Chapter 1
In my past life, I exposed my cousin Isolde's deadly secret just to save Darius from absolute ruin, binding myself to him in a Soul Pact instead.
My reward?
At three months pregnant, Darius chained me to a water dungeon altar, carved my stomach open alive, and smashed our unborn child to pieces right in front of my eyes—all as a twisted sacrifice to my cousin who supposedly "died for love."
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back at the Pact Selection Ceremony.
Watching him pull her into his arms like some priceless treasure, I simply smiled and took a tactful step back.
In this life, I am going to sit back and watch the two of them burn in hell together.
......
The Nightguard Vampires ruled every inch of Nocturna.
But these immortals, standing at the absolute pinnacle of power, bore a fatal flaw: the Ashen Curse.
The moment they bound themselves in a Soul Pact, the curse would slowly erode their sanity and sever their ability to reproduce. Unless, of course, they bound themselves to someone possessing the pure Starlight Bloodline.
My cousin Isolde and I were the only two human Holy Maidens left who possessed that pure blood.
If the Nightguard elite wanted to sire heirs, they had no choice but to pick between us.
The left side of my face was marred by a hideous dead-blood mark. In this city, being ugly was the original sin. Isolde, on the other hand, was always flawless—the pure, endlessly worshipped socialite.
His Highness Darius, the untouchable Regent Prince, couldn't even glance at me without thinly veiled disgust. He was hellbent on binding himself to Isolde.
In my past life, clinging to our pathetic childhood bond, I secretly revealed Isolde's dark secret to the Lord and Lady.
As a result, the Lord forced Darius's hand. He was ordered to bind with me, and only me.
On our wedding day, Isolde plummeted from a high tower. Everyone was convinced she chose to end her life over a broken heart.
Darius didn't mourn for long.
Nourished by my Starlight blood, he completely suppressed the curse. His reign grew absolute. Soon enough, I became pregnant with his child.
I foolishly thought that was my happily ever after.
Until the third month of my pregnancy.
I woke up chained to the altar in the sanctuary's water dungeon by Darius.
Then, without anesthesia, he carved my stomach open.
He ripped out the tiny, barely formed life that was still weakly twitching, and smashed it mercilessly against the hard stone floor.
"Valeria, you vicious wretch!"
"You couldn't stand that I loved Isolde! You spread venomous lies to my parents just to force me to bind with an ugly freak like you!"
"You forced her to her death. Today, I'm using you and this vile spawn to pay for what you did to her."
However, I had been reborn.
I was right back at the exact moment this fatal Soul Pact was being negotiated.
"Father, Mother. I will only bind with Isolde."
Darius's voice echoed through the grand hall. Ignoring the stares of the elders, he pulled a blushing Isolde directly into his arms.
"Please, grant us the Pact."
The moment the words left his mouth, he turned his head to look at me. Unbothered by hiding his usual thinly-veiled disgust, his eyes now burned with raw, naked hatred.
"I will never bind myself to this venomous, blood-stained freak! And I beg you, Father, Mother—do not believe a single word she says next! She is rotten to the core with jealousy over Isolde!"
"Silence! Watch your tone!"
The Lord slammed his hand against the table, his face turning livid. Beside him, the Lady's expression darkened drastically.
The air in the room snapped taut.
Every gaze shifted to me, waiting for my defense.
But I remained completely silent.
Darius had struck first, sealing my lips before I could even expose the truth. Because he had regressed, too.
In my past life, he made the exact same declaration. Back then, buckling under the pressure, I had the Lord clear the hall and laid Isolde's filthy secrets bare.
The Lord had forced an ultimatum on him right then and there: Keep your title as Prince and choose Valeria, or choose Isolde and get out.
Darius had practically shattered his own teeth agreeing to bind with me before slamming the door on his way out.
That night, when I returned home, I was greeted with a vicious slap across the face.
"You ungrateful little bitch!" my uncle roared, pointing a trembling finger at my nose.
My parents had died when I was young. These so-called "blood relatives" only took me in because my bloodline was a bargaining chip for higher social standing.
Now, they were ready to skin me alive.
Isolde slumped against the sofa, burying her face in her hands, sobbing pitifully.
"She's always been like this... she's always been so jealous of me. She always tries to steal what's mine."
They aggressively shoved me out the door and onto the street that very night.
I screamed at the locked door, trying to explain that Isolde's secret was a matter of life and death. If Darius actually bound himself to her, the resulting plague would bring the entire night race to its knees, and as their human vassals, my aunt and uncle would be slaughtered too.
I genuinely thought I was saving their lives.
But no one listened.
Later, when Isolde plummeted to her death, I tried more than once to tell Darius the truth.
But he always violently cut me off.
"She's dead. Let it go."
Just when I naively started to look forward to our future together, he dealt me the most fatal, bloody blow.
When my unborn child was ripped from my womb, he just stood there, looking down at me as I bled out my very last drop in excruciating agony.
Staring up at the ceiling with my dying breath, the realization finally hit me. There was never going to be a "happily ever after."
It was all just a patient, elaborate noose he had placed around my neck to avenge Isolde.
But the fool had no idea. How could a selfish, hypocritical snake like Isolde ever commit suicide over a broken heart?
Her shattered body at the bottom of that tower was purely the inevitable backlash of her own filthy secret. I was never the one who killed her.
In my last life, I was nothing but a sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered. In this life, I'm going to watch the two of them burn in hell together.
