The Forsaken Omega's Bloody Second Chance At Revenge

Ellery POV:

"Why is she still holding on? She looks absolutely terrible, like a shriveled, hollowed-out old hag."

The sweet, sickening voice of Blaire Mitchell shattered the freezing silence of my bedroom. I struggled to turn my heavy head against the sweat-soaked pillows. My husband, Auguste, the Alpha of the Sullivan Pack, stood at the foot of my bed. But he was not alone. Blaire clung to his arm like a blood-sucking parasite, her manicured fingers deliberately tracing the broad expanse of his chest. They looked down at my broken, dying body with a sickening mixture of pity and absolute superiority.

"Auggie," Blaire cooed, her innocent facade slipping entirely to reveal the greedy, venomous core beneath. "She stole my rightful place as your Mate for five long years. She squandered her usefulness, worked herself into a literal walking corpse just to pay off your family's debts, and now she is just deliberately dragging this out to torture us, isn't she? Our four-year-old son is playing in the snow outside, waiting for his mother to officially become the one and only Luna of Sullivan Manor. We cannot let this useless, barren woman occupy my throne any longer. Once she breathes her last, everything she brought from the Kensington estate will finally be ours."

The sheer, unadulterated audacity of her words struck me harder than any physical blow. My vision blurred, not from the deadly fever boiling my blood, but from the violent surge of fury that ripped through my chest. The blatant, shameless display of their affair right in front of my dying eyes ignited a blazing inferno within my soul. My heart, which I thought had died from exhaustion, pounded with a fierce, agonizing hatred.

Barren? Useless?

I, Ellery Sullivan, was his true, legal spouse. For five long years, I had bled myself dry to save the crumbling Sullivan Pack. When Auguste returned from the war, claiming a devastating silver-poisoning injury had left him completely impotent and unable to sire an heir, I stayed by his side. I bore the vicious whispers of high society, willingly taking the blame as a barren female to protect his fragile Alpha pride.

While he played the tragic war hero, I took over his family's massive debts. I worked day and night, pouring my mother's vast Kensington fortune into his failing businesses. I sold my own jewels, stayed up endless winter nights balancing ledgers in the freezing study, and drove my body to the absolute breaking point just to keep the Sullivan name pristine. I literally worked myself into an early grave for this family, sacrificing my youth, my health, and my very soul just to see him succeed.

And this was my reward. Only yesterday did I discover the bloody truth. He was never impotent. It was all a meticulously crafted lie. He had simply been hiding his true love and their four-year-old bastard son. While I was coughing up blood over his endless account books, Auguste was using the very wealth I exhausted my life to rebuild to construct a magnificent, luxurious manor for his secret family, leaving me to rot in this decaying, drafty villa once my usefulness ran out.

"Soon, Blaire," Auguste promised, his low voice a brutal knife to my heart, pulling me from my agonizing memories. He stroked her hair, his tone carrying a sickeningly gentle assurance. "When her body finally gives out, I will make you my true, my one and only. She will leave everything to us."

The sheer injustice of it boiled my blood. A violent, rattling cough racked my frail body. Dark, warm blood spilled from my lips, staining the coarse linen sheets. But I refused to look weak.

I gathered the absolute last shred of my fading life force and forced my head up. I locked my gaze onto Auguste, channeling every ounce of my burning, venomous hatred into that single stare.

Auguste's gaze fell upon me, and he suddenly froze. The pure, unadulterated hatred burning in my eyes seemed to catch him completely off guard. For a heartbeat, the air in the room grew heavy, thick with a dark, suffocating tension. His jaw clenched. A strange, almost predatory hunger flashed in his dark eyes, a magnetic, dangerous pull that had never existed in our five years of sterile marriage.

It was the look of an apex predator, fierce, dark, and overwhelmingly possessive, completely contradicting the cold, untouched husband he had played for years. The raw sexual tension in that single, burning stare was undeniable, sending a phantom, electrifying shiver down my spine. My inner wolf stirred, confused by the sudden, scorching heat flaring in her belly, a twisted, undeniable pull that still refused to fully break. He took a half-step toward my bed, as if hypnotized by the violent fire in my dying eyes, completely forgetting the woman clinging to his arm.

Sensing his dangerous distraction, Blaire dug her sharp nails into his sleeve. Her sweet mask slipped further. "Auggie? Do not look at that hideous creature."

His expression instantly shifted, snapping back to that familiar, icy mask. Distant. As if looking at a stranger, an inconvenience.

The moment he turned back to his lover, my hand moved on its own, reaching for the pendant at my throat. It was the Kensington family crest, a howling wolf, my mother's last gift to me. The very same one I had given Auguste as a symbol of my love, which he had later returned with a casual shrug.

It once represented my everything, my heritage, my love, my hope. Now, it was just a cold, cruel joke.

With the last ounce of my strength, I tore the pendant from my neck. The metal chain bit into my skin, leaving a sharp, stinging line. I didn't care.

