Alexandria POV: "Move faster! Bury this wolfless trash deep before anyone notices!" A sharp female voice cut through the night air above me. At the same time, freezing, foul-smelling dirt pressed hard against my nose and mouth, squeezing the last bit of air from my lungs. The memory of my body tearing apart in an explosion from my past life ripped through my nerves. I opened my mouth to gasp for air, but I only swallowed a mouthful of wet mud mixed with rotting leaves. My heart convulsed wildly against my ribs as suffocation set in. Instinctively, I tried to raise my hands to claw the heavy weight off my face. My wrists wouldn't budge. Coarse hemp rope bound them tightly behind my back, the rough fibers cutting deep into my raw flesh. I forced my eyes open and blinked hard. A sharp pain shot through my eyeballs, yet I saw only pitch blackness. There was no light at all. This body was completely blind. Above my head, an iron shovel scraped against gravel. A second later, another heavy load of wet earth slammed onto my chest, nearly snapping my breastbone. I forced my racing pulse to slow down. My combat instincts as a former special forces operative and master physician took over this frail shell. Drawing on my combat training, I forced my pulse to slow to conserve oxygen. Shifting my weight under the heavy dirt, I nudged a tiny air pocket open with my shoulder, spat out the mud, and sucked in a breath of stale air. Heavy footsteps paced back and forth along the edge of the pit. Heavy military boots crushed dry branches in the quiet yard. Using the sound to gauge the distance, I calculated that the woman speaking stood about ten feet above me, looking down into the grave. Beside her, a raspy male voice answered in a flattering tone. "Rest assured, my Lady. That cup of poisoned tea was heavy enough to kill a horse. This blind girl didn't even twitch before she died." Poisoned tea? I turned my attention inward to assess this body's condition. My stomach cramped in waves, but deep inside my bones, an ancient, icy power was waking up, hungrily devouring the toxins. I tried to summon my martial energy, only to find an empty void. In this werewolf kingdom, they all believed this body was a wolfless piece of trash. But as the poison burned through my veins, I felt a dormant spark waiting to ignite. "Hmph. If it weren't for Karin taking her place to marry Young Lord Dedrick, I wouldn't have wasted such expensive poison on a blind cripple," the woman sneered. The unfamiliar names struck my brain like lightning. Broken memories belonging to the original owner of this body flooded my mind, making my head spin. My name was Alexandria Cameron, the legitimate eldest daughter of the Cameron Pack Alpha. The woman giving orders above was my stepmother, Beatrice Cameron. To clear the path for her biological daughter, Karin, to steal my fiancé, Dedrick Branch, my own stepmother had poisoned me and ordered her guards to bury me alive. A cold smirk tugged at the corner of my mud-caked lips. Since I now owned this body, I would collect every drop of blood they owed her. The dirt had already piled up to my neck. My body heat was dropping fast against the freezing mud. I needed to move now. I bent my legs slightly under the soil, bracing the tips of my toes against the hard stones embedded in the walls of the pit to store muscle power. The rope around my wrists was tied with professional knots, but to an escape specialist, every knot had a dead angle. Enduring a sharp flash of pain, I dislocated my left thumb joint, creating just enough slack in the tight hemp to work my wrists free. Above me, the guards shoveled faster. Dirt rained down like a storm, covering my chin and threatening to seal off my breathing space. "That's enough. Stomp the dirt flat so no one sees the ground was turned tomorrow morning," Beatrice said, waving her hand impatiently. Two guards jumped down into the pit. The stench of rotting leaves on the soles of their heavy boots filled my nose as a boot descended straight toward my face. I sucked in one last breath, expanding my chest to crack the soil pressing me down. Just as the boot heel was about to crush my nose, I snapped my head to the side. The heavy leather scraped past my ear and sank into the mud beside my cheek. The guard paused, his weight shifting unevenly. "Huh? Why is the dirt so soft here?" he muttered. Using the moment his balance faltered, I wrenched my bound hands behind my back, grinding the hemp fibers against the sharp stone wall. The rope frayed with a faint snapping sound, loosening my grip. I opened my mud-stained mouth and forced a hoarse, freezing voice from my raw throat. "Are you done stepping on me?"

