Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
In the fourth year of my marriage to Adrian Blackwood, he returned from the battlefield with a wolf girl named Lyra.
To give her a place in his house, he locked me in a ruined courtyard and announced to the world that I had died of illness.
I was pregnant when I tried to escape. The man I trusted most, my personal guard Gavin Hale, cut my child from my womb with his own hands and left me to bleed to death.
Because he, too, had fallen for the wolf girl.
I drifted above my own corpse and watched my brother arrive at the marquis’s estate—only to be ensnared by Lyra as well. He helped them conceal the truth of my death.
Only later did I learn the truth. We were all supporting players in a storybook tale. Lyra was the beloved heroine, the kind who made everyone who saw her lose their minds for her.
When I was given a second life, I found Lyra before Adrian ever could. I raised her carefully. Indulged her endlessly.
She threw herself into my arms and asked in a sweet, clingy voice, “Claire, I want to stay with you forever.”
Holding her, I let out a soft sigh. “Then help me make my wishes come true.”
Her eyes were clear as spring water.
“Who do you want to disappear next?”
The first thing I did after waking from rebirth was take Rowan and Gavin and ride hard for Southmarch.
Lyra was there—still hidden from Adrian Blackwood, still undiscovered.
Outside a ruined temple in the barren countryside stood a heavy iron cage. Inside it, a small, dark, wiry figure hurled itself again and again at the bars.
Her forehead and face were streaked with blood. Her hair hung in wild, matted clumps like dead grass. Mud and filth crusted her skin so thickly it was hard to tell what she had looked like beneath it all.
She looked nothing like the Lyra from my first life—the girl in a pink dress, glittering with jewels, blinking up at me with artless innocence as she asked, Are you Brother Adrian’s wife?
The moment she sensed my gaze, she stopped slamming herself against the cage.
Then she turned and looked straight at me, fierce and savage, her eyes full of untamed wildness.
“My lady, it’s dangerous!” Gavin said at once.
His tone was urgent, as though he feared for my safety—but his body had already moved on instinct, stepping in front of the cage.
I laughed coldly to myself.
Just as I thought.
Even in this half-starved, feral state, Lyra’s heroine aura had already begun to work.
In my first life, this very guard—the one I had trusted since childhood, the one I had treated as my right hand—had carved open my belly for her. And he had done it without shame, even righteous in his cruelty.
You have everything, my lady. Miss Lyra has suffered so much. Why can’t you give way for once?
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Rowan, the shadow guard my mother had left me, snapped immediately, “Gavin! Our duty is to protect Lady Claire, not interfere with her decisions.”
Gavin lowered his head and pressed his lips together.
But his feet did not move an inch.
I gave him a cool, indifferent glance and walked past him straight to the cage.
The figure inside bared her teeth. Years of raw meat and mountain living had left her eyes bloodshot, her whole body radiating a brutal, animal menace.
Slowly, I reached out my hand.
She froze.
Then, little by little, she grew still.
In my first life, Adrian Blackwood had coaxed her willingly out of the mountain wilds and into the Imperial Capital. Even after learning he already had a wife and child, she had followed him without hesitation.
But this time, I had found her first.
Smiling, I laid my hand gently on top of her dry, tangled hair.
“You’re human, not a beast,” I said softly. “From today on, I’ll take you back into the world of people. I’ll let you have every beautiful thing that should have been yours. Would you like that?”
I did not know whether she understood.
But her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, rubbing her head lightly against my palm.
Yet just as I began to draw my hand back and turn away, a sharp pain exploded around my wrist.
She had lunged forward and sunk her teeth into me.
Bright blood spilled from the wound in a sudden rush.
At the same instant, two swords were drawn behind me.
Rowan’s blade flashed toward Lyra in the cage.
Gavin’s, however, was pointed at Rowan—and at the space just behind my back.
I paid no attention to the clash of drawn steel behind me. Instead, I kept my voice soft as I spoke to Lyra.
“You don’t want to come with me? If you truly don’t, I’ll let you go right now.”
At that, her teeth sank in harder. Panic filled her eyes. Then she whipped her head toward Gavin, and murderous intent flooded her gaze all over again.
A pleased smile touched my lips. “I understand. Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to me, and I will never abandon you.”
Something “unexpected” happened on the journey back to the Imperial Capital.
As our convoy passed through the mountain wilds, a wolf pack attacked without warning. Four guards, Gavin among them, died beneath snapping jaws.
When Gavin died, I was standing not far away.
From a shadowed corner no one else noticed, I watched Lyra lunge forward and tear out his throat with a single bite.
His face was white with terror at the end. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but whatever it was died with him.
When it was over, Lyra turned and saw me. A flicker of fear and grievance passed through her eyes. She clutched the new dress I had given her in both fists and froze where she stood, not daring to move.
Only when I lifted a hand and beckoned did she finally relax.
“Come here.”
At once she rushed to me, all her defenses gone, and nuzzled against my arm with open affection.
After that, the rest of the journey passed without incident.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The beast handler and spare cage I had specially brought from the Imperial Capital ended up serving no purpose at all.
As long as I was there, Lyra was docile and obedient, trailing after me all day like she had no bones in her body.
Even Rowan couldn’t hide her confusion. “Could this wolf girl be like the strange creatures in those old chapbooks? Drink someone’s blood, form a bond, and obey only that one person?”
I only smiled. “Perhaps.”
Our carriage moved at an unhurried pace. From Southmarch to the Imperial Capital, we passed through thirteen provincial seats.
I had done it on purpose.
Part of it was to let Lyra see more of the world and its people. More importantly, I wanted to test that strange power of hers—that heroine aura that made others lose themselves around her.
The Ashford family had shops in every province along the way, so I sent Rowan to inspect them with Lyra at her side.
It did not take long to see the pattern.
When Lyra wore her face veil, no one reacted to her at all.
But the moment she showed her face, every man nearby would fix on her instantly. It did not matter that she was only fifteen, that her skin was rough from the wilds, that her body was thin and underfed, that there was, by any ordinary standard, nothing especially beautiful about her yet. Their eyes still stuck to her as if they had lost their senses. They stared. Followed. Yearned.
We tested it in several provinces.
It was the same every time.
Beasts are always more sensitive than people, and Lyra most of all.
She hated those greedy looks. I never had to teach her. After a few times, she began putting on the face veil herself whenever she went out.
Over the course of that month and a half, once I had taken the measure of how deeply she depended on me, I began to tame her mind.
When she did what pleased me, I praised her gently, made sweet pastries for her with my own hands, and sometimes held her.
The rest of the time, I left her with Rowan to be taught properly. Unless there was a real need, I never let myself grow too close to her.
I did not know what methods Rowan used, but a few days later, when Lyra saw me again, her eyes lit with naked longing. She lifted both arms toward me, asking to be held, and in a halting, awkward voice, managed two broken syllables.
“C-Claire…”
The journey back to the Imperial Capital took more than two months.
By the time we arrived, the rainy season had settled over the city. A thin, endless drizzle had been falling for days, soft but relentless. Lyra hated the rain. She lay listlessly across my lap, all her usual alertness gone, like a wolf forced too long indoors.
Then the carriage came to a sudden stop.
“My lady,” someone called from outside, “young Lord Blackwood is waiting for you at the city gate.”
A heartbeat later, Adrian’s voice came through the curtain.