1
The Crane family has a rule: a daughter of the house must marry the beastkin she raises with her own hands.
But my fox hated me with everything he had.
The one he’d wanted from the very first glance was my sister. He was certain I’d torn them apart.
He used his charm magic to control me, over and over, and helped my sister take the head of the family’s seat.
In the end, my sister’s beast tore me to pieces.
When I opened my eyes again, I’d been reborn on the day we chose our beastkin.
The little fox was gazing at me, eyes red and pleading.
I raised my hand, and while he watched with such hope, I pointed past him at the white snake behind him, barely clinging to life.
“I want him.”
The fox’s eyes trembled. “You don’t want me anymore?”
1
When I died in the wolf’s jaws, Reynard just watched from a distance, colder than ice.
My half sister came gliding over, all grace, and his face instantly melted into adoration. He nuzzled Celia’s palm like a good little pet.
That was the moment I finally understood. Reynard had never wanted me.
He’d wanted Celia—the one who’d once sneered that, apart from his charm magic, he couldn’t fight at all.
Celia flicked a careless glance my way and gave a single command. The black wolf bit straight through my throat.
When I opened my eyes again, the air was full of noise—voices, chatter, and under it the snarling of beastkin.
Someone nudged my arm. “Ivy, what are you spacing out for?”
I came to with a jolt, staring at the young beastkin in the cage in front of me, and it hit me all at once. I’d been reborn!
And today was the day Father had brought us to the black market to choose our beastkin.
The Crane family had an unwritten rule. When a son or daughter came of age, they had to choose a beastkin and raise it themselves, as their future partner. Never to betray it. Never to abandon it.
Beastkin grow faster than humans. To keep them from holding grudges and turning on us, the ones we chose from were never full-grown. They looked about eleven or twelve.
I’d never really understood it. Beastkin and humans weren’t equals. Just look at them now—locked in a cage, waiting helplessly to be picked.
So why would the Crane family make a rule like that?
Weren’t they afraid the beastkin would turn on them?
Reynard’s cold face from my last life flashed through my mind, and I pressed a hand to the ache in my chest.
At least twenty beastkin were crammed into the huge iron cage.
Beastkin are born fighters, so of course every one of them was covered in wounds.
I spotted Reynard at once, huddled in a corner. His arm had been bitten, and he couldn’t keep his fox ears and tail hidden anymore.
When our eyes met, his lit up. He actually came over.
“Ivy, see one you like?”
Celia came up behind me, smiling sweetly.
She was Father’s daughter by his first wife, who’d died giving birth to her.
Later, Father married my mother and had my brother and me.
All these years, Celia had kept up a perfect image: courteous and gracious with everyone outside, loving and thoughtful with her little sister at home.
But underneath, she was insanely jealous of my brother and me. She was convinced we’d stolen Father’s attention, and that someday we’d steal the inheritance that should have been hers, too.
That was why she kept putting off choosing her own beastkin partner—so she could wait for me and set a trap.
Looking at Celia now, as elegant as a lotus, I understood. Reynard must have already fallen for her by this point.
Celia saw Reynard too. “You’ve always loved pretty things. That fox is lovely. He’d suit you.”
I gave a small laugh. “Tch. Pretty, and good for nothing else.”
Reynard went pale.
In my last life, Celia was the one who’d said that. When Reynard heard it, his eyes had filled with tears in an instant.
Now, too.
He stared at me, white-faced, as if he couldn’t believe it.
That made me suspicious.
Celia smiled and didn’t make any more small talk. She went off to choose a beastkin of her own.
Just like last time, she chose the powerful black wolf.
Now I was the only one left.
There weren’t many beastkin left in the cage. When I looked over, Reynard was watching me, his eyes full of hope.
But my eyes landed on the beastkin behind him—human above, serpent below.
If I remembered right, no one had chosen him in my last life.
But later, a beastkin appeared in the city, a name people only said in whispers: Silas.
Single-handedly, he tore the entire black market apart and led countless beastkin to freedom. Years later, he came forward to negotiate with humans on behalf of all beastkin, and won equal rights for a people who’d always been treated as less.
I’d been lucky enough to see Silas once. That white serpent’s tail had looked very familiar.
And right now, Silas couldn’t even hold his human form. His tail lay limp and listless. He looked desperately weak.
Father pressed me. “Have you decided?”
I nodded. “Mm.”
Reynard watched me, thrilled, his hands already wrapped around the bars.
I raised my hand, and while he watched with such hope, I pointed at Silas behind him.
“I want him.”
Reynard’s face froze. He turned to look at the frail Silas behind him, as though he couldn’t believe it.
“Why?”
“You don’t want me anymore?”
