Reborn as the Top Alpha’s Beloved Darling

(Seraphina's POV)

The silver blade slid along my cheek, and Grace's hand was steady.

"Hold still, Sera, dear sister." Her tone was gentle, like when she used to coax me while braiding my hair as kids. "If you move, I'll cut crooked."

"No, no..." I shook my head in terror. "Aah!"

She gripped the knife and drew it from my forehead to my jaw. Wolfsbane juice seeped into the wound, like someone was pouring boiling water into my veins.

I screamed wildly, desperately shrinking back. The silver chain locked around my neck immediately tightened—wrists, ankles, throat, every inch where metal touched skin was burning.

Seven days now.

"Why..." I asked. My tongue was swollen, my mouth full of the taste of blood. "Grace, what the fuck did I ever... do to you?"

She tilted her head and studied me, like examining a craft project that hadn't turned out right. Then footsteps came from behind her, and a hand settled on her waist.

Damien.

He stepped out of the shadows, golden-brown hair neatly styled, green eyes carrying a smile—exactly the same as when he'd greet me in the school hallway.

My stomach clenched.

"She's awake?" he said to Grace—not to me. "I figured she'd have passed out by now."

"She can take more of a beating than she looks." Grace set the silver blade on the tray, turned and nestled into Damien's arms, the movement natural, like she'd done it a thousand times.

I stared at them. My brain was sluggish, like the wolfsbane had rotted it through.

"Damien..." My voice was shaking. "You said you'd take me away. You said Caelan Ashworth was a monster, that marrying him would get me killed—"

"Oh, that." He looked down at me—actually looked at me for once. "I lied, sweetheart."

He smiled.

"Ashworth isn't that scary. The rumors about him being cursed were someone else's doing—nothing much to do with the man himself. We tricked you into running from the marriage... how should I put it." He shrugged. "You don't deserve him."

Grace picked up where he left off, her voice suddenly turning sharp: "Caelan Ashworth—the top Alpha in the West, the most powerful man there is—why should his mate be you? What even are you? Just some newly awakened ordinary wolf!"

She spun around, silver blade raised again. The tip pointed at my abdomen.

"There must be something wrong with your body." She was panting, eyes red. "Something that hooked him. I'm going to open you up and find out."

"Grace—" Damien caught her hand. Not to protect me. To calm her down.

"Easy." He kissed Grace's temple, then turned his head toward me. "Doesn't matter anyway. Three days ago, your precious Alpha charged into Cross territory alone to save you."

My breathing stopped.

"Silver bullet, straight through the heart." Damien tapped his index finger against his own left chest. "Dead on the spot. My dad said he was still calling your name right before he died."

He made a face of regret.

"Really touching. You two never even met, right?"

Time seemed to stop.

I could hear water dripping from a pipe. Hear Grace and Damien saying something, their voices fading in and out. Hear the sound of my own blood dripping down the silver chains.

But none of it mattered anymore.

A man I'd never met. Never caught his scent. Never touched his hand.

He went to die for me.

And I didn't even know what color his eyes were.

Grace said something. The cold of the silver blade pressed against my chest, right over my heart.

I didn't look down.

Moonlight leaked through the only gap in the basement window, a thin sliver, falling across my forearm.

Please.

I didn't know who I was talking to. The Moon Goddess. Fate. Anything that was listening.

Let me go back.

Let me change all of this.

The silver blade drove in.

The crescent-moon birthmark behind my ear blazed to life, fiercer than the silver chain burns, pain so intense I saw white light—

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Chapter 1 (Seraphina's POV)

"Sera! Sera, wake up!"

Someone was shaking me.

I snapped my eyes open, my whole body convulsing, gasping for air. My fingers clawed frantically at my chest—no blade. No blood. No silver chains.

My skin was intact. Clean. Warm.

"Oh my God, you scared me to death!" Grace knelt beside my bed, face streaked with tears, both hands gripping my wrists tight. "You were having a nightmare, you're soaked in sweat—"

My bedroom. My bed. Morning light outside the window.

"Listen to me," Grace whispered, eyes brimming with tears, "Damien's already waiting for you outside. Go, now, before Dad finds out. Don't actually marry that monster, Sera, please—"

She was crying. Crying so prettily, so earnestly.

The same face as the one holding a silver blade to my heart seven days ago—no, minutes ago.

My mind went blank.

"Move it!" Ember's voice exploded from deep in my chest. "Stop spacing out! Go find him! Find our mate! Now!"

I wrenched my hands free from Grace's grip.

She rocked backward, her expression cracking for one second—too brief. If I were still the idiot from my past life, I never would have caught it.

"Sera?"

I jumped out of bed barefoot and bolted from the room.

Hallway, stairs, first-floor foyer—Dad's study.

