The taste of blood was the last thing Seraphine Veyra remembered. Metallic, coppery, sharp as the dagger that pierced her heart.
"Did you really think I'd love you, Seraphine?" His voice, once sweet, dripped with venom. "You were always just a pawn. And pawns… are meant to be sacrificed."
The betrayal still burned in her ears. Lucien Crowe—her fiancé, the man she had trusted—smiled cruelly as her life drained away. Behind him, the so-called righteous cultivators of the Heavenly Dawn Sect sneered, watching her bleed upon the cold stone altar.
She had given everything to them. Her strategies had won their wars. Her sacrifices had cemented their power. And yet—when her usefulness ended—they had chosen her blood to awaken some ancient seal.
Her vision blurred, blackness swallowing her, rage curling inside her chest like fire.
No.
If the heavens were cruel enough to let her die, then let the heavens watch her rise again.
When the darkness cleared, Seraphine's eyes snapped open.
A ceiling of carved jade and gold shimmered above her—not the bloody altar where she had fallen. Her lungs burned as she dragged in a deep breath. Her fingers clutched silk sheets, smooth and untouched by gore.
She sat upright, heart pounding.
This wasn't death. This wasn't the afterlife.
Her reflection flickered in a bronze mirror across the chamber. A young woman stared back—her features were the same, but softer, untouched by battle scars, her skin luminous with youth. A face she hadn't seen in over ten years.
Seraphine's breath caught.
I've… gone back.
The realization clawed through her chest. She was no longer the weathered strategist betrayed at the altar. She was seventeen again—at the very moment she had first been sent as a bride… to him.
To Kael Darius.
Her heart skipped. In her last life, Kael was the villain of villains—the ruthless lord of the Obsidian Silver Sect, despised across the cultivation world. Everyone had feared him. Everyone had hated him. Even she had dreaded him… until fate chained her to Lucien instead.
But now—now she remembered.
Kael had never been the one to betray her. He had been a monster, yes—cruel, merciless, terrifying. But his blade had never stabbed her in the back. That honor had belonged to the man who called himself "righteous."
Her lips curved, not in fear, but in bitter amusement.
So the heavens had thrown her back to the beginning. To the moment when her fate had been sealed as the "forbidden bride" of the most dangerous man alive.
But this time… she would not be the pawn.
This time, Seraphine Veyra would play her own game.
She swung her legs off the bed, silk nightrobes whispering against her skin. Every nerve in her body tingled with a strange energy, like lightning coiling beneath her veins. She clenched her fists.
Cultivation.
She could feel it—the seed of power dormant in this young body, raw and untrained. In her last life, she had started cultivating too late, always struggling to catch up. Now, she had a chance to begin anew.
Seraphine smirked, a cold, beautiful curve of her lips.
"The world thinks Kael Darius is a villain," she whispered, voice soft as silk yet edged with steel. "Perhaps he is. But this time… the villain will be mine."
Her fists tightened until her knuckles whitened. She could already see the paths unfolding—choices, dangers, betrayals yet to come. But unlike before, she held knowledge none could steal from her.
If the so-called righteous dared to play their game again… she would burn the board itself.
A cold smile lingered on her lips as she rose, her rebirth sealing itself in her bones.
From the ashes of betrayal, Seraphine Veyra had awakened.
And the world would learn to fear the bride who belonged to the villain.
Power. Survival. Revenge.
The words were a vow, sealing themselves into my bones like a blood oath.
But before the weight of that promise could settle, a sudden chill prickled across my skin. The air thickened, charged with spiritual energy so sharp it was almost painful. My new body's instincts screamed in recognition.
Someone was approaching.
And not just anyone.
The footsteps echoed in perfect rhythm, slow and commanding, each step thrumming like war drums. My pulse leapt. That presence—dark, oppressive, yet intoxicating—belonged to only one man.
Kael Darius.
The sect's heir. The untouchable genius. The man who had destroyed countless rivals with a flick of his hand.
And the man Seraphine Veyra—I—was destined to marry.
The heavy doors creaked open, and the temperature in the chamber seemed to drop another degree. Shadows stretched long across the marble floor as a tall figure entered. His robes, woven with threads of obsidian and silver, clung to his broad shoulders, rippling faintly with suppressed power.
