Evan Hudson had lived through two past lives and still couldn’t escape marrying me.
The third time around, he gave in.
He didn’t abandon me in the snow-covered outskirts just to rush back and save my sister.
He didn’t look at the birthmark at the corner of my eye with disgust and call it “a sign from God to mark me.”
He rose from the gutters of the slums, covered in frost and scars, collapsing at my feet, waiting for me—just like the last two times—to pick him up and bring him home.
Only this time, fate had a sense of humor.
It wasn’t me who helped him up. It was my sister.
I, on the other hand, found a scrappier, filthier street rat lying in the dirt—and I smiled and said I’d take care of that one instead.
Evan stared at my hand as it reached past him. His face was frozen in disbelief, like he wanted to cry—but didn’t dare.
It was one of those gray winter days where the sky looked like it might collapse under the weight of snow.
A scout rode back ahead of us, shouting that the river had frozen over. We weren’t getting through.
Tia sighed, brushing my sleepy face inside the carriage, then lifted the curtain.
“Find a nearby inn,” she instructed. “Jenna’s exhausted.”
I climbed off her lap and leaned against the window, watching the snow swirl down like it was freezing the clouds mid-air.
In the distance, homeless people curled up in makeshift shelters, trembling under the wind. Some merchants were kind enough to toss over scraps left by customers.
The beggars dove for it like starved wolves.
Except two.
One stared at the mess with disdain. The other couldn’t even lift himself up—too weak, too cold, buried in his tangled hair and rags.
Tia reached over, covering my forehead, and called for Nanny Rose to bring my fur-lined headwrap.
“This wind’ll put you in bed for a week,” she muttered, wrapping me like a damn pastry before letting me step out.
And the moment my boots hit the ground, a body crashed at my feet, yanking my cloak with enough force to almost drag me down.
“Oh God!” Tia lunged forward, clutching me protectively as she scowled at the collapsed figure.
Nanny Rose peeked over and gasped, “Poor lad’s been whipped raw. Look at those bruises…”
Tia, ever the bleeding heart, looked around at the sea of misery and called for someone to set up a soup line. Then she turned back to the boy still clutching my cloak like it was life itself.
I didn’t offer my hand. I just watched.
Then I asked, “So, are you really gonna bring home this filthy little stray?”
The boy’s eyes fluttered under bruised lids.
Tia gave a tight smile and tugged at my cheek. “Jenna, watch your mouth. Doesn’t matter who someone is—they deserve dignity.”
She paused. “The army barracks are recruiting orphans again. Maybe it’s a sign we should help.”
I rolled my eyes and bolted toward the beggars’ camp, pointing at the skinny, awkward kid huddled in the shadows like I’d found my prize.
“If you get one, I get one too! I want that one!”
No one else noticed.
But I did.
That boy who’d been playing dead at Tia’s feet—the moment he heard my voice—his eyes flew open in shock.
The look on that boy’s face confirmed what I already suspected.
He was Evan Hudson. The one from my dreams.
I’d been seeing him in flashes for months now, like some cursed novel unraveling in my sleep.
In that dream, I was a bratty little sister with a birthmark that “ruined” my pretty face—vain, spoiled, always chasing what wasn’t mine, including my sister’s crush, Evan.
He hated me.
Left me to die alone in the woods.
Mocked my looks until I smeared poison creams to cover the birthmark, destroying my skin.
He made me a walking joke.
Still, I begged to marry him.
In two lifetimes, no matter how badly he treated me—I couldn’t stop myself.
But not this time.
The moment I heard our scout mention the river was frozen, I knew the timeline had reset.
And when I peeked out of the carriage and saw that familiar broken boy—
I grinned.
I wasn’t scared. I was intrigued.
If Dream-Me was stupid enough to love someone like him, then Real-Me would make sure Evan Hudson lost everything.
I glanced down at the boy I’d brought home.
He was still unconscious, fingers twitching in his sleep like he couldn’t rest.
I reached over and held his hand.
He relaxed.
Good.
I was going to raise this one—Asher Cole—into someone even stronger, smarter, more dangerous than Evan ever dreamed of being.
