Fate Served (Reneesme Cullen)

Derek Hale's eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat as the world came into focus. For a moment, he was still the boy cowering behind a splintered door, the echo of a gunshot ringing in his ears. But the room around him was wrong—too bright, too luxurious, too alive. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating a spacious bedroom with sleek furniture, a massive bed draped in navy silk, and walls lined with bookshelves stuffed with novels and trinkets.

No blood. No broken door. No father. Just the steady thrum of a heartbeat that felt… different. Stronger. His mind raced, memories of his past life flooding back—the abuse, the book, his desperate prayer, and the glowing figure who’d called themselves God. The wishes. Renesmee. Twilight.

“I’m here,” he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. “I’m really here.”