"Cathy, do you have no shame? How many times must I turn you down? Even if you offered me every precious jewel in the universe, I still wouldn't spare you another look!" The man's derisive voice reached Cathy Jenkins' ears. With a sudden gasp, she startled awake. Where had she ended up? Her last clear memory was staying late at the office, working until midnight. Could she have died while working? When she looked around, she found herself in an opulent banquet hall, with elegantly dressed strangers gathered all around her. Holding champagne flutes, they watched her as though enjoying a spectacle. "What an embarrassment. Princess Cathy is practically begging for Mr. Campbell's attention." "See that present he tossed onto the floor and crushed underfoot? Isn't it an exceptionally rare blue diamond?" "And what difference does that make?" another guest said sneeringly, slowly swirling a drink. "Mr. Campbell needs a female whose pheromones can calm him, not a handful of worthless stones! His heart belongs to Princess Melody. What chance does Cathy think she has?" "Well, what else can anyone expect from a female who hasn't even awakened her pheromones?" Cathy looked at the speakers in confusion. What on earth were they discussing? Why did everyone keep addressing her as Princess Cathy? And why was everyone talking about pheromones in the first place? Suddenly, unfamiliar memories rushed into her mind, bringing such intense pain that she nearly cried out. Damn it. Somehow, she had been transported into the novel she had read just last night—a story about interstellar werecreatures—and had occupied the body of a villainess with her own name. The population in this universe was wildly disproportionate, with just one female for every ninety billion males. The old "Cathy" was born into the Holy Starshine Empire's legitimate royal bloodline. By all rights, the entire universe should have cherished and pampered her. Yet her inability to awaken her pheromones had instead earned her widespread disdain. According to the story, the old "Cathy" had been obsessively chasing after Lachlan Campbell, although his affections were reserved entirely for her younger sister, Melody Jenkins. At Lachlan's birthday celebration tonight, the old "Cathy" was destined to pursue him so persistently that she would make a complete fool of herself before everyone. Eventually, Lachlan would poison the old "Cathy" to secure Melody's rise to power. Standing in front of her, Lachlan wore a showy, deep-red formal suit. Her lowered head and unwillingness to answer him only made him look down on her more. He deliberately spoke louder, eager to demonstrate to the assembled nobles just how completely he controlled the princess. "You've wrecked my birthday celebration. Do you honestly expect me to forgive you just because you apologized?" He stopped briefly, letting his words sink in. "All right, then. Kneel and plead for my forgiveness. If I'm feeling generous afterward, perhaps I'll grant you a single date." For a moment, the entire banquet hall fell quiet. With hundreds of people staring at her, Cathy at last lifted her head. One eyebrow rose, and her beautiful face showed neither warmth nor the slightest hint of fear, as she slowly advanced a step toward him. "W-what do you think you're doing?" Lachlan felt inexplicably uneasy at the sudden change in her demeanor. Wasn't she supposed to be helpless? Why did her presence suddenly intimidate him? Without changing her expression, Cathy fixed her gaze on him and abruptly slapped his face. The smack resounded throughout the banquet hall. She had struck him with every ounce of strength she possessed, knocking him off balance. Lachlan's cheek quickly swelled, leaving the distinct marks of her fingers. He faced her again, holding his cheek in disbelief. "How dare you slap me?" Previously, even his worst insults had never prompted her to speak up in her own defense. Yet here she was, slapping him with the entire gathering watching. "I slapped you, and that's that. What are you gonna do about it?" Cathy flexed her sore hand before looking at him with undisguised disgust. "Cathy!" Lachlan barked between tightly clenched teeth. The nobles' jeers behind him felt almost like a second slap across his face. Furious beyond restraint, Lachlan launched an attack using his spiritual power. A startled gasp swept through the crowd. But before the assault could do her serious harm, a subtle cedar fragrance spread through the room. Everyone went still. That scent clearly signaled the awakening of spiritual power. An immense surge of energy then burst outward from Cathy. Lachlan's expression gradually turned to outright horror. What on earth was going on? Why could he no longer summon his spiritual power? The force radiating from Cathy kept pushing against him until the pressure seemed to reach his very soul. Her high heels made crisp clicking sounds against the crystal-tiled floor. "You expect me to kneel down and beg? Who exactly do you think you are, Lachlan Campbell? I'm a royal princess, and you have no right to demand that I kneel before you." Bending toward him, she seized his chin firmly. Her long, wavy red hair fell across her collarbones. Now that her ingratiating expression was gone, her stunning face seemed even more captivating. Her spiritual power pressed harder and harder against Lachlan until he could no longer endure it, and his spiritual self finally gave way. Following a harsh, drawn-out hiss, Lachlan abruptly reverted to the form of an enormous gray-green lizard and crumbled down on the floor. Panicking, he shed part of his tail, which twisted and thrashed against the polished crystal floor. In disgust, Cathy took a silk handkerchief from a nearby server's tray and thoroughly wiped her hands. "So all this time, you were nothing more than a lizard. How revolting." She casually tossed the handkerchief onto his severed tail and left the banquet hall. The assembled nobles remained speechless with shock, hardly daring even to breathe.

