Rejected by My Conquered Alpha

Seraphina's POV

EXCRUCIATING PAIN!

I bolted upright, gasping for breath. The blood moon cast eerie red light through the windows, illuminating the familiar carved bed and silk curtains—my palace!

This couldn't be possible... I had died on the empire's final night, died in Lysander's arms.

"What's happening..."

I stared at my reflection with trembling hands. A twenty-five-year-old face, black hair cascading like a waterfall. I had been reborn, returned to three years ago!

My inner wolf whimpered uneasily.

You're awake, Seraphina.

An ancient, majestic voice echoed in my mind.

"Moon Goddess..." My voice trembled. "Did you bring me back?"

Your previous life's merit earned this chance. Within seven nights of the blood moon cycle, fulfill Lysander's three regrets, or he will still die at thirty. But the price is steep—with each regret you resolve, part of your ancient power will disappear.

I closed my eyes as memories flooded back—the empire's fall, enemy invasion, and his final words: "If only I had never met you..."

I knew the three regrets: being forcibly bonded by me, his homeland being conquered, and—failing to save Delphine.

"What happens after I complete them all?"

You will vanish completely.

BANG!

The door exploded open, icy presence flooding the room. My heart nearly stopped.

Lysander stormed in like a wild beast, grabbed my throat, and slammed me onto the bed!

"What the FUCK are you waiting for?!" He glared down at me, fingers tightening. "The full moon rose two hours ago! Delphine is waiting!"

I couldn't breathe, clawing at his wrist. Too tight! But seeing him alive before me made my heart race—not from fear, but from the pure joy of seeing him again.

"Ly...sander..." I managed to gasp.

"Shut up!" He released me, and I crashed back onto the bed, coughing. "Do I have to drag you every single time, you murderer!"

Murderer.

That night three years ago flashed before my eyes. Late at night, I'd heard footsteps outside my chambers. As the ruler who had just conquered the Silver Moon pack, I was constantly on guard against assassins and rebels.

A shadow crept through the door. Without hesitation, I lunged forward, my sharp claws tearing through the intruder's throat.

Only when the metallic scent of blood filled the air did I see that familiar face—Delphine!

She stared at me with wide eyes, blood pouring from her wound. When Lysander rushed in and held her, she used her last breath to whisper: "I just... wanted to see him... missed him so much..."

She had only been missing him, wanting to secretly glimpse her imprisoned lover. And I, in my paranoia and cruelty, had killed a woman whose only crime was love.

"I didn't know it was her!" I rubbed my reddened throat, voice hoarse. "I thought she was an assassin—"

"An assassin?" He laughed coldly, suddenly grabbing my hair and dragging me off the bed. "She was just a defenseless omega! What other excuses do you have?"

The pain felt like my scalp was tearing, but I didn't resist. I had tried explaining countless times, but he never believed me.

In his eyes, I was the cold-blooded killer who had deliberately murdered Delphine.

"I really thought—"

"Thought what?" He dragged me by my hair toward the door. "Thought killing her would make me yours? You psychotic bitch!"

"No!" I stumbled to keep up with his pace. "I never wanted to kill her!"

"ENOUGH!" He stopped, hatred blazing in his eyes. "Three years! And you're still lying!"

"I won't explain anymore." My voice was bitter. "Just take me to see her."

He froze, confusion flickering in his eyes before turning cold again.

The crypt lay in the palace's deepest depths, perpetually sunless and cold as a tomb. Lysander shoved me forward roughly. At the iron door, I stopped.

"What? Scared now?" He sneered. "Afraid now? Where was that fear when you killed her?"

"It's not fear." I stared at the door. "It's guilt."

He went still.

"Every time I come here, I think about that night. If only I had looked first before attacking..." My voice trembled. "She just wanted to see you one last time."

Lysander's expression darkened further. "What's the point of saying this now? She's DEAD! Dead by your hand!"

He pushed open the door. The familiar scene greeted me—Delphine lay peacefully in her crystal coffin, claw marks still visible on her throat.

"Look at her..." Lysander's voice suddenly turned gentle as he caressed the coffin's edge. "She just wanted to see me one final time. That's all."

The next second, he whirled around, glaring at me with fury that could consume everything. "But you DESTROYED her hope! Killed her!"

My heart shattered into thousands of pieces, each one bleeding.

"Begin." He returned to the coffin's side, voice ice-cold. "Remember, this is what you owe her."

I approached and extended my pale wrist. Without hesitation, he sliced open my skin. Blood immediately flowed out, dripping onto her face.

My ancient bloodline began draining away, soul-deep agony tearing through me. I bit down hard, suppressing the urge to scream.

"Does it hurt?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes." I answered honestly.

"Good." He smiled coldly. "It hurt her more when you tore open her throat."

"More." His voice was frigid, never once looking at me. "She needs more blood."

Blood flowed like water. I felt life rapidly leaving me. My hair began turning white from the roots—a sign of bloodline depletion.

I watched her eyelids flutter slightly, saw color return to her pale face. My blood, my life, slowly awakening this dead woman.

And him—he watched her with the most tender gaze.

"Is that enough?" I asked weakly.

He finally glanced at me, eyes filled with naked disgust. "Never enough for her. Never enough for you either."

I nodded, slowly withdrawing my hand. Blood continued dripping, forming a red pool on the ground.

"Lysander." I called softly.

"What?"

"If I disappeared one day, would you miss me?"

His body trembled, then he turned away even more coldly. "I'd throw a party to celebrate."

I smiled bitterly. My inner wolf sensed the despair and let out a mournful howl.

Seven days. I only had seven days.

Seven days later, when I completed the final regret and resurrected his beloved woman, he would learn the truth.

But by then, I would be gone. Completely.