Marcus POV
The coffee mug slipped from my fingers.
I watched it fall in slow motion—dark liquid splashing across the spreadsheet I'd been staring at for sixteen hours straight. My chest felt like someone had wrapped steel bands around it and was twisting tighter, tighter, tighter.
No. Not now. Not like this.
I was only twenty-eight. I had worked every single day for the past three years without a break. Sleeping four hours a night. Eating takeout at my desk. Missing my sister's wedding because the quarterly reports were due. My boss had promised me a promotion. Just one more project. One more late night. One more sacrifice.
The pain in my chest exploded like a grenade.
I tried to reach for my phone, but my arm wouldn't move. The fluorescent office lights blurred above me. The computer screen showed 3:47 AM in glowing blue numbers. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. I was completely alone.
This is how I die, I thought, my vision darkening. Alone in an empty office, working myself to death for a company that won't even remember my name.
My last thought before everything went black was bitter and sharp: If I get another chance, I'll never let anyone control me again.
Darkness.
Cold, suffocating darkness that pressed against me from all sides.
Then sensation rushed back in a wave that made me want to scream—except I couldn't scream because my mouth wouldn't work right. Nothing worked right. My body felt wrong, like I was wearing someone else's skin that was three sizes too small.
I tried to move my arms. Something furry brushed against my face.
What the—
I jerked backward and slammed into something hard. Metal bars. I was trapped in some kind of cage. Panic exploded in my chest. Where was I? What happened? Did someone kidnap me from the office? Was this a hospital?
I tried to call out for help, but the sound that came from my throat was a high-pitched mewling noise that definitely wasn't human.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it would burst. I forced myself to breathe—slow, controlled breaths like I used to do before big presentations. Think, Marcus. Think logically.
I lifted my hand toward my face to touch it, to understand what was wrong with my mouth. But instead of fingers, I saw a small white paw with tiny claws extending from the end.
A paw.
I have a paw.
The panic that had been building inside me detonated. I thrashed against the cage bars, that awful mewling sound pouring from my throat. This couldn't be real. This was a nightmare. I was still at my desk, passed out from exhaustion, dreaming this insanity.
"Quit your whining, runt," a voice snarled next to me.
I froze. The voice was deep and growling, but I understood every word perfectly. I turned my head—moving felt strange, my neck working differently than it should—and saw a massive wolf cub in the cage beside mine. Its yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.
"You'll just make the handlers mad," the wolf continued, showing fangs that looked way too sharp. "They don't like noisy merchandise."
Merchandise?
Other voices joined in from the darkness around us. A bird's screech: "First time in the pens, little one?" A serpent's hiss: "Ssso young. Probably won't even get chosen." A bear's rumble: "Poor thing's too small. Might as well give up now."
I could understand them. All of them. Animals were talking to me and I understood every single word.
My mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. I looked down at myself—really looked this time. White fur covered my body. Four legs instead of two. A long tail twitching behind me. When I tried to touch my face again, I felt a small muzzle with whiskers.
The truth hit me like a punch to the gut.
I wasn't human anymore. I was a tiger. A tiny, helpless tiger cub.
"I died," I whispered, but it came out as a soft growl. "I actually died in that office."
The wolf in the next cage tilted its head. "You can talk? Most fresh cubs can't talk yet."
"I'm not—" I stopped. How could I explain that I used to be human? That I had memories of another life? That this was impossible? "Where are we?"
"The holding pens," the wolf said, sounding almost bored. "We're merchandise for the Contract Ceremony. Rich tamer brats come pick their first beast, bond us to them for life. If we're lucky, we get a strong tamer who'll help us evolve. If we're unlucky..." The wolf's ears flattened. "Well. Let's just say weak tamers mean short lives."
Bonded. For life. To someone else.
That steel band around my chest from my death moment returned, squeezing tight. I'll never let anyone control me again, I'd promised myself as I died. And now I was literal merchandise waiting to be owned by someone?
"No," I growled, slamming against the cage bars. "No way. I'm not anyone's pet. I'm not—"
Light exploded overhead.
Blinding white light that made me squeeze my eyes shut. All around me, the other cubs went silent. I forced my eyes open, blinking away spots, and my jaw dropped at what I saw.
We weren't in a small room. We were in a massive arena that could hold thousands of people. Rows and rows of cages lined the floor, each containing beast cubs like me. And in the stands above, hundreds of teenagers in elegant uniforms sat watching us like we were products in a store window.