I squeezed my hand shut. The hard edges of the pendant dug into my palm, a piercing, grounding pain.

A sharp crack echoed in the silent room.

The Kensington wolf shattered in my fist.

But I did not let the darkness take me. The sharp, bloody pain in my palm anchored my fading consciousness, awakening a dormant, ancient power deep within my blood. I refused to die just yet. I refused to let my soul plunge into the abyss before I made them pay for this ultimate betrayal. If they wanted my life, they were going to have to drag me to hell themselves. The true nightmare for them was only just beginning.

Ellery POV:

Blood dripped from my tightly clenched fist, pooling on the white, sterile sheets like scattered rose petals. The sharp crack of the Kensington pendant shattering echoed in the silent, freezing room, followed immediately by another violent, agonizing fit of coughing that tore through my chest.

"My lady!" Rose, my fiercely loyal maid who had been weeping quietly in the corner, screamed in absolute horror.

She threw herself at Auguste's polished boots, sobbing wildly, her trembling hands desperately grasping at the fine fabric of his trousers. "Alpha Sullivan, please! I beg of you, call a pack healer! She is dying, please save her! She has given everything for this pack!"

Auguste looked down at the weeping maid with absolute, chilling indifference. "There is no need," he said flatly, his voice devoid of any warmth, rejecting her desperate pleas without a single second thought. "Her body is failing beyond repair. A healer would only prolong her inevitable suffering. It is kinder this way."

He stepped closer to my bed, looking down at my blood-stained, haggard face. A flicker of hypocritical pity crossed his handsome features, a look that made my stomach churn with violent disgust. He leaned in slightly, his scent of winter pine and Blaire's sickly sweet perfume invading my senses, suffocating me.

"Ellery," he murmured, his voice dripping with a sickening, false sorrow. "I am truly sorry it had to end this way. You were a good Luna. If there is a next life, I swear I will find a way to make it up to you."

Make it up to me?

By using the wealth I bled for to build a happy, perfect life with his mistress? His sheer, shameless hypocrisy was the final, lethal blow. It sickened me to my very core, shattering the very last string holding my spirit to this mortal world.

I refused to die quietly. I gathered the absolute last shred of my fading life force, forcing my heavy, bloodshot eyes to lock onto his. I did not scream. I just bared my blood-stained teeth, my voice a harsh, venomous rasp that scraped through the heavy silence of the room.

"Auguste Sullivan. I do not want your apologies. I will be waiting for you in hell."

With those final, gritted words, my vision went completely black.

The excruciating pain vanished. I was dead. Killed by the venom of their betrayal and his sickening hypocrisy.

But it was not the end. I felt a sudden, strange lightness as my soul separated from my flesh. My spirit drifted upward like smoke, leaving the broken shell of my physical body on the blood-stained bed. Hovering near the ceiling, floating in the frigid air, I was no longer burdened by pain or illness. I was just a soul now, looking down at Auguste and Blaire with the numb detachment of a ghost.

"Auggie, she is finally gone!" Blaire cheered softly. She did not even try to hide her glee. She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, her eyes gleaming with greedy, malicious triumph as she looked at my fresh corpse.

I waited for Auguste to show even a fraction of the sorrow he had just faked. But he did not. A long, profound sigh of relief escaped his lips, as if a heavy, annoying burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He wrapped his strong arms securely around Blaire's waist, pulling her flush against his body, completely unbothered by the fact that his legal wife of five years lay dead just inches away.

His dark eyes, completely devoid of any remorse, swept over my lifeless form with chilling indifference. "Yes," he murmured, pressing a deeply affectionate kiss to the top of Blaire's head. "It is finally over. Tomorrow, we will announce her tragic passing to the pack. And then, Sullivan Manor will officially be ours, my beautiful Luna."

Blaire giggled, a sharp, grating sound that echoed in the deathly quiet room. She stepped out of his embrace just enough to look down at my corpse, her face twisting into a sneer of absolute disgust. She clicked her tongue in mock sympathy. "What a pathetic end for the great Ellery Kensington. Rose, stop your incessant crying and get this mess cleaned up immediately. I want her filthy things burned by morning. The stench of failure and death in this room is making me terribly nauseous."

Rose cried even harder, clutching my cold hand and refusing to move away from my bed. Auguste's expression darkened into a cold, ruthless scowl. He snapped his fingers sharply. "Guards! Take this insubordinate maid to the dungeons. I will not tolerate such annoying wailing on a day of our long-awaited liberation."

Two burly guards stormed into the room, dragging a screaming, thrashing Rose away by her arms. Once the door clicked shut, leaving them completely alone with my corpse, Auguste cupped Blaire's face and captured her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, right in front of my dead, staring eyes.

I hovered above them, watching their sickening display of affection. The sheer, unapologetic cruelty of their actions fueled a fire in my ethereal chest hotter than the sun. My previous hatred multiplied a thousandfold. I did not want his regret or his tears. I wanted to tear them apart piece by piece. I wanted to watch them bleed just as I had bled.

