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I Killed Myself, but I Did Not Die Novel Cover

I Killed Myself, but I Did Not Die

After a decade of devotion, the protagonist finally earns a blood bond with Edward Lightwood. However, their union turns into a nightmare when Edward’s former flame is killed. Blaming his new partner, he subjects her to brutal torture involving sunlight and wooden stakes. Driven to despair, she takes her own life, yet miraculously awakens on the day of her initial confession. Now granted a second chance in this fantasy romance, she vows to escape Edward’s influence and rewrite her future.
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Chapter 2

The fact that everyone was busy congratulating Edward, made it easier for me to sneak out quietly.

A taxi was already waiting to take me to the Mortal zone.

My suitcases felt lighter than they ever had, the weight of ten years of pathetic devotion had been burned away with that letter.

But as I rounded the corner near the grand staircase, the air grew thick with the cloying scent of lilies and expensive perfume I knew who wore them.

"Going somewhere, Sonya?"

The voice was like a whip. I froze. Edward stood there, his high-collared formal coat draped perfectly over his shoulders. Tucked under his arm was Beth. In this light, she looked like a porcelain doll—pale, fragile, and utterly lethal.

"I thought I made myself clear in the text," Edward sneered, his eyes dropping to the luggage in my hands. "I told you to stay in your room. I didn't say you could drag your filth through the main hall while my guests are still here."

"I'm following your instructions, Edward," I said, my voice steady, devoid of the desperate tremor that used to define me. "You said sharing a roof with me was humiliating. I’m simply removing the humiliation."

A flicker of something like surprise passed through Edward's eyes. But, before he could speak, Beth walked up, saying in a honey-laced tone, "Sonya, why must you make everything difficult for Edward?"

"Leaving his house and then go back to his parents to be a crybaby, only to make his relationship with his parents worst than it already is?"

"Why can't you leave this family in peace?"

She stepped forward, her silk dress rustling like a snake in the grass. "Or is this your new tactic? Do you think if you pretend to leave, Edward will suddenly realize he can't live without his shadow?"

"It’s pathetic," Edward added, his lip curling. "You’ve chased me for a decade. We all know those bags are probably filled with my old shirts you’ve stolen. Drop the act, Sonya. Go back to your room, lock the door, and stay there until I decide what to do with you."

Edward's words cut deep through my heart. He was right. I was like that in the past, collecting trash and garbages that Edward used in his daily necessities like they were treasures, a kind of devotion I believed that time.

But, not anymore.

"It's not an act," I said, meeting his gaze. For the first time, I didn't flinch. "I'm leaving. Permanently. You can have the house, the title, and the silence you've always asked for."

I tried to move past them, but Beth blocked my path. Her eyes flashed with a cruel spark. But, her voice was laced with feign concern,

"I can't let you go and create misunderstandings between Edward and his parents. I don't want him disturbed because of you, Sonya." Beth hissed. She reached out, her sharp, manicured nails digging into my forearm, trying to snatch my suitcase.

"Let go, Beth," I warned.

"Make me, you low-born—" she hissed.

As I jerked my arm back to reclaim my luggage, Beth’s eyes widened. With the calculated move in her mind, she didn't fight for balance. Instead, she let her grip loosen and threw herself backward.

She hit the marble floor with a sickening thud, her silk gown billowing around her like a broken flower.

"Beth!" Edward roared.

He was at her side in a blur of motion, gathering her into his arms. Beth let out a small, pained whimper, clutching her ankle, her eyes brimming with unshed, manipulative tears.

"My ankle... Edward, it hurts," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "I just wanted to tell her not to be impulsive... why did she push me so hard?"

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