## My best friend and I woke up one day to find ourselves transported into a beast tribe. She was cast as the stand-in for the icy high priest’s unattainable first love. I, on the other hand, was stuck as the pathetic sycophant of a psychotic snake king. Armed with modern knowledge, the two of us worked tirelessly to improve the tribe’s infrastructure—only to be labeled as heretics and brutally executed by the saint of the tribe. Beheaded. Burned. Our souls shattered. When I opened my eyes again, I grabbed my backpack, knocked on my best friend’s door, and asked: “Are you ready to die again?” “Together,” she replied without hesitation. Turns out, after our deaths, our so-called husbands went completely insane. By the time the high priest returned to the tribe, Leila and I were already in the middle of dividing up the last of our stockpiled supplies. She crouched on the floor, meticulously sorting through her stash. From tiny bottles of chili sauce to a collapsible tent, she treated everything like treasure. Thanks to our efforts at modernizing the tribe, we’d accidentally amassed a decent warehouse of goods over the years. She looked so pleased with her finds that I couldn’t help but feel a mix of envy and pride. Suddenly, a frantic shout came from outside: “The high priest has returned!” Leila shot to her feet like a startled cat, her face instantly losing color. Without missing a beat, she shoved me—backpack and all—under the bed. “Stay hidden and don’t make a sound!” she hissed. Then, with surprising ease, she picked up a three-kilogram cast iron pan and handed it to me like it weighed nothing. “If that saintess shows up to cause trouble, smash her in the face with this!” Before I could respond, the door burst open, kicked down by none other than the high priest. Despite his title as a religious figure, the man standing before us was every bit the predator his avian lineage implied. Towering and broad-shouldered, his sheer presence seemed to block out the light from the doorway. His sharp gaze fell on Leila, who was frozen in place, her eyes brimming with tears as though she were seconds away from shattering. “You’re back!” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you send word ahead? I could’ve prepared a proper welcome…” Her tone was soft, laced with just the right amount of vulnerability, but the high priest didn’t so much as blink. “Where is Suya?” he demanded, his voice cold enough to freeze the air. Leila’s face twisted into a picture of confusion so convincing that I almost believed her myself. “Suya? She’s missing?” “I’ve told you countless times,” he growled, his patience wearing thin. “She is the chosen saint, blessed by the gods. I stripped myself bare and prayed for her empowerment—it is destiny.” His tone dropped even colder, and his gaze darkened. “You met with her in secret. The next moment, she vanished. Do you really expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?” Leila’s lips trembled as she reached out to tug at the hem of his robe, her voice barely above a whisper. “She… she asked to meet with me. She wanted to talk…” Before she could finish, he pulled his robe out of her grasp with such force that her wrist turned red from the friction. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cowered, clutching her wrist. For a moment, the high priest hesitated, his gaze softening ever so slightly. But just as quickly, he turned and stormed out of the room. “Do not leave this house unless I command it,” he barked over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway. Leila collapsed to the floor with a dramatic wail. “Please don’t go! Stay!” Her mournful cries echoed through the room, but as soon as his footsteps faded, she wiped her face dry and deadpanned: “He’s gone. You can come out now.” I crawled out from under the bed, pan in hand, and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve gotten better at this.” Leila smirked. “The game’s on. Suya’s starting her drama with the high priest. Your snake king is next.” I shivered at the thought. “Yeah, I can feel it. It’s about to get messy.” We exchanged a look, then glanced at the pile of supplies on the floor. “Die again?” I asked, my tone light but my meaning clear. Leila didn’t even hesitate. “Of course. But this time, we’re dying on our own terms.” 