And just as my soul prepared to fade into the endless void, a scorching, blinding heat erupted from the shattered pieces of the Kensington wolf still clutched in my corpse's cold hand.

A violent, invisible force yanked my spirit backward, tearing through the very fabric of time and space. A deep, ancient voice whispered in the boundless dark, sending electrifying shivers through my ethereal form.

"The blood debt is unpaid. The game begins anew."

When I opened my eyes again, the agonizing scent of blood was gone, replaced by the crisp, fresh scent of winter pine. The warmth of a crackling fireplace brushed against my skin. I was no longer lying on my freezing deathbed. The wheel of fate had turned backward, and this time, I would be the one holding the blade. I smiled into the darkness, my eyes flashing with a dangerous, predatory golden light. Let the hunt begin.

Ellery POV:

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat trying to escape my chest.

Sunlight streamed through the window. Birds were singing. It wasn't the hopeless, bitter winter of the vision.

I looked down at my hands. They were pale, slender, and filled with life. Not the withered, branch-like claws of my memory.

Tossing back the covers, I scrambled to the vanity. The girl in the mirror was pale from a fever, yes, but it was my face. My twenty-year-old face. Young. Healthy. Before everything went wrong.

I was back. I had truly come back from that bloody, death-filled vision.

Maids rushed into the room, startled to see me on my feet. "Miss, you've had a fever for three days! The pack physician said you must rest!"

I ignored them, my mind fixed on a single, burning thought. I turned, my voice trembling with a fierce energy but absolutely clear. "Go and tell my father, Alpha Arlington Harrington, that I demand to cancel my 'Mating' ceremony with Auguste Sullivan. Immediately."

The maids stared at each other, their faces a mixture of confusion and fear. They thought I was delirious. "Miss, what are you saying? The emissary from the Sullivan Pack just arrived this morning to finalize the date for the ceremony."

Today?

A cold dread washed over me. The wheels of fate were already turning. I had no time to waste.

"Take me to him," I commanded, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I didn't even bother to change out of my nightgown. I stormed towards my father's study.

Servants stared as I passed, their eyes wide with shock. In their world, I was always the docile, obedient daughter.

I shoved open the heavy oak doors to the study. My father, the Alpha of the Vorrath Pack, sat behind his massive desk, his face etched with annoyance at the interruption.

"Ellery! What is the meaning of this!" he barked, the deep line between his brows, a permanent fixture of his authority, seeming to carve deeper into his forehead.

"Father," I said, meeting his cold gaze without flinching. I repeated my words, slowly and deliberately. "I want to cancel the engagement with Auguste Sullivan."

Arlington stared, dumbfounded. Then, his face contorted with rage. "Nonsense! Do you have any idea what you're saying? This is an alliance between the Harrington and Sullivan Packs! It is the cornerstone of stability in our territory! It is not something you can just cancel on a whim!"

I wanted to throw Blaire Mitchell's name right in his face, to expose Auguste's disgusting infidelity. But I bit my tongue. At this point in the timeline, Blaire's fiancé had only just died. She and Auguste hadn't officially started their sordid affair yet. Furthermore, I was absolutely certain Auguste wouldn't even be attending today's engagement meeting. In my past life, he had skipped this very event, using a flimsy excuse just so he could personally comfort the grieving Blaire.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "An alliance bought by selling your daughter? Father, I will not marry that man."

"You have no right to say no!" Arlington slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the silent room. "Your duty is to obey! For the honor of this pack!"

"My honor does not need to be purchased through a 'Mating' that is destined to destroy me," I shot back, my voice unwavering.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, as if he couldn't comprehend why I would use the word "destroy."

But I offered no explanation. It would be useless. I just watched him, waiting for his verdict.

"You're mad," he finally concluded, his voice turning to ice. "The ceremony will proceed as planned. Now, your only task is to return to your room and reflect on your foolishness and insolence."

He didn't even ask why I was so adamant. In his eyes, I was just a disobedient tool.

I turned and left the study. There was no disappointment, only a chilling certainty. I knew this would be the outcome.

Relying on my father was pointless. I had to rely on myself.

Back in my room, I shut the door, blocking out the world.

My gaze fell on a document lying on my desk. It was the property ledger for my mother's Kensington estate. As the sole heir to the Kensington bloodline, I personally managed several massive private banks under my mother's name.

In the vision, this immense wealth had flowed seamlessly into the Sullivan family's coffers after my Mating, nourishing my enemies.

This time, I would not be so foolish.

I summoned my most trusted handmaid. "Ivy."

Ivy, my loyal Omega maid who had stayed by my side until my dying breath in the vision, stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Miss?"

"Take my signet," I said, pulling the Kensington family ring from my finger. "Go to the Kensington financial steward immediately. Tell him, effective today, to freeze all fund withdrawals made in the name of the Sullivan family from our private banks. Not a single coin is to be moved."

Ivy's eyes widened slightly, but she nodded firmly, rushing out to deliver the blow that would start my war.