A man's voice boomed through the arena, amplified by magic I could feel prickling against my fur: "WELCOME TO THE SEVENTY-THIRD ANNUAL CONTRACT CEREMONY OF SILVERCREST ACADEMY!"
The crowd of teenagers erupted in cheers.
"Today, you will choose your first bonded beast," the voice continued. "Remember—your beast's strength determines your future. Choose wisely. Choose strong. The bond is ETERNAL and UNBREAKABLE."
Eternal. Unbreakable.
Ice flooded my veins. I was going to be enslaved to some spoiled teenager for the rest of my life. After spending my human life as a corporate slave, I was going to die and become an actual slave?
The teenagers began moving down from the stands, approaching the cages with hungry eyes. They examined us like we were cars they were thinking about buying. A tall boy grabbed a fierce-looking wolf and grinned when it snarled at him. A girl squealed over a golden eagle that spread its wings proudly.
Nobody even looked at my cage.
"Too small," one boy said, glancing at me before moving on.
"Pathetic," a girl sneered.
I should have felt relieved. If nobody picked me, maybe I could escape somehow. Find a way out of this nightmare. But watching everyone pass by made something dark and angry coil in my chest. Even as a beast, I was being rejected. Not good enough. Not strong enough.
Just like my human life.
Then I saw her.
A girl with silver-white hair moved through the crowd alone. While other students traveled in laughing groups, she walked by herself. And unlike the others who looked excited, her violet eyes held nothing but exhaustion and pain that I recognized instantly.
She's suffering too, I realized. Just like I was.
The girl moved through the rows of cages, examining beasts with a strange desperation. She stopped at a massive bear cub. Reached toward it. Then pulled her hand back, shaking her head. She moved to a serpent. Same thing—reached out, hesitated, moved on.
Other students noticed her and started laughing.
"Look, it's the Failure!"
"How many beasts has she killed now? Five? Six?"
"Beast Killer Aria is going to try again!"
The silver-haired girl—Aria—flinched at every insult but kept walking. Kept searching. Something about her determination reminded me of myself during those endless office nights. She was looking for something specific. Something important.
Then her path brought her to my cage.
Our eyes met.
The arena seemed to fade away. Those violet eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my fur stand on end. She stared at me like she could see through my tiger body to the human soul trapped inside. Like she recognized something in me that nobody else could see.
Slowly, she knelt in front of my cage.
"Please," she whispered so quietly that only my tiger ears could catch it. "Please be the one. I can feel something different about you. Something ancient and powerful. I know you look small now, but I can sense it. You're special."
She knows, I thought, my heart racing. Somehow she knows I'm not normal.
Her hand reached through the bars toward my head.
Every instinct screamed at me to run. To bite. To refuse this bond that would trap me forever. But I saw something in her eyes that stopped me cold—the same desperate exhaustion I'd felt in my final moments. The same loneliness of someone who'd been used and broken and thrown away.
She wasn't looking for a pet.
She was looking for a partner. Someone to survive with.
Her fingers touched the top of my head.
Pain detonated through my entire body.
It felt like lightning and fire had been poured directly into my veins. The bond snapped into place like invisible chains wrapping around my soul, connecting me to this girl in ways I couldn't begin to understand. I could suddenly feel her emotions—terror, hope, determination, and underneath it all, a crushing weight of secrets.
The crowd's laughter grew louder.
"She picked the RUNT!"
"That tiny thing won't last a week!"
"The Failure strikes again!"
But I barely heard them. Because through the bond connecting us, I felt something that made my blood run cold.
This girl wasn't weak like everyone thought.
She was hiding something massive. Something powerful and terrifying that pulsed beneath her skin like a caged monster. And whatever it was, it was starting to break free.
Aria lifted me gently from the cage, cradling me against her chest. Her heart hammered so hard I could feel it. She turned and walked toward the exit while the entire arena laughed at us.
Through our new connection, her voice whispered directly into my mind—and the words she said made every hair on my body stand up in fear:
I'm sorry I trapped you. But we only have three days before the suppression seals break completely. When that happens, everyone who wants me dead will know I'm still alive. I needed a beast strong enough to survive what's coming.
What's coming? I demanded through the bond.
Her mental voice was cold and sharp as a blade:
War.