2 Leila and I weren’t natives to this world. She’d been brought here as the stand-in for the high priest, Sterling’s, one true love—the saintess Suya. In this brutal world of beast tribes, where people could shift into animals, the high priest held a position of unparalleled power. Sterling was the poster child of perfection: devastatingly handsome and worshipped by all. But no matter how much Leila tried, his heart was forever tied to Suya. Meanwhile, my luck was even worse. When we first arrived in this world, we were presented with a lineup of handsome, half-naked men to choose from. Without thinking, I picked the most dangerous-looking one—a man with piercing, cold eyes and an aura that screamed “stay away.” That man turned out to be the snake king, Lucien, feared by everyone in the tribe for his venom and ruthlessness. It wasn’t long before I realized just how “dangerous” he could be. Let’s just say his… capabilities in certain areas were extreme. To survive, I became his obedient little lapdog. The first time around, Leila and I used our modern knowledge to revolutionize the tribe. We built bridges, dug wells, wove fabrics, and even introduced basic sanitation systems. But none of it mattered. The moment our so-called “husbands” left the tribe, Suya accused us of heresy. We were dragged to the sacrificial altar, tied to posts, and forced to watch as Suya, draped in a pure white robe, smiled angelically while slicing away at me with a dagger. Piece by piece, she carved me apart. Blood soaked the altar as my head was severed from my body. When she was done, she burned what remained of our souls, ensuring we couldn’t even reincarnate properly. “Why did Suya even meet with you?” I asked. Leila scowled. “How should I know? I didn’t go. Do I look that stupid to you?” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Sterling might be cold and distant, but even if Suya stirs up trouble, the worst he’ll do is kick you out.” My voice dropped as I remembered my own situation. “But Lucien…” Leila shuddered. “Yeah, your snake king is way scarier. He’d probably skin you alive.” “Not probably. Definitely.” I couldn’t stop the chill that ran down my spine. The stories about Lucien weren’t just rumors—they were horrifyingly true. He once peeled the skin off a prisoner, layer by layer, just to extract information. The screams were so terrifying that they sent the enemy troops into retreat. And yet, all of his attention—his obsession—was reserved for the same woman who doomed us both: Suya. If I was going to die, I needed to plan my escape carefully. But just as I started packing, a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, yanking me backward. The world spun as my back hit the wall, and a low, dangerous voice whispered against my ear: “Where were you?” 3 Lucien’s voice rumbled low and rough, so close to my ear I could feel the heat of his breath. His hand wrapped around my wrist with ease, pinning me in place. There wasn’t even the smallest gap between us, our bodies pressed together. His collar was slightly open, revealing faint crimson scales etched across his collarbone—sharp, menacing, and impossible to ignore. The glint in his eyes was predatory, like a beast that had just cornered its prey. “I went to see Leila. She helped me make you a gift…” I started, but before I could finish, he ducked his head and tugged a necklace off my neck with his teeth. The necklace was crude, made from river stones I’d polished and strung together with no real skill. Ugly and rough, it was a clumsy attempt at crafting. “This? For me?” he asked, raising a brow. He examined it briefly, his lips curling into a faint smirk of mockery. “It’s hideous,” he said bluntly. Despite his words, he tied the necklace around his neck without hesitation. The mismatched trinket looked ridiculous against his cold, lethal aura, but somehow, he wore it anyway. “Lucien,” I said, my voice softening as I called his name. “Hmm?” His head tilted slightly, gaze fixed on me. “Suya… she’s missing, isn’t she?” He leaned closer, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I felt his breath against my skin as he inhaled deeply, his voice rasping with satisfaction. “Was it you?” I turned my head away, avoiding his question. Instead, I shoved at his chest, trying to free myself. “You stink. Go take a bath.” I expected him to snap back, but instead, he scooped me up without a word. With a few long strides, he reached the edge of the bathing pool and leapt in, dragging me with him. Water splashed everywhere as he pulled me against him, his grip tightening. Something about him shifted. His breathing grew heavier, his movements rougher. When I glanced down, I saw that half his body had already transformed into a long, sleek serpent’s tail. The dark, iridescent scales shimmered like liquid obsidian, cold to the touch as they pressed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “Scared?