Ten minutes before the ceremony, I was turned into a cat.

Panic seized my chest as I lunged toward my fiancé, Fred—a man who had spent years boasting he could read any feline’s mood—and cried out in desperate, ragged yowls.

He only looked down at me with mild, distracted irritation.

Before I could leap again, a security guard caught me with the heavy toe of his dress shoe, kicking me hard across the polished marble floor. Pain flared through my ribs.

Whimpering, I dragged my bruised body toward the bridal suite, desperate to find my mother.

She hailed from a long, secretive lineage steeped in esoteric folk traditions and binding hexes. But when I slipped through the cracked door, she wasn't looking for me.

She was standing before Kelly—my former best friend, whom my parents had adopted as their own—her expression heavy with tender guilt. "I asked the family elders to weave the binding myself," my mother said softly, smoothing Kelly’s hair. "We aren't blind, Kelly.

Fred’s heart was always leaning toward you anyway." My father stood by the window, his voice chillingly detached. "Elise has a soft spine.

Once the hex wears off and she turns back, she won't make a scene.

She never does." My brother, Simon, stepped forward, holding up the bespoke bridal gown that had taken six months to handstitch for me. "Put it on, Kelly. Hurry.

We can't miss the vows." The air left my lungs in a cold, suffocating rush. Ever since Kelly entered our home as a foster daughter, the ground beneath my feet had steadily eroded.

When she set her sights on my bedroom, Fred packed up my belongings without a second thought.

When Simon, a celebrated haute couture designer, created oneofakind dresses, he poured every drop of inspiration into Kelly, never once asking if I wanted one.

And now, my own mother had cursed me into an animal just to hand my wedding over to her. Hot, silent tears soaked into the fur beneath my eyes, scalding the tender skin beneath.

Yet beneath the heartbreak, a sharp ember of clarity ignited. I had always lacked a sense of security.

I had always prepared a contingency plan. … Kelly drew her hand back from the silk gown as if burned.

She took a theatrical step backward, shaking her head. "No, I can't do this," she stammered, eyes wide and glistening. "Mom, please, lift the hex. I won't take her place.

I can't steal her life." Mother’s eyes softened with fierce protectiveness.

She reached into her purse, pulled out an antique emerald bracelet—an heirloom passed down through our matriarchal line for five generations—and clasped it around Kelly’s wrist.

My pupils shrank. The family treasure. I had begged my mother to include it in my dowry for years, only to be met with deafening silence.

Now, she gave it freely to a girl who had walked into our lives only two years ago. "Your mother was like a sister to me, and I owe her a debt I can never repay," Mother whispered. "Consider this me fulfilling her wish to see you married well.

You owe Elise nothing." Kelly hesitated just long enough to appear virtuous before taking the gown into her arms. "Only to save the family from scandal," she murmured, lowering her gaze. "The moment she shifts back, I'll return everything to her." Her words were humble, but her spine straightened, brimming with smug satisfaction.

They had forgotten who I was. When people push me into a corner, I don't beg—I strike. Every hair along my spine stood on end.

I darted from the shadows, leaped into the dressing stall, and unsheathed my claws, slashing straight across Kelly’s exposed arm and the delicate lace of the gown.

Silk tore with a sharp rasp. Thin beads of crimson bloomed along her skin. "Ah! Catch it! Get that beast!" Kelly shrieked. Mother rushed in, shouting in fury.

I scrambled across the vanity, sending crystal perfume bottles shattering against the tile, before Simon’s heavy hand clamped onto the scruff of my neck, hoisting me into the air. "Even as a stray, you can't behave," Simon drawled, his tone cold and mocking. "Fred paid me ten grand this morning just to make sure you stayed out of sight.

Don't make me earn it the hard way." A shiver went straight to my core. Fred and I had been together for five years.

We had promised each other forever before we even finished college. He used to swear I was his singular priority.

But the moment Kelly arrived, my life became an endless exercise in compromise. If she wanted my bedroom, Fred moved my boxes into the drafty guest room.

On road trips, I was the one relegated to the cramped middle seat so Kelly could look out the window. And now, I wasn't even allowed to choose the man I married.

Simon tossed me into a dark basement storage closet and locked the heavy deadbolt. I looked up at the wall clock. Eight minutes until the processional.

