Blessed by the Blood Moon

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

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Sheila's POV

"Damian, how could you...? I stuttered, unable to form a complete word. I was shocked, refusing to believe what was just happening. I wished it was a dream, but the sharp pain from my abdomen reminded me I wasn't dreaming.

"How could I? You think I can keep something as cursed as you around me? Even the moon goddess will reject you. I no longer have any need for you, so you can go ahead and die," Damian said with a straight face. There was no emotion on his handsome face.

"After everything I did for you, Damian, I have been using my powers to aid your pack all this while. I have sacrificed a lot for your sake. How could you? I even used my life essence to bring you back from your half-dead state. What haven't I done for you?" I cried out in pain. My emotion was a mess; I couldn't tell what I was feeling now.

Damian looked at me the same way he used to, his charming smile and his eyes filled with love. "I will tell you the truth since you are going to die anyway. I would have killed you long ago if you hadn't been useful to me. I do love you, Sheila, but the prophecy... you know about the prophecy."

"What do you mean? I thought you didn't believe in the prophecy?"

Damian looked at me mockingly. "Only a fool will dare not believe in the words of the old witch of Verdia, and I'm no fool. I needed your help in conquering the enemy pack; that was why you were left to live in the first place. Now you have no use; keeping you is no different from committing suicide."

He pulled out the dagger and released my shoulder, letting my body hit the ground with no support. He looked at me coldly, wiping his dagger with a rag.

"In your next life, try to be normal," he said coldly.

I lay there helpless and cold, my eyes blurring, and I could only see his backside getting farther and farther away.

The night was cold, I thought. I could feel the cold hand of death; my mind was blurring. I knew this is where my journey ends. If only I was given a second chance.

******************************************

I woke up with a groggy headache, wondering what was happening. "Am I not dead?" I wondered while trying to sit up.

I tried to open my eyes then "pah!" I was slapped on my cheek, and I felt a stinging pain on my cheek. The force from the slap threw me on the floor.

My eyes were forced open this time, and I saw who slapped me. It was Stella. She was sneering at me and looked like she was about to attack again.

"Why does this scene look too familiar?" I questioned myself, unable to comprehend the answer. I remembered dying in the forest; I subconsciously touched my abdomen, and there was no wound.

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