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The Villainess Will Not Be Eclipsed Again Novel Cover

The Villainess Will Not Be Eclipsed Again

Leah Bellmoore was nineteen when she died—executed as a villainess for crimes she never committed. Her mate rejected her, her family turned against her, and her best friend wielded the blade, while Willow Rosante claimed the life that should have been hers. Then Leah wakes one year in the past. Her memories are fractured, yet the pieces reveal a truth she cannot ignore: her death was no accident. This time, she refuses to beg for forgiveness or chase anyone's love. She will uncover Willow's secrets, expose those who destroyed her, and rewrite the fate that once ended in flames. But fate has shifted too—the four most powerful young wolves at Eclipse Academy are starting to see the girl behind the villainess mask, and Leah may finally be the one choosing who wins her heart.
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Chapter 1

LEAH'S POV 

The smell of burning flesh still fills my nose. 

The blistering heat of the barn fire, the choking smoke filling my lungs, the faint sounds from the end of the year ball-it is all I can feel. 

I can still hear the crackle of the flames as the roof collapsed over my head, burning away the girl who tried so hard to be good.

Then, I gasp.

Cold, crisp air rushes into my lungs, burning my chest in a completely different way.

My eyes snap open. The blinding light of the afternoon sun hits my face, making me blink hard. I'm not lying in ash. I'm not trapped under burning wooden beams.

I'm standing on solid, cool concrete.

My hands fly up to my face. I touch my cheeks, my forehead, my lips. My skin is smooth. No blisters. No charred flesh. No peeling skin. 

I look down at my hands. They are whole, pale, and completely unburned.

What... What is happening? Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?

"Get out of the way, Leah," a sharp, familiar voice barks from beside me.

I flinch hard, my heart hammering in my chest like a trapped bird.

A heavy hand shoves my shoulder, pushing me a step forward. I stumble, my boots scraping against the paved driveway, and turn my head slowly to look at the man who just touched me.

It's Leonardo. My brother-or the man I spent eighteen years calling my brother. He wears his neat warrior uniform, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with a look of pure annoyance. 

He looks at me like I'm something dirty stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Move your feet," Leonardo grunts, slamming the car door behind us with a loud bang that echoes through my chest. "Father and Alpha Everest are already inside waiting for dinner. We don't have time for you to stand around staring into space."

I stare at him, my brain spinning out of control. Dinner? What dinner?

I look around me, gasping for air as panic tightly clutches my throat.

I'm standing in the wide driveway of the Alpha's mansion. The grand stone building rises high into the sky, surrounded by tall iron gates. Parked along the driveway are three large, sleek pack vehicles, their engines ticking as they cool down. 

My mind whirls, trying to put the pieces together through the fog of my violent death.

I know this day.

This is not the day Willow first arrived at our house on my seventeenth birthday. That was a whole year ago. I have already lived through twelve long, unbearable months of torture in that pack, treated like a villainess and pushed into that drafty attic room.

This is the week before we leave for Eclipse Academy. The night Alpha Everest summoned the Rosante family for a celebratory family dinner.

I regressed.

The realization hits me like a physical blow. I didn't die in that fire. The universe threw me backward in time, dropping me right into the nightmare of my eighteen-year-old life.

A cold, dizzying wave of confusion washes over me. My knees tremble, and I have to grip the cool metal of the car door to keep from falling. Just moments ago, I was choking on smoke, watching my flesh melt then turn to ash. 

Now I'm dressed in a formal dress, expected to sit down and eat dinner with my executioners?

"Are you deaf, Leah?" Leonardo snaps, turning to glare at me. "I said move."

I force my trembling hands to let go of the car. I take a deep, shaky breath, filling my lungs with the fresh air I thought I would never taste again. The panic in my chest slowly hardens into something cold and dangerous.

"I'm moving," I whisper. My voice sounds raspy, like I really did just swallow smoke.

"Then walk faster," he grunts, walking past me up the wide stone steps.

I follow him, my boots clicking against the stone floor. Every step feels surreal. I touch my chest again, feeling the steady beat of my heart under my sweater. I'm alive. I'm really alive.

Leonardo opens the heavy oak front doors and steps inside first. I follow him into the grand entrance hall.

The mansion is silent and suffocatingly grand. Tall marble pillars reach up toward high ceilings, and expensive pack banners hang along the dark wood walls. Sitting on the leather couches in the center of the living room are four people.

Alpha Everest sits in the main armchair, his heavy posture radiating authority. Sitting on the couch beside him is his son, Asher Lockwood.

And sitting across from them, looking fragile, sweet, and helpless, is Willow.

Father-Augustine Rosante-stands behind Willow's couch, his thick arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set in a hard line.

The moment the heavy door clicks shut behind us, Asher's golden-brown eyes lock onto mine, instantly filling with deep disgust. "Look who finally decided to walk in," he sneers, his voice dripping with arrogance. "She doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed."

In my first life, those words made me look at the floor in shame. Today, looking at Asher-the boy who stood dancing around in the ballroom while I burned to death-a wave of pure revulsion twists in my stomach.

"Silence, Asher," Alpha Everest commands, holding up a large hand. The Alpha turns his sharp grey eyes onto me. "Leah. Sit down."

I walk into the room, my legs feeling like lead, and take a seat on the single wooden chair at the edge of the table-far away from the family.

Willow lets out a tiny, soft sigh, leaning back into Father's side. Father immediately drops a heavy, protective hand onto her shoulder, shooting me a glare so venomous it could kill a weaker wolf.

"Look at her," Father growls, his voice low with disgust. "Standing there while Clara's blood runs thick in her veins. A whole year of living in my house, and she still carries herself like she did nothing wrong."

"Father, please," Willow whispers softly, her eyes brimming with big, shining tears. "Don't be too harsh on her... She cannot help who her mother was."

It's the same game she's played for a whole year. She acts like a gentle angel while reminding everyone in the room that my mother was a traitor.

Alpha Everest sighs, leaning back in his chair. "We are here tonight to discuss tomorrow's departure for Eclipse Academy. The law requires every applicant admitted to attend, but make no mistake, Leah. You're going to Eclipse under probation. You are a Bellmoore now. You will not embarrass this pack."

"She will spend her time at Eclipse out of our sight," Asher adds sharply, glaring at me. "I will make sure of it personally."

I sit in my chair, staring at their faces. The confusion in my mind slowly settles, leaving behind a razor-sharp clarity.

They hated me for a year. They treated me like a monster. And in the end, they burned me alive.

"Did you hear my son, Leah?" Alpha Everest demands, his voice rising. "Or have you lost your mind entirely?"

I look Alpha Everest dead in the eye. I don't cringe. I don't look down at my hands.

"I heard him fine, Alpha," I say, my voice steady and cold as ice. "I will keep out of your sight. You have my word."

Asher narrows his eyes, clearly caught off guard by how flat and unbothered I sound. He expected me to argue, to cry, or to glare back with dramatic anger.

"Good," Father grunts, standing up from the couch. "Let us eat. The sight of her is making me lose my appetite already."

As they all move toward the dining table, I stay seated for a second longer, looking down at my whole, unburned hands.

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