Chapter 1 – The End and the Beginning

A Life That Never Belonged to Him

Lioren had never been wanted.

From the moment of his birth, he was nothing more than a mistake, a product of greed, a tool in a scheme that had failed before it even began.

His mother, Elara , had been married to a poor but hardworking man, Gareth —a man she resented for not giving her the lavish life she believed she deserved. And so, when she met Victor , a man of wealth and power, she thought she had found her way out.

She seduced him. She let him take her. She believed if she got pregnant with his child, he would be forced to leave his wife and marry her. She imagined herself in silk and gold, living as the lady of a grand estate.

But Victor never had any intention of leaving his real wife.

When Elara told him she was pregnant, he laughed.

And just like that, he walked away, leaving her alone with the bastard growing in her womb.

Desperate, Elara ran back to her husband, begging for forgiveness, pretending the child was his. But Gareth had already suspected the affair. When he learned the truth, he threw her out, sneering in disgust.

"You ruined your own life. Don't bring that bastard into mine."

Lioren was born into a world where no one wanted him.

Raised Without Love

Elara, furious at being abandoned, sued Victor for child support—and won.

But Victor never accepted Lioren as his son. He paid for his survival, but that was it.

Lioren was placed in a private estate, raised by nannies who only cared about their salaries.

They never hugged him. Never praised him. Never showed him warmth.

His mother? She spent the child support on herself and visited only when she wanted more money.

His father? He pretended he didn’t exist.

"You will never inherit anything from me." Those were the only words Victor Langley ever said to him.

So, Lioren stopped caring. He read books, he observed people, he taught himself to survive in a world that had already discarded him.

By the time he was sixteen, he overheard the maids whispering:

“The master will never let that bastard inherit the company.”

“Of course not. Once he has a proper heir, he’ll throw the trash out.”

Lioren had already expected it.

By eighteen, it finally happened.

Victor wife gave birth to a legitimate son. The moment that child took his first breath, Lioren’s fate was sealed.

On his eighteenth birthday, Lioren had one final meal prepared by the head maid, Madam Roselle.

He could tell immediately.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The taste was off.

He glanced up. She was watching him with a smile.

"Was this order from my father?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She chuckled, not even bothering to lie.

"He doesn’t give orders for filth. He just lets it be cleaned up."

Lioren sighed, setting his fork down. He wasn’t even angry.

He had never wanted their wealth.

He had never wanted their name.

And yet, they still decided his life was worth nothing.

As the poison spread, his limbs grew heavy, his vision darkened, and his last thought before death was…

"Figures."

The next time Lioren opened his eyes, he wasn’t dead.

He was warm.

His body was pressed against something soft, comforting, and unfamiliar. He felt arms wrapped around him, holding him close, and the sound of quiet, shaking sobs filled the air.

A woman’s voice, trembling, desperate.

"Please… wake up… my love, please…"

His mind was still sluggish, but something was wrong.

This wasn’t his bed. This wasn’t his world. And most of all—

This wasn’t his body.

Slowly, he forced his heavy eyelids to open.

The first thing he saw was her.

She was beautiful beyond words—long, silver-white hair that cascaded around her delicate face, golden eyes shimmering with tears, her lips trembling as she pressed him against her chest, holding him as if he would disappear.

"I thought I lost you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Lioren tried to move, but his body felt different—stronger, lighter, not human. And the moment he saw his own reflection in the glass window, his breath caught.

He wasn’t himself anymore.

His ears—long and pointed.

His eyes—sharper, glowing faintly in the dim candlelight.

His hair—silver, matching the woman’s.

And then—memories not his own crashed into him.

A boy. A village. A life that ended before it ever truly began.

The real Lioren—the original owner of this body—was dead.

And the woman still clutching him, crying into his hair, had no idea.

"Lioren, my love… don’t scare me like that."

His heartbeat slowed.

She wasn’t calling him “my son.”

She wasn’t calling him by name in a casual way.

Her voice was filled with deep affection, longing, and devotion.

And that’s when it truly hit him.

His lips parted slightly, but he had no idea what to say.

Then, Lilith cupped his face with trembling hands, leaning closer, her forehead pressing softly against his.

Her breath was warm against his skin, and with a love so deep it made his chest ache, she whispered:

"I love you."