His eyes—storm-gray, sharp enough to cleave through lies—fell upon me.
For an instant, my throat tightened. He was devastating, carved from fire and steel, the embodiment of dangerous beauty. His aura was suffocating, pressing down like the weight of a mountain. Yet beneath the frost, there was something deeper—a feral heat that struck me like a blade.
Kael Darius, in the flesh.
His gaze narrowed as if he were dissecting me, hunting for weakness. "You should not be awake." His voice was deep, velvet over steel, carrying both command and suspicion.
I forced my lips into a slow, wicked smile, even as my heart pounded.
"Oh?" I purred, tilting my head, letting a strand of midnight hair fall artfully across my cheek. "And what would you have preferred, Kael? For me to stay unconscious… helpless… at your mercy?"
For a fraction of a second, his eyes darkened—whether with irritation or something more dangerous, I couldn't tell. But that moment was enough. I had thrown him off balance, if only slightly.
Inside, my thoughts burned.
This was it. The beginning of the game.
And if I wanted to survive in this borrowed body, I would need to play it better than Seraphine Veyra ever had.
I straightened instinctively, heart pounding in my chest—not with fear, but with the dangerous thrill of being scrutinized by the man who had once been my downfall.
In my past life… Kael Darius had despised me. The villainess. The thorn in his path. The one destined to fall.
But this time… things would be different.
"Seraphine." His voice was deep, measured, and far too smooth, though it carried a steel edge. "You should not be standing. The poison should have left you bedridden for days. Unless…" He tilted his head slightly, studying me with unnerving precision. "…something has changed."
I forced my lips into a faint, mocking smile. "Perhaps death doesn't suit me, Kael. Did you come here expecting to find me weeping? Broken?"
His jaw tightened, but the faintest flicker of surprise crossed his features—gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
"I came," he said slowly, "to ensure you were still alive."
How noble. I almost laughed, but instead I let my gaze sharpen. "Concern from the great heir? That's new. Don't tell me you've grown fond of me overnight."
That earned me a dark look. "Don't test me, Seraphine. You know very well I don't entertain lies."
Ah. There it was—the domineering Kael I remembered. Cold. Unyielding. A man who would rather drag me through the dirt than admit he cared.
And yet… as his eyes lingered on me a fraction too long, as though searching for cracks in my composure, I saw it. The faintest hint of conflict.
This time, I would use it.
"Then don't accuse me of weakness," I countered smoothly. "I am still here. Stronger than you expect."
His aura flared, dark energy rippling in the air between us. I should have been crushed under the weight of it—but instead…
Something inside me stirred.
It was like a spark in the core of my being, sudden and sharp, racing along my veins with fiery heat. My cultivation—dormant, sealed within this body—reacted violently to his oppressive energy. It rose unbidden, clashing against his, creating a subtle hum in the chamber.
Kael's eyes narrowed instantly. "What did you do?"
I gritted my teeth, trying to steady my breathing. The surge was wild, too raw, too sudden. It was as if my rebirth had unlocked something in this body, something it had never possessed before. Power thrummed beneath my skin, wild and intoxicating.
"I…" I drew in a sharp breath, forcing the energy down. "…am not the same woman you thought you knew."
For the first time, I saw Kael falter. Just slightly. His brow furrowed, his lips parting as though he wanted to demand answers—but then he masked it behind his usual wall of cold indifference.
"You're playing a dangerous game." His voice was lower now, edged with something I couldn't quite place. Warning? Or curiosity?
I stepped closer, defiance glinting in my gaze. "And you, Kael Darius, have always liked danger more than you admit."
The air between us crackled, charged with tension. His hand twitched at his side, as though restraining himself from reaching out—whether to strike me down or pull me closer, I couldn't tell.
But before either of us could move, a shift in the atmosphere sliced through the charged silence.
A whisper. A disturbance.
The faint sound of fabric brushing against stone.
My instincts screamed—too late.
I caught the glint of steel in the mirror's reflection. A blade, arcing toward me from behind, its edge hungry for blood.
My body tensed. Kael's eyes widened.
And in that heartbeat—between survival and death—everything fractured.