Chapter 2: Ashes and Second Chances

Isabella’s POV

"Someone... anyone... please, save me..."

My voice was barely a whisper, swallowed by the crackling roar of the flames consuming everything around me. Smoke stung my eyes, and the suffocating heat pressed down on me like an iron shroud. I clung desperately to a sliver of hope, even as my mind told me that no one would come. James’ betrayal had sliced through me like a blade, sharp and merciless, leaving behind nothing but raw, gaping wounds.

The world seemed to blur, spinning wildly as my body fought against the chains that bound me. My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the memory of my mother. I could see her so clearly, lying frail and pale on her deathbed, her trembling hand clutching mine. Her voice, though weak, had been fierce with emotion as she made me promise to survive no matter what.

“Live, Isabella. Promise me you’ll keep living.”

The memory was a knife twisting in my chest. I had failed her. I hadn’t kept my promise. Worse still, I hadn’t saved my father.

And for what? For a dream? A fantasy that I could escape Ethan, that I could find freedom and happiness with James? My foolishness had cost me everything. If I hadn’t tried to run, if I hadn’t trusted James so blindly, would things have been different? Would my family still be alive?

But regret was a cruel companion, offering no solace and no salvation. The flames crept closer, their hungry heat licking at my skin. My breath hitched as the air grew thinner, each inhale a struggle.

I squeezed my eyes shut, surrendering to the inevitable. “I’m sorry, Mother. I tried...”

"Isabella!"

The voice was sudden and sharp, cutting through the haze like a lightning strike. My eyes flew open, my heart pounding. Was this real? Or just another cruel trick of my mind in these final moments?

"Isabella!"

The voice came again, louder and more desperate. And then, with a deafening crash, the locked door burst open. A figure stood silhouetted against the inferno, their presence as shocking as the firestorm raging around me.

"Ethan...?"

I blinked, my vision swimming. It couldn’t be. Not him. Yet there he was, my husband—or at least the man who wore that title. Ethan, the one I had hated with every fiber of my being, now stood before me like some kind of dark savior.

"Are you hurt?"

His voice was rough, edged with urgency. He moved toward me with a speed that belied the chaos around us. His sharp eyes took in my battered form, the chains that held me, the burns and bruises marking my skin. Fury flashed across his face, turning his usual cold expression into something feral.

"How dare he..." Ethan growled, his words laced with venom.

Without hesitation, he shrugged off his coat, draping it over my shoulders with surprising gentleness. The damp fabric shielded me from the worst of the heat, a brief reprieve that felt almost surreal.

"Ethan, why...?" My voice cracked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead working to free me from the chains. His hands, raw and blistered, trembled as he pried the metal apart. Finally, he looked at me, his gaze piercing.

"Because you’re my wife," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

The words hit me like a blow. Wife. The title felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of the contract that had bound us together, a union born of necessity and control rather than love. I had always believed that to him, I was nothing more than a possession, a tool to be used and discarded.

So why was he here now, risking everything to save me?

Ethan didn’t give me time to dwell on it. He scooped me into his arms, cradling me as if I were something precious. I could feel the strength in his grip, the determination in the way he moved. He was injured—his hands and arms bore burns, and his movements were slower than usual—but he pressed on without hesitation.

The fire roared around us, and I watched helplessly as a beam above us cracked and began to fall.

"Watch out!" I screamed, panic tightening my throat.

Ethan reacted instantly, dodging the falling debris with a speed that defied logic. But the beam still grazed him, leaving a deep gash along his shoulder. Blood seeped through his shirt, the crimson stark against the ash and soot.

"You’re hurt!" I cried, my voice thick with guilt and fear.

"It’s nothing," he muttered, his focus fixed on finding a way out.

But the path ahead was blocked, flames devouring everything in their path. My heart sank as I realized the full extent of our predicament.

"Put me down," I said, my voice trembling. "You can shift into your wolf form and escape. Don’t let me drag you down."

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.

"Ethan," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "Please. I know I shouldn’t have trusted James, but I was so tired. Tired of everything. Tired of this life. I just wanted... to feel free."

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the soot. "I hated you," I admitted, the words spilling out like poison. "I hated you for tying me to this life, for taking away my choices. I hated myself for being too weak to fight back."

Ethan’s silence was deafening. His grip on me tightened, his arms trembling with the weight of my words.

"Let me go," I begged. "Save yourself. Just promise me one thing—protect my father. That’s all I ask."

I closed my eyes, the last of my strength ebbing away. But Ethan’s voice, fierce and unyielding, pulled me back.

"I’m not leaving you," he growled. "Not now. Not ever."

Before I could protest, he charged forward, his body a shield against the inferno. He slammed into the debris blocking our path, using his own weight to force it aside.

Each impact left him bleeding and burned, but he didn’t stop. Again and again, he struck, his determination unshaken. Finally, with one last push, he broke through, creating a narrow gap.

"We’re almost there," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

But as we neared the exit, the building began to collapse. Another beam fell, this one larger and faster. Ethan had no time to react.

"No!" I screamed as the beam struck him, knocking us both to the ground.