When I slammed the door open, three people were inside: my dad, my stepmother Margot, and a stranger in a crisp suit with the Ashworth family crest tattooed on his neck.

Two of them turned to look at me at the same time.

"Sera?" My father stood up. "How did you—"

"I'll marry him." I was gasping, chest heaving. "Caelan Ashworth. I'm going today."

My dad's eyes went wide with shock.

The man in the suit raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over me—nightgown, bare feet, hair a tangled mess over my shoulders. But he didn't look amused. He just gave a slight nod.

"I'm Kieran, Beta of the Ashworth Pack. I'm here to escort you." He paused. "If you're ready, we can leave now."

"She's not ready!" Grace burst in, voice shrill enough to cut glass. "Dad, you can't let her go! It's a death sentence!"

My father looked at me, then at Grace, that familiar indecisive expression spreading across his face. He was always like this—whoever yelled loudest won.

I turned to face Grace.

"A death sentence?" I locked eyes with her. "How would you know that? Have you met him? Or have you married him yourself?"

Grace's face went white. "I... I heard it from other people! He..."

"Are you me?" I cut her off. "Do you know what's going to happen to me?"

Her mouth opened and closed. Nothing came out.

I stepped closer, lowered my voice so only the two of us could hear.

"Or are you afraid that after I marry him, I'll find out you've been lying to me?"

Grace's pupils contracted.

I stepped back and turned to Kieran. "Give me ten minutes to change."

The Ashworth main house was in the city center. The drive took four hours. I didn't say a word the entire way, nails digging into my palms, telling myself over and over that this was real.

The car stopped in front of iron gates. The house was massive, like a fortress.

My legs were a little weak when I got out.

Two Omega maids were mopping the floor in the entrance hall. As I passed, their whispers drilled right into my ears.

"Another one? How many is this now?"

"The fourth. This girl looks like she just came of age. People really will do anything for money."

"The first three—one died, one went crazy, one just vanished—and she still dares to come."

My hands were shaking.

I knew those deaths weren't his doing. In my past life, Grace herself had said the rumors were someone else's work.

But my hands were still shaking.

"What are you being a coward for?" Ember growled. "He's ours. Go!"

Beta Kieran led me through a corridor and stopped before a dark wooden door. He knocked twice and pushed it open.

The study was large. Dark. The curtains were only half drawn.

Then his scent hit me.

Pine. Cold iron. That heavy, suffocating air right before a thunderstorm.

Ember let out an excited howl inside my chest.

He stood by the window, back to me.

Tall, broad shoulders. A black shirt traced the lines of his back muscles, waist tapering narrow. One hand tucked in his pocket, head tilted slightly, like he was listening to something.

He heard the sound and turned around.

Light came from behind him, gilding his outline. I couldn't see his face clearly—just a pair of eyes. Gray-blue, like the surface of a frozen lake.

I suddenly wanted to cry.

"...This is the Wren girl?" he spoke. His voice was low, deep, like stone grinding over gravel.

I didn't make a sound. My throat was too tight to get any words out.

He looked at my red-rimmed eyes, was silent for two seconds, and said to Kieran:

"Send her back."

My body went rigid.

"Alpha—" Kieran hesitated.

"She's shaking." His tone was flat. "Send this girl home. She needs her family."

A maid was already walking over, reaching for my arm.

I shook her off.

His gaze fell back on me.

I took a step forward. My legs were still trembling, but I forced myself to stand straight and look up into his eyes.

He was so much taller than me that I had to crane my neck. But I didn't step back.

"I wasn't forced to come here." My voice was steadier than I expected. "I came because I wanted to."

"I'm here because I want to be."

Silence.

Someone outside the study drew a sharp breath.

"I want to stay," I said. My heartbeat was hammering so hard it felt like it would leap out of my throat. Ember was howling like crazy inside me—I wasn't sure if he could sense it. "I want to be your Luna."

Someone laughed.

It was one of the maids outside the door. Quiet, but crystal clear in this silent room—a scoff.

My face burned.

Fine. I knew how ridiculous this sounded. An eighteen-year-old, freshly awakened girl, standing in front of the most powerful Alpha in the West and saying "I want to be your Luna."

But if you count the eighteen years from my past life, I'm actually older than him... I muttered to myself.

"...Who exactly are you comparing yourself to, you idiot?" Ember said.

I bit my lip to keep my expression from crumbling.

He kept watching me. Something shifted in those gray-blue eyes—too quick for me to catch.

Then he released his aura.

I instinctively closed my eyes and held my breath.

The force swept gently past me—and slammed straight into the maid who had laughed. I heard her knees hit the floor, like an invisible hand had pressed her down.

The air in the study turned crushingly heavy.

He took one step forward. Just one, but the distance closed far too much.

I caught a stronger wave of pine. And something else—the warmth beneath his skin.

He looked down at me and finally spoke.