Reborn As The Shadow Alpha's Vengeful Luna

Adeline Harvey POV:

I died at the hands of my own family.

My sister framed me for treason. My brother swung the silver blade. My parents called it a necessary sacrifice. My body was dumped in the barren lands like trash, and the last thing I heard was my sister whispering, "The house will finally be quiet now."

But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance.

I woke up ten years in the past, drowning in the same lake where Kandace once tried to kill me. This time, I know the truth. I know every lie she'll tell, every manipulation, every move they'll make to destroy me. And I know the secret hidden in my own blood-a poison that will save Kandace today and rot her from the inside out, one drop at a time.

They think I'm still the weak, obedient Omega they can use and discard. They have no idea that I've already begun to dismantle their world.

I'll smile while they beg me for help. I'll whisper sweet lies while I twist their secrets into weapons. I'll let them think they're still in control-until the very moment they realize they've already lost.

The Wileys wanted a monster. They created one. And this time, I'm holding the blade.

They killed me once. They will never get the chance again.

***

The silver chains bit into my wrists.

Cold. A searing cold that had nothing to do with the biting wind on the execution platform and everything to do with the metal's poison. For a werewolf, silver was a death sentence whispered against the skin.

My breath hitched, a ragged sound swallowed by the murmurs of the Blackwood Pack members gathered below. Their faces were a blur of contempt and disgust.

"Adeline Harvey," a voice boomed, sharp and final. My father's voice. Gamma Franco Wiley. "You stand accused of betraying this pack. A crime for which there is no forgiveness."

My eyes found him. He stood tall, his expression a mask of grim duty. Beside him, my mother, Jerry, was weeping. Not for me. Her tears were for the family name, for the shame I had supposedly brought upon them. Her sobs were a performance.

And then there was Kandace. My sweet, perfect sister. She huddled in our mother's arms, her shoulders shaking. But as her eyes met mine over Jerry's shoulder, I saw it. A flicker of triumph. A cruel, satisfied smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The final member of my family stood before me. My brother, Junior. His hand was wrapped around the hilt of a silver blade, its polished surface reflecting the gray sky. He was the pack's enforcer. Today, he was my executioner.

I scanned their faces one last time, burning their cold, righteous expressions into my soul.

Just one week ago, Kandace had come to my room, tears streaming down her perfect face. She'd begged me to deliver a letter for her, a love note to a boy from a neighboring pack she wasn't supposed to see.

"Please, Addie," she'd whispered, her voice trembling. "You're the only one I can trust."

Like a fool, I'd believed her. I'd wanted to protect her.

The letter wasn't a love note. It was a detailed map of our pack's patrol routes and defensive weaknesses. The recipient wasn't a lovesick boy; he was a Rogue scout. They caught me at the border, the map in my hand. I had no explanation. Kandace played the part of the innocent, heartbroken victim, deceived by her wicked, jealous sister.

Now, back on the platform, I stopped fighting the chains. The struggle was pointless. All that was left was the fire in my chest, a hatred so pure it burned away the fear.

Junior raised the blade. For a second, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes-doubt, maybe even regret. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the hard glint of a son doing his duty, protecting his family's honor.

The silver fell.

Pain, white-hot and absolute, tore through me. My vision blurred, the world dissolving into a smear of gray and black.

My consciousness ripped away from my body. I was floating, weightless, looking down at the scene. I saw my own limp form crumpled at the base of the execution post, blood staining the weathered wood.

I heard Franco's voice, low and clear. "You did well, son. For the family, it was a necessary sacrifice."

I saw Kandace nestle closer to Jerry, her whisper carrying on the wind. "Momma, the house will finally be quiet now."

A tremor of pure rage shook my soul. If there was another life, if there was any justice in this universe, I would burn them all to the ground. I would make them feel this. All of it.

Two guards stepped forward. They grabbed my body by the arms, their movements rough, as if they were handling trash. They dragged me off the platform, my head bumping against the wooden steps.

They tossed my corpse into the back of a rusty pickup truck. The engine sputtered to life, and the truck rumbled away, heading toward the desolate, rocky barrens at the edge of the pack lands. The place where they dumped waste and the bodies of outcasts.

My soul drifted after it, a silent, vengeful ghost. I watched as they pulled my body from the truck bed and threw it onto a pile of rocks.

One of the guards dusted off his hands with a look of disgust. "Good riddance." They climbed back into the truck and drove off, leaving me to the carrion birds and the encroaching night.

The howls of wild animals echoed in the distance. My spectral form felt thin, stretched, on the verge of dissipating into nothing.