Swallowing the bitter bile rising in my throat, I squeezed through the cracked, unlatched transom window near the ceiling and slipped onto the fire escape.

Two catering staff members were smoking in the alleyway, their hushed voices drifting upward. "Mrs.

Carver is ruthless... putting a soulbinding hex on her own flesh and blood." "If the ritual goes sideways, the poor girl could stay mindless for the rest of her life." My paws trembled on the iron grate.

Ever since I was a child, Mother had used me as a vessel to test her ancestral bindings. Whenever I cried and pleaded for her to stop, she only hushed me with sweet, empty promises.

No one had ever told me the bindings carried permanent risks. Still, I didn't panic. I knew the timeline. The hex was temporary, and my body would reclaim itself soon enough.

I slipped soundlessly back into the venue's backstage corridor. Fred was standing in front of Kelly, frowning at the torn embroidery on her sleeve.

Without missing a beat, he snapped his fingers and had an assistant bring out an identical backup designer gown. Kelly gasped in delight. "Fred! You truly think of everything.

You're the best husband in the world." Fred smiled, a selfsatisfied smirk on his lips. "I originally had this tailored for you to wear as a maid of honor, but Elise threw a fit and refused to allow it." A phantom slap stung across my cheek.

When he had asked me to let Kelly wear a custom couture gown at our wedding, I had felt the ice settle into my bones. It was the first time I had ever screamed at him.

Now, the private styling team he had hired for me was gathered around Kelly, fussing over her veil and makeup.

Fred had told me he hired the city’s top stylists so I wouldn't have to wake up early on our big day. It had all been for her.

Kelly admired her reflection, a soft blush rising on her cheeks.

Mother stared at her, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You look... so much like your mother on her wedding day." "Mom," Kelly said softly, "if she's watching, she must be so happy to see you sending me down the aisle." Fred wrapped an arm around Kelly’s waist, speaking with solemn conviction: "I'll take care of her, Mrs.

Carver.

As for Elise... with those burn scars on her arms, she was never really suited to be the face of the family anyway." I shrank back beneath a rolling rack of suits, my breath catching in my throat.

Years ago, when a fire broke out at the Carver estate, I had wrapped myself in a soaked wool blanket and dragged a suffocating, unconscious Fred out of the flames.

The falling rafters had left thick, jagged scars across my forearms. When he woke up in the hospital, he had kissed my bandages and sworn he would spend his life making it up to me.

Now, those very scars were the excuse he used to discard me. The wedding planner rushed over, hastily running through the timeline. Kelly listened, looking slightly overwhelmed.

Fred waved a dismissive hand. "If she needs more time, push the ceremony back. Tell the kitchen to hold the first course.

This is a onceinalifetime day for Kelly; I won't have her feeling rushed." A heavy weight crushed my chest.

During our wedding planning, when Fred had just taken over his family's firm, he had brushed off every concern I raised about the schedule. "It’s just one day, Elise.

We can’t make everything perfect." For Kelly, perfection was the baseline. The ceremony was delayed by thirty minutes.

Fred personally brought over a cup of iced specialty matcha, unwrapping the straw and handing it to her. "I had this delivered from that boutique downtown.

Try it." Kelly took a sip and pouted playfully. "You forgot again.

I hate boba pearls." Fred chuckled, pinching her cheek affectionately. "Old habits die hard." A familiar, bitter knot tightened in my stomach. Fred used to know all my quirks.

When I couldn't find a tea blend I liked, he bought an entire distribution line to craft one for me.

When I mentioned wanting to see the northern lights, he booked redeye flights within the hour.

All of that devotion had simply been redirected. "Oh my god!" Kelly’s sudden shriek pierced the quiet hallway. "My dress!" A passing banquet server had stumbled, spilling the entire cup of iced tea down the front of her skirt.

Brown and green liquid pooled into the satin.

The server bowed repeatedly in frantic apology, but as she stepped back, her eyes caught mine in the shadows, giving a barely perceptible nod.

A cold, silent satisfaction settled inside me. Simon strolled into the room, entirely unbothered. "Relax.

Fred isn't the only one who came prepared." He clapped his hands, and two assistants wheeled in an ornate garment rack draped in velvet. My tail drooped.

My heart went completely numb. Simon was one of the fashion world's most coveted young designers.