Let’s see how he likes watching my sister fall for his replacement.
Let’s see how he handles losing the war, the power, and the girl.
I bet he’ll cry.
And I’ll enjoy every second.
Truth be told, I had no idea how to raise anything.
Every kitten or puppy I ever brought home ended up being cared for by Tia.
The only thing I’d ever “raised” properly was a porcelain doll.
But this time—I was determined.
I rolled up my sleeves and marched straight into the bath chamber where Asher was soaking, grabbed a comb, and started trying to tame his knotted mess of hair.
Nanny Rose came back with a water basin, saw what I was doing, and nearly fainted.
“Sweetheart, you don’t bathe a boy! That’s not proper!”
I blinked.
Why not? He was mine.
“My toy, my rules,” I said firmly.
I cupped his soaked, frozen face and leaned in.
“You’re Asher Cole now. I’m your mistress. From now on, you’ll do whatever I say.”
His pale fingers gripped the rim of the tub until his knuckles turned white.
“Say yes,” I demanded.
He stared at me.
Then nodded.
Satisfied, I grinned. “Great. Now sit still. I’m making your hair pretty.”
But as I parted his locks, something moved.
I shrieked and shoved him back.
“Ugh! Lice!”
Nanny Rose yanked me away. “Jenna! You shouldn’t be doing this—he’s filthy!”
But something in her voice must’ve hit Asher wrong.
He panicked.
He reached into the bath basket, grabbed the scissors, and started hacking at his hair like a man possessed.
Blood splattered from his face where he nicked himself, and I stood frozen in shock.
The water turned red.
He held the scissors like a weapon.
His eyes were wild.
Like a kicked pup, desperate to be wanted.
Tia ran in, saw the scene, and hesitated.
She tried coaxing me over. “You want a little playmate, Jenna? We’ll get you a cleaner one, okay?”
At the doorway, Evan Hudson stood—washed, dressed, even smiling.
I wanted to slap the smirk off his face.
Before I could open my mouth, I was yanked backward into a bony, soaking-wet chest.
Asher’s voice came out raspy and broken, but it cut through the room like a blade.
“She’s mine.”
Evan’s eyes darkened.
I turned and flicked Asher on the forehead.
“Dummy. You’re supposed to say—I’m hers.”
His eyes flickered.
Then lit up.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I’m yours.”
Because we stayed too long at the Reed family estate for our parents’ memorial, we were running late to return to Uncle William’s manor for the winter holiday. The moment the river thawed, Tia rushed us back on the road.
I wasn’t thrilled. Not even close.
Because once we returned to the White estate, I became just the unwanted second niece again—just like in the dreams.
Tia was perfect. Beautiful, composed, everything she did was elegant and correct. The adults loved her. So did our cousins. After our parents died, she stepped up and raised me like it was nothing. Everyone in the capital adored her.
And me? I had a birthmark by my eye that made people flinch, a nasty temper, and a reputation for vengeance. People only pretended to like me out of respect for her.
Eventually, I stopped caring. As long as I had Tia, that was enough.
She gave me everything. So I wanted to give her the best of everything, too.
I glanced at Asher Cole in the carriage, quietly carving a birthday gift for her. His short hair had been braided at the side, tipped with sapphire beads. His face had filled out, the cuts mostly healed, just faint red lines now. His eyes were absurdly pretty—like the moon just before it rose.
He was going to be beautiful when he grew up. No doubt.
He handed me the carved jade figure. It was cleaner, smoother than the ones he’d scrapped in the box next to him.
I examined it. “This one’s the best. It’ll be for Tia.”
He shook his head and tried to put it in my hand.
I scolded him. “How many times have I told you? Tia comes first. You give her everything before me.”
He turned away, pretending not to hear, and picked up his carving knife again.
“She already has someone who loves her,” he muttered.
Evan Hudson. Ugh.
I rolled my eyes. “Please. You’re gonna stomp all over that guy someday. He’ll be crying in the dirt while you run the show.”
Asher paused, looked up, his expression unreadable.
“Do you hate him?”
I nodded without hesitation.
He gave a strange, faint smile.