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing, though his eyes burned with something far more dangerous. Before I could answer, his lips curved into a wicked smile, and he claimed me with a kind of madness I’d come to know all too well. Lucien was relentless. Two. Just two, but it was enough to leave me trembling. His tail coiled around me, pinning my wrists, refusing to let me go. Again and again, he pushed me past my limits, his predatory nature shining through. Even when I was too exhausted to move, he didn’t stop. By the time he finally relented, I felt like my entire body had been wrung out. Weak and boneless, I could barely lift my arms. Lucien, however, seemed perfectly at ease. He dipped his head and bit down on my shoulder—a possessive mark—before gently licking the spot he’d bitten. Then, he grabbed a cloth to dry my hair, his movements surprisingly tender. “Stay in the house for the next few days,” he said, his tone far softer now. “There’s trouble in the army. I won’t have time to deal with you.” It was clear he was in a good mood. I lowered my head, feigning sadness. “Lucien… can’t we ever have a real home? A family?” His hand froze mid-motion. He turned to face me, his gaze sharp and cold. That was the line. Lucien could possess me, control me, even indulge me—but he would never entertain the idea of marriage or children. He didn’t answer. Instead, he silently handed me a cup of bitter herbs. “Drink,” he ordered. The taste was awful, spreading across my tongue and down my throat like a punishment. Tears sprang to my eyes as I stared at the bowl in my hands, my tears falling into the dregs at the bottom. Once I finished the last drop, Lucien pulled on his cloak. His tail shifted back into human legs as he stood, his expression as cold and distant as ever. Without so much as a glance back, he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I stayed where I was, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading away. Then, slowly, a grin spread across my face. Perfect. He wouldn’t be back for at least ten days. Ignoring the ache in my body, I pushed myself to my feet and hobbled over to the stash of supplies hidden in the corner. I opened the chest and carefully selected a few key items. Three days later, in the dead of winter, Leila jumped off a cliff. 4 Sterling received word that someone had spotted Suya deep in the snow forest. Without hesitation, he set off, only to be stopped midway by a breathless teenager from the tribe: “High Priest! It’s bad! Your wife… she’s climbed to the top of the cliff and says she’s going to jump!” That troublesome woman. Every time something related to Suya came up, she pulled some kind of stunt. If it wasn’t pretending to be sick, it was threatening to end her life. And now? Jumping off a cliff? Sterling’s eyes narrowed, his voice icy as he barked, “Let her jump. Don’t stop her.” He didn’t even break stride. Suya was missing, and Leila thought she could distract him with her cheap tricks? Pathetic. Fury simmered in his chest as he stormed off toward the snow forest, determined to find Suya. Leila stood at the top of the cliff, wrapped in a thick fur cloak as snow whipped through the air, stinging her face and making it hard to keep her eyes open. She saw Sterling leave without hesitation and gave a bitter laugh. She had guessed right—he wouldn’t come for her. He never did. She meant nothing to him. The wind howled, colder and sharper by the second. Leila tilted her head back and looked up at the dark, stormy sky. It matched the icy emptiness in her chest. Beside her, a young girl from the tribe tugged at her sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “Leila, please think this through! It’s freezing—if you jump, you’ll turn into an ice cube down there!” Leila only smiled faintly, ignoring the girl’s pleas. She slowly shrugged off her cloak, revealing a pair of worn pendants hanging from her waist. One bore the carving of a bird in flight; the other, the sigil of the high priest. A matching pair. They were the tokens Sterling had given her on the day she accepted his courtship. Her fingers brushed over the carvings, her expression distant, her eyes red-rimmed. But then, in the biting cold, her lips curved into a reckless smile. “Becoming an ice sculpture doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” The snowstorm grew fiercer, the wind howling like a beast. Leila stepped to the edge of the cliff. And, amid the gasps and screams of the onlookers, she jumped. Her heavy cloak spiraled through the air, tumbling into the abyss below. “Damn, it’s freezing!” Leila’s voice echoed softly through the icy cavern. We had planned this for weeks, waiting for the perfect storm to cover our tracks. Leila landed lightly on the snow below, her descent slowed by a rope and the counterweight of supplies I had anchored at the top. Her lips were pale from the cold, but she was calm and collected, brushing off the snow as she glanced up. She gave her cloak one last shake, letting it fall into the ravine to complete the illusion, then turned to me with a grin. “Let’s go.” With that, we slipped into a narrow, hidden ice tunnel, vanishing into the storm. The wind and snow swept over the cliffside, erasing all traces of our escape. By the time Sterling arrived, the base of the cliff was empty. The only thing left behind was half-buried in the snow: the shattered remains of the matching pendants. 