Just as the last of my strength was fading, a figure emerged from the shadows.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and cloaked entirely in black. He moved with a silent grace that was unnerving. He stopped before the pile of rocks where my body lay.

His movements were gentle, almost reverent, as he reached down and lifted my broken form into his arms. He held me as if I were something precious.

With his bare hands, he clawed at the frozen earth, digging a shallow grave. He placed me inside, carefully arranging my limbs.

He didn't erect a marker. Instead, he placed a single, rare flower on the freshly turned soil. A moonpetal, its petals glowing with a soft, ethereal light in the darkness.

I strained to see his face, to understand who would show such kindness to a traitor's corpse. But his features were lost in the deep shadow of his hood. I could only feel an ancient, overwhelming power radiating from him, and a sorrow so profound it felt like a physical weight.

He knelt, his head bowed. A voice, raw and guttural with pain, whispered a single word into the night.

"Mine."

The word struck my soul like a physical blow. A powerful force, like a maelstrom, erupted from the ground. It latched onto me, pulling me, dragging me down into an endless, spinning darkness.

Adeline Harvey POV:

My lungs were on fire.

The endless black vortex shattered, replaced by an agonizing burning in my chest. I gasped, but instead of air, icy water flooded my mouth and nose.

My eyes flew open.

I wasn't in the void. I was underwater, looking up at the shimmering, distorted light of the sun. I recognized the murky green depths, the tangled weeds brushing against my legs.

This was the lake on the Wiley estate.

A memory, sharp and brutal, sliced through my confusion. I was ten years younger. Kandace had dared me to a swimming race to the small island in the middle of the lake. Halfway there, she'd feigned a cramp, and when I'd turned back to help her, she'd shoved my head underwater, holding me down with surprising strength.

I had been reborn. Not into a new life, but back into the old one. Back to another beginning of my end.

Primal survival instinct kicked in. I thrashed, my limbs heavy and clumsy, fighting my way toward the surface. My head broke through the water, and I took a huge, shuddering breath, coughing and sputtering.

"Adeline!" A furious roar came from the shore. "How dare you push Kandace into the water!"

I turned, treading water. My brother, Junior, stood at the lake's edge. Kandace was wrapped in his arms, soaking wet and shivering dramatically. Her face was buried in his chest, but I could see the smug satisfaction in her eyes.

This was it. This was the day they first branded me as "vicious." The day my family's trust in me began to die.

In my first life, I had panicked. I had screamed my innocence, my words dissolving into hysterical sobs that only made me look guiltier.

This time, a chilling calm settled over me.

I didn't waste my breath on useless denials. Instead, I let the water support me and took a moment to examine myself. My body felt weak, but it was whole. Unbroken.

Junior's face was contorted with rage at my silence. He saw it as defiance. "Get her out of there!" he barked at a nearby guard.

Rough hands hauled me from the water. I stumbled onto the grassy bank, dripping and shivering, a pathetic sight.

Kandace immediately detached herself from Junior and rushed toward me, her face a perfect mask of concern. "Oh, sister, are you alright? I know you didn't mean to..."

I met her gaze, and my eyes were as cold as the lake water. I said nothing. The look on my face made her falter, her practiced words dying on her lips.

Junior stepped between us, a protective shield for his precious, perfect sister. "What do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded.

I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of lake water. My voice was hoarse, but steady. "Kandace," I said, my voice cutting through her fake whimpers. "Why don't you tell our brother exactly why we were in the water?"

She froze. The script was simple: she was supposed to say I pushed her.

"I... I just wanted to give you this necklace," she stammered, her lower lip trembling. She opened her palm to reveal a cheap, gaudy glass pendant. "But you said I was being fake... and then you... you pushed me."

Junior's scowl deepened. He glared at me, his disgust palpable.

A humorless smile touched my lips. I held up my right hand. A thin, red line was carved into my wrist, angry and raw against my pale skin.

"If I pushed her," I asked Junior, my voice level, "then why are there scratches from her fingernails on my wrist?"

I turned my cold gaze back to Kandace. "This necklace. Are you sure you were trying to give it to me on the shore? Or did it happen to break off in the water when I grabbed for it, trying to stop you from holding my head down?"

I slowly uncurled my own fingers. Lying in my palm was the other half of the broken clasp, and nestled beside it, two tiny, shimmering flecks of gold.

Kandace instinctively hid her hands behind her back. But it was too late. We had all seen the chipped gold polish on her nails that morning.

Junior's expression faltered. He wasn't a fool. The evidence was right there. The story didn't add up.

I pressed my advantage, my voice dropping lower. "Did I push her, Junior? Or did she try to drown me and lose her balance in the struggle?"

