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After my rebirth, I tore up my acceptance letter to Silver Claw Warrior Academy, the most elite warrior training school in the werewolf world. I also rejected the dramatic confessions from the two Alpha heirs I’d grown up with. Because in my previous life, I chose Damien Ashbourne. He was the heir to the Ashbourne Pack. But on the day of our official Marking Ceremony, he abandoned me in front of the entire upper circle of werewolf society for Cordelia Wren. The shock was too much for my grandmother. Her aging wolf soul withered, and she died right there at the ceremony. In my despair, my other childhood friend, Lucian Vandermere, took my hand. "Lyra, I'm here," he said, his voice hoarse. "I swear to the Moon Goddess, I'll never treat you the way he did." He did help me through the humiliation. He even formed a mate bond with me in front of everyone. But after we married, he was cold and distant. I thought it was because we never had children. Until I was dying, trapped inside a mangled car, and he stepped right past me to save Cordelia—who only had a few scratches. I died there. It wasn't until my soul drifted free of my body that I learned the truth: my entire life had been a performance, staged by the three of them. They’d already written their wills, leaving everything to Cordelia. And my infertility was never the Moon Goddess's will. When I suffered an ectopic pregnancy and was bleeding out, my bonded mate Lucian and my childhood medical proxy Damien, ordered the pack medical team to forgo conservative treatment and remove my fallopian tubes. All because they were in a rush to get to Cordelia's birthday party. They stole my last chance to ever carry pups. After that, my wolf, Frost, retreated to the deepest part of my soul. For a long time, she wouldn't answer my calls beneath the full moon. This time, I would stay far away from them. This time, I would live for myself. ... When the college counselor saw me tear up my Silverclaw acceptance let
