In my first life, I married the Alpha Heir everyone envied, while my sister ended up with a penniless, packless Rogue.
She hated me for three years.
Right before she drove a blade through my heart, she screamed that if she had married Dorian, my life should have been hers.
What she never knew was that my “perfect” marriage had been nothing but a beautiful cage.
When I opened my eyes again, we had both returned to the day we chose our husbands.
This time, my sister stole Dorian without hesitation—and left me the Rogue she had despised in our previous life.
She thought she had finally won.
So when everyone laughed at me for choosing a poor, packless Rogue, I simply took his hand.
Then came our wedding day.
Royal Guards filled the street on their knees. Every Alpha bowed his head. And the High Moon Priest knelt before my husband.
“Your Majesty.”
That was when I finally learned the truth.
The man my sister had fought so hard to throw away was the Wolf King.