Ethan shielded me with his body, his arms wrapping around me protectively. Pain contorted his features, but he refused to let go.

"Isabella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I’m sorry."

A single tear slid down his cheek, falling onto mine. It burned hotter than the fire around us, a searing reminder of everything I had misunderstood about this man.

"Moon Goddess..." I prayed silently, desperation clawing at me. "If you can hear me, please... take me back. Let me change this. Let me save him."

A voice, soft and distant, echoed in the depths of my mind.

"I can grant your wish. But what will you offer in return?"

"Take everything," I answered without hesitation. "Take it all."

The voice faded, replaced by darkness. As my consciousness slipped away, I heard it one last time.

"Deal."

——————

I don’t know how much time had passed when I jolted upright, gasping for air as though I had just broken free from suffocating depths. My fingers twisted into the sweat-drenched sheets beneath me, trembling as I struggled to steady my breath. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, a deafening rhythm that seemed to silence everything else around me.

Where was I?

I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the room around me. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated familiar surroundings—my bedroom. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, the one I always used to calm myself. Everything seemed normal, yet the panic clawing at my chest refused to subside.

Was it a dream?

The thought drifted through my mind, hesitant and uncertain. But if it was a dream, it had been too vivid, too real. I could still feel the heat of the flames licking at my skin, the suffocating smoke burning my lungs, the crushing weight of despair as I faced death. My hands trembled as I glanced down at them, half-expecting to see burns marring my skin.

But there was nothing.

Not a single mark.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, startling me. My head snapped up, and my breath hitched as a figure stepped out, still damp from a shower. He wore a dark robe, the tie hanging loose around his waist. Droplets of water clung to his tousled hair, catching the light as they rolled down his neck.

“Ethan?”

I whispered his name, my voice barely audible, but it was enough to catch his attention. His eyes met mine, and his brow furrowed in mild irritation.

“What’s wrong with you?” His tone was clipped, distant, as though my distress was little more than an inconvenience.

I stared at him, my mind struggling to reconcile what I saw with what I knew—or thought I knew. He was supposed to be dead. I’d watched him collapse in the fire, his body shielding mine even as the flames closed in around us. That image had been burned into my memory, a haunting reminder of the price he paid to save me.

But here he was, alive, standing before me as though nothing had happened.

“You... you’re alive?” The words stumbled out of my mouth, unsteady and unsure.

Ethan’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as a storm brewed in his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His voice turned sharp, the edge of his anger cutting through the air. “Are you that eager for me to die?”

“No, I—” I began, but the words caught in my throat.

His glare pinned me in place, a cold and unforgiving force. “If that’s what you’re hoping for, sorry to disappoint you.”

I flinched at the bitterness in his tone, the weight of his accusation pressing down on me. “That’s not what I meant,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan exhaled sharply, the sound laced with frustration. He paced to the window, staring out at the darkened skyline as if seeking refuge from his own emotions. After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice forced into an icy calm.

“I know ripping up that letter from James wasn’t the right thing to do,” he said, his words deliberate, measured. “But don’t forget—you’re my wife. That comes with responsibilities, obligations.”

“What... letter?” I asked, the confusion in my voice genuine.

Ethan turned to face me, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t play dumb, Isabella. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond before striding out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that left me feeling unmoored.

I sat frozen in place, his words echoing in my mind. A letter? From James? My thoughts churned, dragging me backward through a haze of fragmented memories.

And then it came rushing back.

A year ago. James had just returned from overseas and sent me a letter through a mutual acquaintance. I’d barely had a chance to read it before Ethan found it. He’d torn it to pieces in a fit of rage, his fury igniting an argument that had left both of us raw and embittered. I’d felt trapped, stifled by Ethan’s overbearing presence, and in defiance, I’d drawn closer to James. It was a decision fueled by spite, one I hadn’t realized would set off a chain of events leading to...

The fire.

A shiver ran through me, cold and relentless, as the memories of that night flooded back—the heat, the smoke, Ethan’s broken body shielding mine. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but the terror clung to me, refusing to let go.

I needed to ground myself, to remind myself of where I was. My gaze fell on the bedside clock, its digital numbers glowing softly in the dim light.

October 22, 2023.

I frowned, my heart skipping a beat. That couldn’t be right.

The fire had happened on October 22, 2024—a year from now.

Panic clawed at my chest as I grabbed my phone, frantically scrolling through messages, photos, anything that could confirm the date. Every notification, every calendar entry, every piece of evidence pointed to the same conclusion.

2023.

“No...” I whispered, my voice trembling. “This can’t be real.”

But soon, another unsettling realization struck me—I couldn’t feel my wolf anymore. She had always been distant, rarely answering my calls, but now it was as if she had never existed within me at all. Her presence was utterly gone, leaving a void so profound it chilled me to my core.

“Is this the price I have to pay?” I murmured, my gaze drifting toward the moon outside the window. My fingers curled into fists, trembling slightly as I tried to process the enormity of what this meant.

“If... if this isn’t just a dream,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Then perhaps... perhaps this is my chance to change everything.