“Funny. He looks like he wants me dead. Probably because he’s in love with you.”
I recoiled, full-body shudder. “Gross. You think too much.”
The wind howled outside. The bells on the reins jingled.
We were almost to the capital.
I curled under the little quilt Tia had embroidered for me and closed my eyes.
“No one likes me except Tia,” I mumbled.
There was a long silence. Just as I began to drift off, I thought I heard a whisper:
“Is that so? Because I feel like too many people like you. So many, it makes me want to kill someone…”
I rolled over. Must’ve imagined it.
By dawn, our carriage rolled through the gates of the capital.
The White family had sent people ahead of time.
“My lady, you made it just in time! The general and Lady Patricia have been worried sick you’d be stuck up north!”
Tia’s maid, Mrs. Autumn, rushed forward to help her down.
Tia pulled up her hood, exhaled into the cold, and said, “Didn’t think it’d be snowing this hard here too…”
She turned back to me, hand outstretched.
“Jenna. Come on. We’re home.”
The White family barely glanced at me. Their eyes locked onto Evan and Asher instead, clearly confused.
Tia stepped in, gave them a soft smile, and explained everything.
Evan was the one she had “rescued.” No questions.
Asher, standing by me? Got the cold shoulder.
I was used to that.
But when I glanced at him, Asher didn’t seem fazed. He just smiled at me like none of it mattered.
We passed the gate, through halls heavy with floral carvings, and reached the warmest parlor in the estate.
Lady Patricia herself came out to greet us, tugging Tia into a hug and rubbing her hands.
“My sweet girl, you must be frozen. What a long journey.”
She didn’t even look at me.
Only said to Tia, “Your uncle says we really ought to move your parents’ graves back here. That yearly pilgrimage north is exhausting and unseemly.”
Inside, I watched Tia quietly shake her head.
“They chose to be buried near the border,” she said. “It was their wish. I failed them in life. I won’t fail them in death.”
Lady Patricia sighed like Tia had just won a prize. “Always so wise…”
I tuned out. Until someone sat beside me and said:
“Hey, Jenna. That weird short-haired boy outside—you brought him home, right?”
It was Whitney White. My least favorite cousin.
I ignored her.
She grinned, hands out. “Wanna trade? I’ll give you this pair of gold bangles.”
I didn’t even blink. “No.”
She laughed coldly. “You think pretending to be kind like Tia is gonna make people like you? Newsflash: no one gives a damn.”
She leaned in. “You could at least make your little stray worth something. Better than begging Dad and the boys to wear your handmade clothes just for them to dump ’em on the servants.”
That got a reaction out of me.
I smirked. “Fine. If you can tame him, he’s yours.”
She dropped the bangles in my lap, triumphant.
Later, she marched over to Asher and repeated everything I said.
He looked hurt.
I didn’t meet his eyes. I just fiddled with the bangles.
I didn’t trust Asher.
He was too obedient. Too soft. Too…not the person I remembered from my dreams.
How could someone hand over their loyalty that easily? It didn’t feel real.
He needed to be tested.
Tia disagreed. “He gave you his loyalty. Shouldn’t you give him your trust?”
“Once he passes the test,” I said. “I will.”
Tia placed a hand on my head like she was blessing a fool.
“He doesn’t know it’s a test, Jenna. He just knows you broke your promise.”
I didn’t get it. But Tia was always right.
The next morning, I rushed through my grooming and headed to Whitney’s courtyard.
The path was still snowy and slick. I lifted my skirt as I stepped, only to nearly run into Evan Hudson.
“Miss Jenna,” he greeted, stiff.
I ignored him.
He offered his arm. “It’s slippery. Let me help.”
I slapped his hand away. “Get lost.”
He flinched, hand falling to his side.
“What did I do to upset you so much?”
“Everything about you annoys me. Move.”
He smiled. “That so?”
Then he scooped me up like I weighed nothing and carried me across the snow.
“Put me down!”
I clawed his face. Left a bright red mark.
He didn’t care.
Just smiled with that sick, dreamy expression. “Eat more, little miss. You’ll grow up. And then you’ll love me.”
What a lunatic.
