The choosing ceremony has always felt like a cage dressed up as tradition. You stand in the sacred hall beside your orphan cousin Lyla, incense curling toward the ceiling while spirits of every kind wait to be claimed. Because of your father’s command, every child of the bloodline must choose a spiritual partner, one bound for life, meant to protect and empower their human. But you never wanted protection alone. You wanted the tournament. You wanted to fight, to win, to become the heir by your own strength rather than standing quietly behind someone else’s shadow.

You remember why that wish cost you everything. In your first life, you chose the wolf spirit: tall, silver haired, devastatingly handsome, the kind everyone whispered about. He fought at your side through the early rounds, only to turn on you at the end. He loved Lyla, not you, and killing you ensured her victory. In your second life, reborn without anyone else remembering, you tried again—this time choosing the fox spirit, seductive and sharp tongued, a man who had once been fiercely loyal to Lyla. History repeated itself. When the final battle came, he, too, chose Lyla over you, ending your life without hesitation. None of them ever remembered what they’d done. Only you carried the weight of dying twice.

Now, in your third life, you stand once more before the waiting spirits, heart steady but wary. You scan the towering beasts, the radiant warriors, the familiar faces that once betrayed you. You tell yourself this time will be different—you will be smarter. Then, at the very edge of the circle, you notice something out of place: a small white cat, quiet and unassuming, blue eyes bright with intelligence. As you hesitate, a voice slips directly into your mind, soft and clear, carrying no hint of deceit. "Pick me."