[Warning: Trigger words ]
Imani
My heel hit the side of the bed, when I staggered back and tripped.
"No, no, no…" My hands clawed at my skin like I could peel it off and find myself underneath.
Cassiel rushed to my side instantly. "Imani! What's wrong? Did you see something?" he asked.
I didn't even look at him. I just jabbed a shaky finger toward the mirror. "Who the hell is that?"
Cassiel held my shoulders with both hands now. "Imani, what's wrong? You're worrying me."
"That's not me," I whispered, pointing at the reflection. "That's not my face."
I stared at the mirror, and the mirror stared back.
The reflection had my eyes—sort of. Except hers were Heterochromatic (Emerald Green and amber) to my hazel ones.
But that wasn't me. Not the me I paid for. Not the one who booked back-to-back Pilates, ate around 1,600 calories every day, who never skipped Botox, who knew her angles like she knew her bank balance. That girl was gone.
This one?
She had love handles.
A round face with black heads, white heads and acne. A thick waist. A full belly. Massive thighs and a fupa that had no business being that bold under this outfit.
My hair? I don't even know how to describe it. Red and pink collided into some… sorbet disaster, and the roots were frizzing out like nobody gave a damn. Clearly, someone didn't.
Did the fall change my appearance? What happened?
What the hell?" I whispered, touching my face, and the stranger in the mirror did the same.
It felt real. Soft skin. Warm. Breathing. Frown lines.
But… it wasn't me.
"What the actual…?"
"Stop swearing," Cassiel said gently. "It's not ladylike."
"Well, I wouldn't if there's nothing worth swearing. That is not me," I said again. "That's not my face. I have raven, black, silky hair, not this contraption."
"What are you talking about?" Cassiel frowned. "That's you. Except for the hair, though. You showed up with it at our secret meeting place three days ago. I tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted your friend said it suited you."
"Wow!" was all I could say.
"Aside from that, you've always been like this, Imani. Why are you acting strange? Did something else happen?"
I blinked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "Did something happen?" I repeated, I could feel my voice rising.
He sighed like he pitied me. "I guess you're still suffering from the shock of nearly being killed. I'll have a healer sent here to check you and have you treated."
"Have me treated?"
He took a step back. "Yes. You need rest. Maybe some calming tea would help fix your frayed nerves."
I whirled on him, blowing hot. "Why am I walking about dressed like some street hooker and you say we are lovers? You let me go out like this? With this hair? When I am not mad?"
His brows drew together. "Imani, the other dress was not suitable. Given the situation, the soldiers had to find what they could, but I'll ask Orrin to have a few elegant dresses delivered to you. Is that okay?"
"No!" I shook my head. "That won't fix the fact that I am Fat. This body? This aesthetic?" I pointed at myself like I'd been personally victimized by fashion. "I wouldn't be caught dead looking like this."
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly confused. "Alright, I'll get a healer and your friend. Maybe seeing her will help."
I watched him start for the door. He was running away. Mid-step, he paused and turned to me. "Don't open the door unless someone knocks twice. Do you understand?"
He didn't wait for me to answer. He left, leaving me still standing in stunned silence.
This couldn't be happening. This wasn't a prank or a nightmare or a drug trip. It was real, I wasn't in my body anymore.
I turned back to the mirror.
The reflection stared back, frowning, obviously as confused, like she was trying to figure me out too.
I stepped closer. "Who are you?"
No answer, obviously.
But I looked deeper. The bone structure wasn't mine, the eyes or the body, but the flicker of thought behind them? That was all me. The voice in my head. The memories. The panic… we're all mine.
"I'm not crazy," I muttered.
That's what someone crazy would say.
I paced the small room—everything was carved out of wood, velvet drapes, and candle sconces—like I was in some fantasy book. Everything smelled like pine and smoke. There were no light switches anywhere, no power outlets, and no phones.
No exit plans.
"What the fuck is going on…?"
I reached for the window latch and peered out. There were courtyards, watchtowers, and a literal guard patrolling. There were horses and people walking around in cloaks, but no cars or billboards.
No Manhattan skyline.