In a highprofile interview last year, he had declared he would only ever design two wedding dresses in his life: one for his wife, and one for his sister.

For six months, I had brought him sketches, staying up until my fingers were blistered, begging for his input, only for him to tear every concept apart with harsh critiques.

He hadn't been designing for his sister. He had been designing for Kelly. Kelly clapped her hands, beaming. "Simon, you're an angel!

I didn't even dare to ask." Simon patted her head with fond indulgence. "Silly girl. You're my sister.

Of course I took care of it." The wedding planner checked his watch, sweating profusely. "Mr. Carver, we have twentyfive minutes before the auspicious window closes.

We have to move." Kelly linked her arm through Fred’s. "Don't worry, everything is under control." In the confusion, my cousin Lily slipped into the hallway.

Spotting me huddled beneath the rack, she scooped me into her arms and hurried into an empty green room.

The sting of antiseptic on my scratched paws made me let out a low whine. "Hold on, Elise," Lily whispered, quickly bandaging my paws. "Good thing you had this backup plan with the staff.

You have about twenty minutes before the binding breaks." I let out a soft purr of gratitude. Lily scowled, glancing at the security monitors on the wall. "It's sickening.

They even swapped out the welcome portraits in the foyer like you never existed." I looked up at the screen displaying the grand ballroom.

It was the penthouse hall I had dreamed of booking for over a year.

But the moment we set our date, the venue management had told me the room was indefinitely reserved for private renovations.

Now I knew: Kelly had mentioned once that she loved the crystal chandeliers in that specific room.

Fifteen minutes before the ceremony, my father walked into the bridal suite and handed Kelly an unlimited black card.

Ten minutes before, Fred knelt and kissed the back of her hand with reverent devotion. "Thank you for saying yes, my love." Five minutes before, Mother held Kelly’s hands, unwilling to let go, while Simon snapped endless photos on his vintage Leica.

Nobody mentioned my name. The heavy mahogany doors swung open. Kelly stepped into the golden spotlight, holding her train high, gliding toward the altar like an ethereal vision.

The whispers from the pews drifted through the monitors. "Goodness, she's breathtaking." "So much more radiant than the previous one.

Fred finally came to his senses." "A shame about the eldest daughter, though. Tragic accident, so young... but life goes on, I suppose." My fur bristled violently.

I had wondered how they intended to explain the sudden switch of brides to two hundred highsociety guests. They hadn't explained it. They had simply declared me dead.

I curled my paws over my eyes, feeling the damp heat beneath my fur. Through the live camera feed pinned to Kelly’s lapel, I saw Fred standing at the altar.

His eyes were redrimmed, tears spilling down his cheeks. In the ten years I had known him, I had never seen him cry. Not once. Now, he wept openly for another woman.

The ballroom was draped in unimaginable opulence. The cascading crystal installations above were private auction pieces Fred had acquired months ago.

The vintage floral urns came straight from Father’s private vault. The handwoven aisle runner was something Mother had spent weeks overseeing in person.

Every luxury I was told was "too excessive" or "logistically impossible" had been lavishly laid out for Kelly.

When the officiant began the vows, Kelly answered without hesitation: "I do." Fred paused for a fleeting second, his gaze distant, before finding his focus. "I do." Applause thundered through the hall.

My heart gave one last, dull ache before settling into a flat, icy stillness. I slipped out of Lily’s arms and padded quietly toward the service entrance behind the stage.

The final segment of our family’s traditional ceremony involved presenting a ceremonial vintage wine—an heirloom vintage sealed at birth—to the groom’s family.

A month ago, I had accidentally knocked over an aged bottle in the cellar. Mother had slapped my face, claiming it was the only birthvintage bottle in existence, a sacred relic.

Father had locked me in the ancestral hall and struck my back with a discipline cane until my skin split.

When I had screamed through my tears that I didn't care about the stupid wine, Simon had cut me off, sneering, "You think that bottle was meant for—" He hadn't finished his sentence then.

But now, the answer walked out on stage. Two staff members carried two pristine, waxsealed vintage decanters toward the altar.

Simon was standing near the stage curtains, chatting casually with a groomsman. "I thought your family's birthvintage was destroyed?" the friend asked.

Simon chuckled dismissively. "The one Elise broke was her own. We laid down half a cellar for Kelly years ago.

