Arwen POV
I stared at the red mark on my wrist, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
The burn scar shouldn't be there. I'd just checked in the mirror—my skin was perfect, young, untouched. But now, this thin red line wrapped around my wrist exactly where the rope had cut into my flesh while I burned.
I touched it with trembling fingers. It felt warm. Real.
"Lady Arwen?" Mary called through the door again. "Your stepmother is waiting for you at breakfast. She's getting impatient."
The mark vanished.
I blinked. One second it was there, clear as day. The next—nothing. Just smooth, pale skin.
Was I going crazy? Was this all in my head?
"Coming!" I shouted, my voice shaking.
I didn't have time to figure this out. If this was really my second chance, I couldn't waste it being scared. I had to focus. Had to be smart.
I let Mary help me into a simple dress and braid my hair. The whole time, I kept glancing at my wrist. The mark stayed gone, but I could still feel it. A phantom pain that whispered: *You died. You burned. Don't forget.*
I wouldn't forget. Not ever.
---
The dining room looked exactly like I remembered.
The long table was set with our best dishes—Marguerite always put on a show, even when it was just family. Father sat at the head of the table, and my stomach twisted when I saw him.
He looked terrible.
His skin was too pale, almost gray. His hands shook as he lifted his teacup. Dark circles hung under his eyes like bruises. In my first life, I'd thought he was just tired from managing the estate. I'd been so stupid.
Now I knew the truth: Marguerite was poisoning him. Slowly. Carefully. So no one would suspect until it was too late.
"Arwen, darling!" Marguerite's voice was honey-sweet as she gestured to the empty chair. "Come sit. You must eat a good breakfast before your big day."
Celeste smiled at me from across the table, all innocence and light. "Yes, sister. You need your strength for the Choosing Ceremony. It's such an important day!"
I wanted to throw my plate at her perfect face.
Instead, I smiled back and sat down. "Thank you. I'm so excited."
Lie. The word tasted bitter, but I forced it out anyway.
A servant placed food in front of me—eggs, toast, fruit. My favorite breakfast. In my first life, I'd thought it was kind of Marguerite to remember. Now I understood: she was fattening me up for slaughter. Making me trust her so I'd never suspect what came later.
"So, Arwen," Marguerite said, sipping her tea delicately. "Have you thought about who you'll choose today?"
Here it comes, I thought. The manipulation.
"I'm not sure yet," I said carefully, pushing eggs around my plate.
Marguerite's smile tightened just a fraction. "Well, your father and I have been discussing it. We think the Fox Lord Ronan Silverfox would be an excellent match."
Father nodded weakly, barely paying attention. He lifted his teacup again, and I watched—really watched—as Marguerite's eyes tracked the movement. Satisfied. Calculating.
She was poisoning him right in front of me.
My hands clenched under the table. I wanted to scream, to knock that cup from his hands, to expose her right now.
But I couldn't. Not yet. If I revealed what I knew too early, they'd just deny everything. Maybe even hurt Father faster to cover their tracks.
I had to be patient. Smart. Like Marguerite taught me to be, even if she didn't mean to.
"Lord Ronan is very handsome," Celeste added, her voice dreamy. "And so charming. Any girl would be lucky to bond with him."
I looked at her—really looked. In my first life, I'd thought Celeste genuinely admired Ronan. That she was happy for me when I chose him.
Now I saw the truth in her eyes. The hunger. The jealousy.
She wanted him for herself. She'd wanted him all along.
"He is handsome," I agreed, and watched Celeste's smile slip for just a second. "But I've heard serpent shifters are very powerful. Maybe I should consider one of them instead."
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Marguerite's cup clinked sharply against her saucer. "Serpent shifters? Arwen, dear, those creatures are dangerous. Cursed. No respectable lady would bond with one."
"They say the Serpent King attends every ceremony," I continued, pretending not to notice her anger. "But no one ever chooses him. I wonder why?"
"Because he's a monster," Celeste snapped. Her sweet mask cracked completely. "Everyone knows serpents can't be trusted. They're cold-blooded killers."
Interesting. She was more upset about this than about Ronan.
"Lord Ronan is from a good family," Marguerite said firmly. "He has connections, wealth, status. Everything you need in a bonded partner. The serpent has nothing but a crumbling fortress and a bad reputation."
Lies. Ronan was drowning in debt. His "good family" had disowned him for gambling. The only wealth he had was the money the Coalition paid him to assassinate people.
But Marguerite knew that. She was working with him.
"You're right," I said quietly, lowering my eyes like a good, obedient daughter. "I'll choose Lord Ronan. If that's what you think is best."
Marguerite's whole body relaxed. "Wonderful! You've made the right choice, dear. You'll see—this bond will secure our family's future."
She meant it would secure their bank accounts.
Father coughed weakly. "That's good, Arwen. Ronan seems like a fine young man."
My heart broke looking at him. He was dying, and he didn't even know it. The woman he'd married to replace my dead mother was killing him, and he was too sick and sad to see it.
I would save him. Somehow.
But first, I had to save myself.
"May I be excused?" I asked. "I should prepare for the ceremony."
"Of course, darling." Marguerite waved her hand gracefully.
I stood up and started toward the door. But as I passed Father's chair, I pretended to stumble. My hand knocked against his teacup, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I gasped, kneeling down.
"It's fine, it's fine," Father said tiredly. "Just an accident."
Servants rushed over to clean the mess. In the chaos, no one noticed me slip the broken pieces of the cup into my pocket. Evidence. The tea leaves would show traces of shadow root poison—I just needed someone to test them.
Someone like the Serpent King, who probably knew everything about poisons.
As I left the dining room, I heard Marguerite whisper to Celeste: "She's choosing Ronan. Finally, everything is going according to plan."
"Are you sure she won't change her mind?" Celeste whispered back.
"Trust me. That girl is too stupid and scared to do anything but obey."
I smiled as I climbed the stairs. Let them think I was stupid. Let them think they'd won.
They had no idea what was coming.
---
Back in my room, I pulled out the broken teacup pieces and wrapped them carefully in cloth. My hands were steady now. Calm.
I walked to my window and looked out at the gardens. Somewhere in the city, the Choosing Ceremony was being prepared. Hundreds of shifters were gathering, waiting for noble ladies to select them.
And in the darkest corner, one particular shifter would be standing alone.
Waiting.
I touched my wrist again. For just a second, the red mark flickered back into existence.
Then I heard it.
A voice. Not out loud—inside my head. Cold and ancient and definitely not human.
*"Choose wisely, little human. Your life depends on it."*
I spun around, my heart racing. My room was empty.
But on my mirror, written in what looked like frost, were four words:
"THE SERPENT SEES YOU"
As I watched, the words melted away like they'd never existed.
Someone—or something—knew I was different. Knew I'd come back.
And they were watching.