I wasn't on Earth. Or if I was, this was a hell of a themed simulation. For the first time since I woke up, I was beginning to really look at my surroundings. I was trying to understand what this was.
Why am I in a place where there's a dragon? And a horse and a palace?
I turned back to the mirror; my brain was thinking a million things at once.
Could this be what people talk about online? Those freaky Reddit stories about souls waking up in other bodies? I thought it was fanfic garbage, but now…
Now, I wasn't so sure.
I removed the clothes I had on and stood naked in front of the mirror, staring harder. There were no tattoos or surgery marks. Instead, the curves were fuller than mine ever were. The breasts were larger, spilling over what would have been a D cup. The skin was lighter, too, more golden than my natural deep brown.
My stomach tightened as the memory of the fall flitted into my mind again. Andrew's betrayal, my screams swallowed by the morning traffic, my body slamming the pavement.
And then… Darkness.
And now? This. Another Imani. Same name. Same thoughts and a new body.
I picked up my discarded clothes and slipped it on, my heart was still racing.
"Okay, moment of truth, Imani Marlowe," I said to the room. "You died. And you woke up in someone else's body. With your memories still intact, just a different face and a slightly overweight body."
Which meant someone else was in mine. Was that how this worked?
Or was I just… gone, and the world had moved on?
Cassiel had said the year was 2342.
I scoffed under my breath. "So, this is the future? Great. A future with no cell service, dragons and people using swords like we're in some damn medieval film?"
I sank onto the bed and ran a hand through my pink-red disaster of a hairdo. "I just wanted a sugar daddy," I muttered. "Not a fucking soul swap with a wolf King and a dragon King who thinks I'm property."
It wasn't fair.
This wasn't the life I hustled for.
I thought I'd earned a condo, not a castle. A yacht, not a horse-drawn cart. Not near-death experiences, not arranged sacrifice, not a damn dragon-rider growling "mine" at me.
I wanted brunch in Malibu.
Not medieval PTSD.
And yet... here I was.
And for some insane reason, I was Imani Valeris here—some Omega werewolf tribute who couldn't control her heat. I also have a wolf named Nyx.
I thumped on my chest, hoping the ache there would stop. Maybe this version of me had some genetic defect. Perhaps this was why Cassiel kept talking about uncontrollable heat and suppressants.
Maybe...
The sound of a soft knock broke my thoughts. Two knocks.
I stood.
My heart racing, as I walked to the door. "Who is it?"
A muffled female voice reached me. "It's me. Eira."
I opened the door cautiously.
Eira stood there in a simple gown, her hair was braided down her back, and her eyes were wide and warm. She didn't look familiar. She stepped in quickly and shut the door behind her.
"Oh, thank the Goddess," she whispered, grabbing my hands. "You're okay."
I pulled back slightly. "Who are you?"
She blinked. "Imani... It's me, Eira your best friend. We've worked together for two years. You saved me from being assigned to that bastard, Gamma Rolan. Don't you remember? You also helped me get the maid's girl position for Alpha Cassiel's mother here at the palace a month ago."
I shook my head. "No. I don't remember anything."
Her smile faltered. "Nothing at all?"
"Not a single thing."
I expected her to panic, maybe freak out, maybe start asking a million questions like Cassiel did, but instead, she just nodded. "Then we'll start over."
I stared at her. "Why are you so chill about this?"
"Chill?" she arched a brow. "What is that?"
I sighed. "Why are you acting like this is okay – normal?"
She shrugged. "Because after what happened today... anyone would forget. You almost died. I heard the Dragon King nearly took you. That's enough to fry anyone's brain."
I rubbed my face. "Yeah. About that, what year are we in exactly? Like... time of the year, month?"
She eyed me strangely. "We're in 2342…"
"Yeah, I know," I snapped but took a deep breath, trying to control my frustration. "What time, particularly? Is it the stone age or something?"
"Oh, I understand now." Eira chuckled. "It's 2342 A.R."
"A.R.? What's that?"
"Goddess, Imani, did your dull brain forget something as simple as that?" she scoffed. "It's year 2342, After the Rise."