5 I knelt near the cliff’s edge, clutching the broken pieces of Leila’s pendant in my trembling hands. Tears streamed down my face, freezing against my cheeks in the biting wind. I stayed perfectly still, as if the storm itself had locked me in place. Sterling approached, his imposing figure looming over me. He looked down, his sharp gaze piercing. “Why are you crying?” “She’s gone…” I whispered, my voice shaking. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, barely holding back the fury that threatened to spill over. “Leila is dead. Are you happy now?!” Sterling’s eyes darkened, his voice cold and cutting like a blade. “Don’t be ridiculous. Leila, come out!” I laughed bitterly, lifting my head to glare at him. “Come out? Are you blind? Everyone saw her jump! What do you expect her to do—climb out of the ice with her bare hands?” Sterling’s hand twitched at his side, a small, almost imperceptible tremor betraying his composure. But his face remained stoic, his expression unreadable. His gaze flicked to the shattered pendant in my hand. “Impossible,” he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. Tears fell harder down my face, hot against the cold, as I screamed at him: “Impossible? Do you think someone can survive falling into a frozen ravine? What do you want her to do—fly out of there like one of your eagles?!” For the first time, Sterling seemed… shaken. He stood frozen, his usual calm and calculating demeanor cracked. His eyes darted back to the cliff, then to the snow below, as if expecting to see something—anything—out of place. But there was nothing. Just cold, empty silence. “No…” he whispered, almost like he was trying to convince himself. I pushed myself to my feet, anger boiling over. “You never cared about her, not once!” I shouted, my voice raw with emotion. “She waited for you, Sterling. Before she jumped, she sent someone to tell you, to give you a chance to save her. But you didn’t come. You could have turned back, but you didn’t!” Sterling’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. His pupils contracted, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something—but no words came. The storm raged around us, snow whipping through the air. Finally, he spun around, his voice a roar against the wind: “Search for her! Now!” With a sweep of his arms, he shifted, his form dissolving into a massive eagle with dark, powerful wings. Without hesitation, he dove off the cliff, disappearing into the storm below. Search for her? I looked down at the broken pendant in my palm, a wry smile tugging at my lips. Leila was long gone. She was probably sitting in a warm cave deep in the snow forest, sipping tea and toasting her feet by the fire. Sterling, meanwhile, was scouring a frozen wasteland for a ghost. Perfect. Now that he was out of the picture, faking my own death would be a piece of cake. 6 Word spread quickly through the tribe: the Snake King, Lucien, had saved the saint, Suya. She sat delicately in his arms, her soft voice barely above a whisper, her frail figure illuminated by the glow of nearby flames, making her look even more pitiable. Lucien stood tall in his black-scaled armor, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Behind them, the enemy encampment burned in a raging inferno, the path ahead slick with the blood of those he’d slaughtered. The story of Lucien’s rescue spread like wildfire. “I’ve never seen the Snake King so gentle before!” “She must be his salvation, taming the beast!” Those words stung like needles in my ears. Meanwhile, I was at home, trying to surprise Lucien by cooking something for him. It didn’t go as planned. A slip of the hand, a misplaced spark—and the entire snake den went up in flames. The fire raged for three days and nights, devouring everything. By the time it finally burned out, the tribe could only find a handful of ashes where I had been. Not even bones remained. They built a small mound to mark the spot, a symbolic grave for the ashes they could gather. When Lucien returned, the sky was dark and heavy, as if the weight of the snow clouds above would crush everything below. He stood in front of the charred ruins, his boots sinking into the blackened earth. The air around him felt sharp enough to cut. Lucien said nothing, his gaze colder than the frost creeping over the wasteland. His soldiers stood frozen behind him, terrified to speak, their breaths shallow in the oppressive silence. Finally, he raised a hand, his voice low and rough, like iron scraping against ice: “Dig.” The soldiers blinked in confusion. “Dig? Dig what?” Lucien’s eyes narrowed, a deadly glint flashing in his pupils. “I want to see her with my own eyes. Dig.”
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