Alexandria POV: My hoarse question rang out in the quiet night, and the guard standing over me shuddered violently. He stumbled backward in panic, his heels catching on the uneven dirt. "A ghost! The corpse came back to life!" the guard shrieked, his voice cracking in terror as he pointed at my pale face sticking out of the mud. Up on the edge of the pit, Beatrice froze. I heard the rustle of her heavy silk skirts as she leaned over the rim to glare down at me. "What are you panicking about?" Beatrice snarled. "This little bitch just got lucky! Finish the job and keep burying her!" Listening to her frantic order, I curled my lips into a cold smile. Behind my back, I twisted my wrists hard, snapping the remaining frayed strands of the hemp rope one by one. The guard in the pit gritted his teeth. Gathering his courage, he raised his iron shovel high and swung the flat metal blade straight down at my head. The wind from the swing brushed against my forehead. My ears twitched, locking onto the exact trajectory of the falling shovel. I tightened my core and twisted my upper body sharply to the left like a striking snake. The heavy iron blade grazed my shoulder and slammed into the mud. The violent impact numbed the guard's hands, and he gasped in disbelief. Before he could pull the shovel free, I contracted my legs under the soil and pushed off the stone walls of the pit with all my strength. With a muffled roar of flying dirt, I launched myself upward out of the grave. Mud clods sprayed in every direction. In midair, I yanked my arms apart. With a dull snap, the ruined hemp rope broke completely and fell to the ground. I landed steadily on the clear side of the pit floor. Though my eyes remained shut, the murderous aura radiating from my body made the air in the pit turn freezing cold. The guard swallowed hard, his boots scraping backward as his hands trembled on the shovel handle. "Why are you standing there?" Beatrice screamed from above. "She's blind! She is a wolfless cripple without an inner wolf! Can't two grown men hold down a piece of trash?" Reminded that a wolfless girl had no supernatural strength or healing, the two guards exchanged a fierce breath and lunged at me from both sides, trying to pin me back into the dirt with brute force. I stood still. My ears tracked their heavy footsteps and rough breathing, mapping out their attack angles in my mind. The guard on the left reached for my shoulder first. I ducked slightly and drove the edge of my right palm upward like a blade, striking the weak joint of his wrist. A crisp crack echoed in the pit. The guard let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching his broken wrist as he stumbled backward. Alarmed, the guard on the right swung his fist at my face. The punch carried the brute force of a trained warrior. I tilted my head to dodge his clumsy swing, clamped my left hand over his forearm, and used his own forward momentum to flip him over my shoulder. His back slammed hard against the stone wall of the pit. Without a sound, he slid down into the mud, out cold. I turned around slowly. Though I couldn't see, I heard Beatrice's breathing above me turn ragged and panicked. "You... you aren't Alexandria! Who the hell are you?" Beatrice's voice shook. I didn't answer. Bending down, I picked up the mud-stained shovel from the ground. My fingers brushed over the rough wooden handle, welcoming the familiar feel of a weapon. I took a deep breath, bent my knees, and leaped upward toward the edge of the pit ten feet above. Because this starved body was still too weak, my fingertips barely caught the rim of the hole. Sharp gravel tore into the pads of my fingers. Beatrice gasped and raised her heeled shoe, stomping down viciously toward my fingers gripping the edge. I snorted coldly and let go with my left hand. As my body dropped an inch, my right hand swung the shovel and drove the iron blade deep into the dirt wall of the pit. Using the shovel handle as a lever, I tightened my waist, swung my legs up in a sharp arc, and flipped myself right over the edge. I landed squarely in front of Beatrice. The cold night wind whipped my muddy hair forward. Terrified, Beatrice scrambled backward, lost her footing, and fell hard onto her backside in the mud. I drove the iron shovel into the ground beside my foot and leaned on it, turning my sightless, ice-blue eyes straight toward her face.

