum's voice remained level. "This was not a subsidiary filing that could be walked back. This was the principal firm on the principal action. They withdrew."I processed this."When does it become official?" I asked."It already is," he replied. "Stamped, logged, court record. The land dispute is closed."I put the phone down.Stood at the window for a moment.Day one.Over the following three days, the withdrawals arrived in sequenc
Luca's POV "The inspector will look at this section first," Lilith told me, setting the folder in front of me. "Not because it is the most important. Because it is the most visible. First impression determines the frame through which they read everything that follows." I looked at the section she had marked. Community governance structure. The visible layer of how the pack organised itself in terms that human institutional language recognised. Meeting records, decision trails and financial accountability. "The tone is wrong," I said. She looked up from her own work. "It reads as defensive," I continued. "Every sentence is explaining why things are structured the way they are. Explanation implies prior accusation. An inspector reads explanation as confirmation that something needed explaining." I picked up a pen. "It should read as matter-of-fact. This is how we operate because it is the most efficient structure. Not because we are defending a choice." Lilith looked at the
Dominic's POV "She is in the study," Scarlett told me at the pack house entrance. "Cain is already there." I looked at her. She looked back at me with the expression she wore when she had already assessed something, had already made a decision about it, and was now giving me both without requiring me to arrive at them myself. "Her eyes," she said. "Grey…almost black. Old pack blood, Dagger confirmed it. The bloodline reading is not from Dark Eclipse territory." She paused. "She has been searching for three years. Her mother died eighteen months ago. She had a letter from Corin." The corridor was quiet around us. I held the information for exactly the time it required. "You are certain," I said. "I am not certain of anything," she replied. "But I am certain enough to have brought her inside." She held my gaze. "Cain asked to be present. I told him yes." I walked past her toward the study. She fell in beside me, slightly behind my right shoulder, the position she had
Scarlett's POV "Someone at the gate," Dagger's voice came through my radio. "And this individual has been asking for Dominic by name. Not the Alpha…His name." I set down what I was doing. "Send them through?" the guard asked on the same channel. "Hold them," Dagger replied. Then, off the open channel, directly to me: "I need you at the gate. Not Dominic….You." That last part told me something. Dagger did not make distinctions without reasons. If she was calling me instead of Dominic, it was because the situation required assessment before it required authority. I was at the gate in four minutes. The forecourt was quiet. The gate guard stood at the entrance, hands at his sides, watching the woman standing just inside the threshold with the attention of someone who had been told not to move on anything until the right person arrived. The woman was travel-worn. Not dramatically, not in a way that suggested crisis or flight. In the way of someone who had been moving consist
Dagger's POV "You brought two folders," I said when he came through the kitchen door. Reed looked at his hands. Two folders, one under each arm, plus the coffee he had somehow balanced through the doorway without spilling. "The second one does not work," he told me. He set both on the table, then he set the coffee down and sat across from me. I looked at the folders. The first one I recognised. The welfare investigation documentation, the section we had been reviewing daily, the progress tracking Reed maintained with the thoroughness of someone who understood that incomplete records were how things failed. He had been updating it every morning, sliding the relevant pages across the table, talking me through the changes while we drank coffee before anyone else in the pack house was properly awake. The second folder was different. Thinner. Handwritten, which Reed's materials never were, every page he produced was typed, organised, and cross-referenced. This folder looked like it
Dominic's POV "Four weeks," Cain said from across the desk. "Exactly four weeks today." "I know," I told him. He looked at the calendar on his desk, then at me, with the expression he had been wearing since the morning in his office, the expression of a man who had put down a weight he had been carrying for thirty-two years, whose shoulders were still adjusting to the absence of it. "The fractures," he said. "Where do we stand?" I went through them. Luca's position had been moving since the corridor conversation the morning I told him what Vessel said. The word on the paper was now in his jacket pocket, which Reed had reported observing without being asked. The movement was visible in how Luca occupied the pack's daily operations now, no longer adjacent to things, inside them. Contributing to the welfare inspection documentation, and taking the east perimeter patrol twice this week, sitting at Dominic's table in the study without being summoned. "His position is defining itself
Zara's POV I put the photographs down and went to the window.I had given Luca everything.For the love I had for him, I did not give him anything metaphorically, but literally everything I had been saving since I was four years old, including the memory of a door closing and the decision I made t
Zara's POV "Did you get everything I asked for?" I asked without turning from the mirror. "Yes, all of it." The voice belonged to a man I had recruited three months ago from the pack's general workforce. He's not a soldier or a biker. He's just a groundskeeper who moved through the pack house a
Scarlett's POV I studied it until I was sure it was not directed at me, but past me, toward the left side of the garden where the low stone arch opened the path leading back to the pack house. I did not mind turning around, even as my mind kept pushing that pressure into my neck. I simply tracked
Scarlet’s POV “Sure it is, and how does it feel?” I asked, like I was running an interview on him. He considered this genuinely. "Bigger than I remembered." We sat with that for a moment, like it was a heavy lump in our throats that would need water or silence to push it down. “You’re the