He gently wiped the snow off my shoes with his sleeve.
Then he was gone—off to try out for Uncle William’s private guard unit.
So should Asher. I had to get him.
I headed to Whitney’s side of the estate.
I expected her to be asleep. Lazy thing.
Instead, I heard her screaming.
“You dare disobey me?! Kneel, you worthless stray!”
Snow slid off the eaves and hit Asher’s shoulder in soft, crumbling clumps.
He was pinned down by three burly guards, but one knee refused to touch the ground. Blood dripped between his knuckles as he clutched a spiked training whip tight enough to cut into his palm.
The boy who always looked so obedient and soft-spoken around me? His eyes were black as hell now. Dangerous.
“I only kneel for the dead.”
Whitney actually laughed.
She’d grown up learning swordplay from Uncle William and thought she was a little warlord. Now she waved her hand.
“Bring the blade. Let’s see how long you can act tough.”
They brought it out. Not just any blade. My uncle’s battlefield sword.
“Whitney!” I stepped out for the first time and swallowed my pride. “I’m taking him back. I changed my mind.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Excuse me?”
I shoved the gold bangles into her arms and started peeling the guards off Asher, dragging him behind me.
I tossed in two jade bracelets and offered to copy her lessons for two months just to shut her up.
She let him go, grumbling something about me losing my mind.
Asher said nothing the entire walk to the training grounds. Just silence.
Tia was right. I hurt him.
I always thought I was the one getting hurt, but now… I became the kind of person who lorded power over others. It didn’t feel good.
I promised to protect him. I failed.
Like Uncle William, who swore he’d look after me after my mom died. He didn’t. And now, neither did I.
When we got to the edge of the field, Asher slowed. He gave me a polite, stiff nod.
“Thank you for escorting me, Miss. I’ll go in alone.”
The words landed like a soaked rag in my chest. Heavy. Soggy.
This whole thing was supposed to be a power play. Just a stunt to piss off Evan Hudson. I wasn’t supposed to actually care.
He was just a stray. A servant. I gave him food. A future. That should be enough.
But my stomach twisted.
Maybe it was because, besides Tia, no one else had ever treated me like I was their whole world.
Maybe I didn’t want to lose that.
As he walked off, I reached out. Two fingers tugged on his sleeve.
“…Sorry.”
My voice was tiny.
“I won’t do it again.”
The winter wind howled around us.
Asher’s face was sharper than ever, cheeks sunken from another sleepless night. His lashes were thick and damp. His eyes dropped—just shadows now.
“You already said that once.”
He looked up and leaned down, eyes dead serious.
“One more time, Jenna. If you throw me out again, I’ll be mad. Really mad.”
He cracked a smile.
“And when I’m mad? I bite.”
Like a starving wolf betrayed by his own.
I thought he was joking. He looked too damn harmless when he smiled like that.
So I laughed.
Asher made it into the unit.
People said Uncle William hadn’t wanted to take him at first—too skinny, too attached to me.
But the way he fought… He didn’t hold back. Like he wanted to die proving a point. Uncle accepted him after that.
Everyone talked about how bloody it got, so I went to check on him. He looked fine. Bandaged. Calm. Smiling.
“Wanna go see the Lantern Festival together? I got my first payday. I can treat you.”
Lantern Festival was a big deal for the White family. Everyone went out. Walked through the crowds, played games, prayed for health.
Tia always tried to stay close to me, but someone always pulled her away. Her hand would slip from mine. Every year, I ended up standing alone, staring at her back disappearing into the festival lights.
With Asher, that never happened.
His eyes never left me. His grip never loosened.
No matter how packed the streets were, he never let go.
We watched street acrobats and lanterns shaped like dragons and mermaids. The sky was a river of gold. Paper characters swayed above us like they were alive.
Asher knew all the tricks.
Sword swallowers? Smoke and mirrors. Puppet shows? Hidden wires.
“It’s all about the eyes,” he told me.
His gaze locked with mine.
“A trick only works if your own eyes lie to you first.”
He always said grown-up shit like that. Stuff I didn’t get.
A golden fish-shaped lantern floated by. I leaned over the railing to get a better look.
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