Alexandria POV: The night wind blew my torn, mud-caked dress against my shins as I stood over Beatrice, leaning on the shovel handle. After a brief moment of terror, the arrogance of being the Pack Alpha's wife returned to Beatrice. She scrambled up from the mud, breathing heavily. "You blind little freak!" Beatrice shrieked, pointing a trembling finger right at my nose. "So what if you climbed out? In Silvermoon Kingdom, bloodline is law! You are still a wolfless piece of trash without an inner wolf!" I tilted my head slightly, listening to the shrill pitch of her voice. My right index finger tapped a slow, steady rhythm against the wooden handle of the shovel, counting down her final seconds. Enraged by my silence, Beatrice raised her hand and swung a vicious slap toward my left cheek, trying to reclaim her authority as Lady Cameron. Right before her palm touched my skin, I caught the shift in the air current. I leaned my head back half an inch, dodging her slap completely. Because she had used too much force, the missed swing threw Beatrice off balance. She let out a clumsy yelp as her upper body lurched forward. Without hesitation, I lashed out with my right leg. My foot struck the back of her knee with a dull thud. Beatrice screamed as both of her knees slammed onto the sharp gravel. She curled forward in agony, gasping for breath as tears poured down her face. Hearing their mistress cry out, three more guards hiding in the shadows of the courtyard drew their steel blades from their waists. Roaring, they charged at me from three different angles to cut off my escape. I listened closely. Their footsteps varied in weight. The guard on the left breathed the heaviest, clearly an impatient brute looking for quick credit. He reached me first, swinging his steel blade down toward my skull. I felt the cold air off the sharp edge. Grabbing the shovel handle with both hands, I thrust it upward. Clang! Sparks flew as the wooden shaft blocked the steel blade head-on. The heavy impact made the web of my thumb ache. This body's muscles were far too weak, so I couldn't fight them with raw strength. I tilted the shovel handle, letting his blade slide down the wood, and drove my left knee straight into his unguarded stomach. He groaned and flew backward into the dirt. Seeing this, the guards on my right and behind me changed tactics, closing in at the same time to trap me between their blades. The guard behind me growled and thrust his sword tip straight at the center of my back. I threw myself forward onto the ground, executing a clean tactical roll through the mud. The sword tip grazed my back, slicing open the fabric of my dress. Coming out of the roll in a half-crouch, I spun around and swept the iron shovel horizontally like a spear. The heavy flat of the shovel smashed into the guard's shinbone. A loud crack echoed through the courtyard. He howled and collapsed to his knees, clutching his broken leg. The last guard froze in his tracks. Looking at his groaning comrades on the ground and then at my shut eyes, his hand shook violently around his sword hilt. "M-Monster!" he yelled, dropping his weapon onto the gravel and turning to run. I sneered. Pulling my right arm back, I hurled the shovel like a javelin. The wooden shaft tore through the air with a sharp whistle and struck the fleeing guard squarely in the center of his back. The force slammed him face-first into the dirt, knocking the wind completely out of him. I stood up slowly and brushed the dirt off my palms. Behind me, Beatrice knelt on the gravel, her breathing shallow and erratic. Her elite guards had been wiped out by a blind girl in less than three minutes. I turned and walked toward the sound of her ragged breaths. My boots crunched against the gravel with every step. Beatrice dragged herself backward across the mud until her spine hit the trunk of a dead tree, leaving her nowhere left to run. "Stay back!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "I am Lady Cameron, the Luna of this territory! If you touch a hair on my head, your father Reginald will tear you to pieces!" I stopped right in front of her, leaned down, and clamped my freezing fingers around her well-maintained chin, forcing her head up toward my empty eyes. "Lady Cameron? The moment you poured that poisoned tea down my throat, you were already dead to me."