I Cooked My Husband’s True Love

I Cooked My Husband’s True Love

Zara Thorne · Completed · 7.1k Words

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Introduction

On my wedding anniversary, I died a brutal death, drained of every drop of blood by my husband’s socalled “sacred snow ferret”. That creature was Sylvia, his longdead true love striving for rebirth. For three long years, I was nothing more than a disposable blood vessel. Even my own son betrayed me for hollow, false affection.
Given a second chance at life, I cast aside all foolish mercy. I watched coldly as my hypocritical mage husband and traitorous son doted on the ferret, and documented every one of their heinous crimes.
I turned his longawaited reunion into a boneandflesh feast.
When the Templar tribunal finally arrived to pass judgment, I broke free from the cage of my old life and stepped out toward my own boundless freedom.

Chapter 1

On our anniversary three years ago, I collapsed on the master bedroom floor, every last drop of my blood drained.

I had once believed that the "Radiant Ferret" was a holy relic Caleb genuinely intended to use to heal my fragile human body. I endured the agonizing bites night after night, the dizzying spells of raw blood loss, and the utter contempt in my own son’s eyes, all in the desperate hope of holding our family together.

Until today. When he smiled and handed that monster to me all over again, I finally understood. His so-called light was nothing but a rotting facade. And my blood was merely the fuel he needed to resurrect his first love.


"Happy anniversary, Elora."

I opened my eyes. Caleb’s face hovered above me, his hands cradling a pure white ferret.

I glanced down at my wrist. It was clean. There were no bite marks. I was back. Back to the exact day this nightmare began.

"This is a sacred beast I tracked down from the Far North ice plains," he said, offering the creature forward. "It will protect your health."

Protect my health.

In my previous life, I actually believed him. I would wipe its coat with velvet and spend a fortune on moon-grass to feed it. But it never ate the grass. It only consumed me—first my wrist, then my neck, and eventually, it spent entire nights clamped heavily over my heart. When I begged Caleb to send it away, he only frowned. "Can you not even tolerate a sacred beast?" he asked. Not a single white magic healer could figure out what was wrong with me. Three years later, I died in this very bedroom.

Now, it was right in front of me again, its snout twitching as if sniffing a piece of meat already served on a platter.

"Pet it," Caleb said.

I reached out. The second my fingertips brushed its fur, the ferret lunged. Its sharp teeth pierced straight through the fleshy webbing of my hand.

Drops of blood splattered onto the carpet.

"Don't touch it!" Leo rushed over and shoved me hard, shielding the ferret with his small body. "Your blood is going to dirty the holy beast!"

I slumped to the floor, clutching my profusely bleeding wound, staring at the son I had carried for ten months.

Caleb didn't reach out to help me up. Instead, he leaned over to inspect the ferret’s teeth. Only after confirming the creature was unharmed did he turn to me. "It's just claiming its master. Don't make such a fuss."

"It bit through my hand," I said, holding up my dripping flesh.

Caleb furrowed his brow. "Elora, I know it hurts, but you have to be understanding. It just arrived in a strange place. It's more scared than you are."

"It's scared?"

"It’s a holy beast. Its senses are far sharper than ours." Caleb’s tone suddenly softened. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Everything I do, I do for you. Your body has always been weak. I searched the entire continent just to beg for this one. You have no idea how much effort it took."

I looked into his eyes, which were currently brimming with deep affection.

In my last life, that exact phrase—I do for you—was what had successfully softened my heart.

Leo tilted his chin up and chimed in with absolute self-righteousness. "Dad said the holy beast bites because it's purifying bad things. Mom, do you have a lot of dirty things inside you?"

I froze.

"Leo," Caleb gave a light cough. "You can't say that to your mother."

"But you said it yourself," Leo argued, entirely unyielding. "You said Mom is just a commoner, and commoners are naturally dirty inside."

I stood up, cleanly wiped the blood from my thumb, and let out a light laugh. "That's right. Mom is just a commoner. I can't compare to you two."

"You don't have magic, so you don't understand the habits of a sacred beast." Caleb placed the ferret's elaborate nest on the most prominent mahogany stand in the master bedroom. "From now on, it sleeps in your room so it can protect you. I'll take care of it, so you don't need to worry too much."

"I don't need to worry?" I stared at the nest, positioned right next to my pillow.

"You just focus on getting good rest," Caleb said, pulling out a chair for me. "Leave everything else to me."

Leo cheered instantly, throwing his weight against the stand. "Can I come feed it every day?"

"Of course you can." Caleb patted the boy's head, then turned his gaze back to me. "But what it needs most is your mother's company."

I watched the father and son interact. My nails dug so deeply into my palms they nearly broke the skin, yet I kept a mild smile plastered on my face. "Alright then. I'll spend plenty of time with it."

"That's a good girl." Caleb smiled in profound satisfaction, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my forehead. "Look at us. Such a harmonious family."

How could I not understand?

On the night I died, my spirit remained tethered to this house. I watched, utterly powerless, as Caleb dragged my dried-out corpse down into the basement. Behind a hidden door lay two other sets of decaying remains. He had taken two wives before me. And I was nothing more than the product of his methodical trial and error—the only perfectly compatible Vessel Number Three.

Right after I drew my final breath that night, I had watched this very ferret sluggishly crawl down from beside my corpse.

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