The color drained from Kandace's face. She stared at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fear. She had expected tears and denials, not cold logic and proof.

Her body went limp. She let out a series of ragged, theatrical coughs, her hand flying to her chest. It was her go-to move, faking a fainting spell to escape any situation where she was losing.

But I knew, this time, it wasn't entirely an act. The shock was real. And it was about to trigger something far worse.

Adeline Harvey POV:

Kandace's coughs grew more violent, a wet, rattling sound that echoed in the sudden silence. Her face, already pale from her lie being exposed, took on a bluish tint. She was genuinely struggling for breath.

Junior, his suspicion forgotten, scooped her into his arms. "Kandace! What's wrong?"

He carried her back to the manor, shouting for the family doctor. I followed at a distance, my wet clothes clinging to me, my expression unreadable.

They laid her on a velvet sofa in the main drawing room. By the time Dr. Miller arrived, she was gasping, her chest heaving.

He took one look at her, checked her pulse, and listened to her lungs. His face grew grim. "It's her condition," he announced to the anxious family gathered around. "Acute Hemolytic Rejection Syndrome. The shock must have triggered it. She needs a blood transfusion. Immediately."

My mother, Jerry, shrieked. "Use the stored blood! Hurry!"

Dr. Miller shook his head, his expression grave. "We don't have time to prep it from the pack's blood bank. And besides, her blood type is incredibly rare. There's only one person in the entire territory who is a perfect match."

Every head in the room turned. Every pair of eyes-my mother's, my father's, my brother's-landed on me. I had changed into dry clothes and was standing quietly by the door, an unwelcome specter at their family crisis.

It was just like my first life. In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter or a sister. I was a resource. A living, breathing bag of compatible blood.

Jerry rushed toward me, her face, which had been twisted in disgust moments before, was now a mask of desperate pleading. She grabbed my hands. "Adeline, please. You have to save your sister."

I pulled my hands from her grasp, my touch gentle but firm. My voice was quiet, devoid of emotion. "Why would I save someone who just tried to drown me?"

A flicker of shame crossed Junior's face, but it was quickly replaced by urgency. "This isn't the time for that, Adeline!"

Then, my father, Franco Wiley, spoke. His voice was low and heavy with the weight of command. "Adeline. It is your duty as a member of this family."

A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. Duty? Where was their duty when they stood by and watched me die?

I let my shoulders slump, my eyes wide with feigned fear. "I... I'm scared," I whispered, looking down at my hands. "I don't like needles."

My apparent weakness was like a balm to their frayed nerves. They relaxed. This, they understood. A petty, childish fear. Something they could manage.

"If you save Kandace," Jerry offered instantly, her voice syrupy sweet, "I'll buy you that new dress from the city designer you were looking at."

My other brother, Rylan, who had been silent until now, scoffed from across the room. "Just do it. It's an honor for an Omega to be useful to the family."

I looked at each of them, their faces a gallery of hypocrisy. They had no idea. My blood, a perfect match for Kandace, carried a secret. A quirk of my unique lineage. For her, it was a temporary cure, but a long-term poison. It would save her now, but over time, it would slowly, irrevocably damage her from the inside out.

It was the perfect weapon.

I took a deep breath, as if steeling myself. I nodded slowly. "Okay," I said, my voice small. "I'll save her."

I looked directly at Franco. "But you have to promise me. All of you. You will never, ever accuse me of something I didn't do again."

Franco waved a dismissive hand, his patience wearing thin. "Yes, yes, of course. Just get on with it."

Dr. Miller, relieved, quickly set up the transfusion equipment. I sat on a chair beside the sofa where Kandace lay, now barely conscious. I extended my arm.

I watched as the needle slid into my vein. I didn't flinch.

Dark red blood, filled with the hatred of a past life and the cold promise of this one, began to flow into the collection bag.

The entire Wiley clan was huddled around Kandace, their backs to me. They watched with bated breath as the bag of my blood was hung and the tube connected to her arm. No one offered me a word of thanks. No one asked if I was okay.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, but it wasn't from the blood loss. It was the heady, thrilling vertigo of vengeance finally beginning.

A few minutes later, the color began to return to Kandace's cheeks. Her breathing evened out, becoming deep and regular.

Jerry burst into tears of relief, cradling Kandace's head and kissing her forehead. Franco and Junior shared a look of profound relief.

A nurse removed the needle from my arm, pressing a piece of cotton against the puncture. "You're done," she said curtly, before turning her attention back to the family's precious jewel.

I watched them, a happy family reunited, their crisis averted.

And a slow, cold smile spread across my face.