After My Alpha Took My Body, I Fought Back

The first sign that something was wrong came when I felt the mate mark on my neck begin to fade.

I was still in the isolation ward, the vial of potion trembling in my hand, when the door burst open with such force that the hinges splintered. Kingsley stood in the doorway, his massive frame silhouetted against the corridor light. But something was different about him—his eyes blazed with a fury I'd never seen before, and his aura pulsed with dangerous intensity.

"What have you done?" he snarled, stalking toward me.

I backed away, clutching the vial behind my back. "I'm ending this, Kingsley. You've left me no choice."

He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. "You think you can break our bond? You think you can erase me from your mind?"

"The potion—" I started, but he cut me off with a cruel laugh.

"A childish attempt at freedom." His gaze fell on my hearing aid, which was still glowing with an eerie blue light. "But you've done something far more interesting, haven't you? You've found a way to the past."

My heart froze. How could he know?

"I felt it the moment our bond began to weaken," he continued, circling me like a predator. "The timeline shifting. My younger self rejecting you before we could ever mate."

He stopped suddenly, his face lighting up with a terrible realization. "But what if I don't want you to escape me, my love? What if I want to ensure you can never leave?"

Before I could react, he slashed his palm with his claws. Blood welled up, dark and thick with Alpha power.

"No!" I screamed, trying to back away, but his grip was iron.

He grabbed my jaw, forcing it open. "This is better than any rejection," he whispered, pressing his bleeding palm to my lips. "Drink, Norah. Drink and be mine forever."

The blood poured down my throat, burning like acid. I tried to spit it out, but his Alpha command froze me in place.

"Swallow," he ordered, his voice resonating with power.

The liquid fire spread through my veins as the room began to spin. The last thing I saw was Kingsley's triumphant smile before darkness claimed me.

---

The scent of pine and bonfire greeted me when I opened my eyes. Gone was the sterile smell of the hospital, replaced by the familiar comfort of home.

I sat up, confused. My hands—they were smaller, unmarked by the scars of my failed escape attempts. I looked down at myself and gasped. I was wearing my favorite nightgown from years ago, the one with tiny silver moons that Trevor had given me for my sixteenth birthday.

I was seventeen again.

Heart pounding, I scrambled out of bed and ran to the mirror. Staring back at me was my younger self—smooth skin, hopeful eyes, hair cascading down my back in waves instead of the dull, chopped mess it had become in the isolation ward.

"Impossible," I whispered, reaching out to touch the glass.

But when I tried to move, something strange happened. My body didn't respond correctly. It stood up straighter than I intended, turned with a fluid grace I'd never possessed.

*"Hello, my love,"* a cold, familiar voice echoed in my mind. *"Surprised to see me?"*

My blood turned to ice. "Kingsley?"

*"Did you think you could escape me?"* His mental voice caressed the words with sickening tenderness. *"I've found a much better solution."*

Horror washed over me as I realized what was happening. I wasn't controlling my own body. I was trapped inside, watching as Kingsley—the thirty-year-old monster who had imprisoned and tortured me—moved my seventeen-year-old limbs with casual ease.

My body walked to the mirror, a smirk playing on my lips that I hadn't created. "Look at you," he said through my voice, a guttural approximation of sound that sent shivers down my spine. "So young. So vulnerable. So perfect."

"Get out of me!" I screamed mentally, thrashing against the invisible barriers trapping my consciousness.

*"Get out?"* He laughed, testing my vocal cords with sounds I couldn't normally make. *"I'm never leaving, Norah. This is so much better than being your mate."*

He turned my body in a slow circle, admiring the youth and vitality of my form. "Now I can protect you perfectly," he continued, his mental voice dripping with obsession. "By being you."

"What are you planning?" I asked, though I dreaded the answer.

*"Planning?"* His smile widened in the mirror. *"I'm going to rewrite history, my love. With your body as my vessel, I'll ensure my dominance is never questioned."*

As he spoke, I felt something shift inside me—a presence beside my consciousness. Not Kingsley's, but something younger, weaker.

*"Norah?"* A tentative voice reached out to mine. *"Is that really you?"*

The voice was familiar, yet different—younger, filled with confusion and fear.

"Who is this?" Kingsley demanded aloud, his voice cracking as he realized he wasn't alone in my body.

*"Kingsley?"* the other presence responded, horror dawning in his tone. *"What have you become?"*

The teenage Kingsley had found us.