Fred told us to keep quiet about it so Elise wouldn't throw a tantrum and smash those too." The phantom burn of the cane across my back flared with whitehot clarity.

My paws buckled. A wave of feverish heat swept through my veins. Lily darted over, catching me just as the air around me began to shimmer. "Elise!

The shift is breaking!" When I opened my eyes, I was looking at my own hands.

Ignoring the blinding dizziness, I slipped into the AV control booth, plugged my thumb drive into the main console, and overrode the slideshow queue.

The ceremony proceeded seamlessly. No one realized the stray cat had vanished. Down on the floor, Fred and Kelly were making the rounds, clinking champagne flutes with the guests.

Fred held Kelly’s hand tightly, downing glass after glass of bourbon on her behalf. A relative laughed. "Fred is quite the protective husband!

Kelly, you're a lucky girl." Fred brushed Kelly’s hair behind her ear, his voice dripping with tenderness. "Her constitution is fragile.

I'll carry the drinks for her." Simon, already halfdrunk, smirked. "Funny.

Elise used to drink you under the table to protect your ulcers, and you never gave her this kind of credit.

You used to say, 'What kind of bride refuses a toast?'" Fred shrugged, indifferent. "That was different. Elise has a high tolerance." A hollow laugh caught in my throat.

When Fred’s stomach was ruined during his early corporate struggles, I was the one who drank glass after glass of hard liquor with investors, vomiting blood in the restroom just to secure his contracts.

To him, my sacrifice was just "a high tolerance." Simon grabbed a microphone, calling for a round of Truth or Dare to liven up the room. The crowd cheered along.

After a few rounds, Simon pointed the mic at Fred. "Be honest. What did you really think of Elise all those years?" The room fell quiet.

Fred glanced at Kelly, his voice flat and cutting. "She was obsessive. Too rigid, too calculating." Mother chimed in from the head table. "Kelly is purehearted.

Treat her well, Fred." Fred offered a mock salute. "Consider it done, Mom." Simon turned to Kelly. "Your turn, little sister.

What's one secret you've been keeping from Fred?" Kelly touched her flat stomach, her face blooming with shy, calculated modesty.

After a long pause, she whispered into the mic: "I'm... I'm pregnant." My parents gasped in sheer joy.

Fred froze for two seconds before pulling her into a fierce, breathless embrace, his eyes blazing with a wild, triumphant joy I had never seen. "I'm going to be a father!" As he bent down to kiss her lips, the heavy double doors of the ballroom slammed open.

I stepped across the threshold. The ambient chatter died instantly. A suffocating silence dropped over the room.

Gasps rippled through the pews like wildfire. "Isn't that the Carver heiress?

I thought they said she passed away?" "She was supposed to have died in an accident... why is she standing right there?" At the head table, the color drained from my parents' faces.

Kelly pulled away from Fred, gathering her skirts, and immediately dropped to her knees before me.

Her tears fell right on cue. "Elise... this wedding was always meant to be yours," she sobbed, trembling. "If you're angry, I'll step down right now.

I won't take anything from you." She played the victim so flawlessly, painting me as the cruel, vindictive monster storming in to break up true love.

I looked down at her with dead eyes, then swept my gaze across the frozen faces of my family. "If you all wanted so badly to give her my life," I said, my voice cutting through the silence, "then let's settle the bill." Mother rushed forward, grabbing my wrist and hissing under her breath, "I'll transfer you ten million.

Don't cause a scene here. Leave. Now." I shook off her grip with effortless disdain. "Ten million? Fine. Consider that my severance fee.

From this day on, I have no ties to the Carver family." Fred stormed down the dais, grabbing my arm, his eyes dark with frustration. "Have you lost your mind? Today is Kelly’s day!

If you can't offer a blessing, the least you could do is show some basic decency!" He lowered his voice, offering a sigh of patronizing pity. "You heard her.

Kelly is carrying my child. There's no future for us, Elise.

Stop humiliating yourself." I looked at his arrogant, selfrighteous face, the corners of my mouth curling into a razorsharp smile. "A blessing? Oh, Fred.

I brought the ultimate gift." I lifted the small black remote in my hand and clicked the button. The massive LED wall behind the altar flickered to life.

When the footage appeared in crystalclear 4K resolution, Fred froze, the blood entirely draining from his skin. "No... that's impossible!"