Cathy hurried into the royal hovercar, but before she could fully make sense of her situation, it had already pulled up outside the Starlight Palace. The entire journey had taken only ten minutes. The door opened automatically. Damn technology. She really could have used a longer ride. Cathy stepped out reluctantly, then looked up and caught her breath. The memories that came with this body had shown her the palace countless times, but seeing it with her own eyes felt completely different. Starlight crystals covered the dome overhead, making it look as though a piece of the night sky had been brought down to line the ceiling. Elaborate carvings filled the palace, and every detail reflected the extravagant wealth of the Holy Starshine Empire. "Welcome back, Princess Cathy." The voice was deep, but the coldness behind it made the greeting sound anything but welcoming. Cathy stopped and raised her eyes as a tall, lean figure stepped out from the corridor. He wore a perfectly tailored uniform with gold fringe hanging from his shoulders. His face was almost unfairly handsome, with a straight nose and an expression that made him look like someone who had never enjoyed taking orders from anyone. Dominick Haynes. The name immediately surfaced in her mind. He had once been a brilliant scientist at the Royal Research Institute, and he had been on his way toward a promising career. Then the old "Cathy" took an interest in him and forced him to bond with her. Cathy pressed a hand against her head as another wave of memories came rushing back. How had she forgotten about this? Having a younger sister who hid murderous intentions behind a sweet exterior was already enough of a problem. Now she had to deal with three mates waiting inside the palace, and every single one of them hated her guts. Cathy stayed where she was for a moment and sorted through the memories again. The original "Cathy" had three werecreature mates, and Dominick, who stood in front of her, also served as her steward. His beast form was a Dark Serpent. That detail immediately caught Cathy's attention, and curiosity made her look at him more closely. His royal steward's uniform fitted neatly over his broad shoulders, while the trousers emphasized his long, straight legs. Every silver button had been fastened all the way up to his throat, giving him a strict and distant appearance. Still, nothing about him suggested that his beast form was a Dark Serpent. Dominick caught her looking at him. His expression turned colder, and disgust flashed across his face before he quickly hid it. Cathy noticed anyway. Instead of taking offense, she twirled one of her fiery red curls around her finger and thought about everything she remembered. Of course he hated her. Dominick had once been one of the brightest talents at the Royal Research Institute. Unfortunately, his looks had invited trouble. The old "Cathy" had wanted him the moment she saw him, so she used her privileges to force him into becoming one of her mates. His promising career as a young scientist had ended there. Instead, he had been kept inside the palace as a steward and forced to serve her. Dominick was a powerful male, and he had more than enough pride to resent what had happened to him. However, royal authority gave him no room to refuse. All he could do was put up with it and keep his hatred buried. Once Cathy remembered those parts of the novel, she stopped staring and walked past him into the main hall. She wasn't going to pretend a few kind words could fix what the old "Cathy" had done. Dominick had every reason to despise the old "Cathy," and one pleasant conversation wasn't going to erase years of resentment. Maybe dinner would be a better place to start. Bright lights filled the palace dining room. Cool white light spread across a mahogany table that stretched more than thirty feet long while Cathy cut into the steak on her plate. Dominick remained beside her and attended to the meal with a blank expression. Neither of them said a word. Cathy's stomach was starting to hurt from the tension. She wasn't used to being watched while she ate, especially by someone who looked at her with that much hostility. His cold, almost anguine stare sent a shiver through her. Then again, he was a serpent. Cathy finally dropped her knife and fork onto the plate with a sharp clatter. After wiping her mouth with her napkin, she pointed toward the empty chair across from her. "Sit down and eat with me." She kept her voice casual, but it still came out like an order. Dominick stopped just as he was about to refill her wineglass. For the first time, uncertainty slipped through his usually controlled expression. Eat with her? Dominick frowned. Suspicion immediately set in. Recently, Cathy had spent most of her time chasing after Lachlan. Whenever things didn't go her way, she returned to the palace and vented her anger on him. Sometimes she hit him. Other times, she hurled insults at him until she had had enough. When she wasn't angry, she hardly seemed to notice he existed. And now she suddenly wanted him to sit at her table. What was she planning to do to him this time? "Your Highness, I can't do that," Dominick responded as he lowered his gaze. His voice remained cool. "I'm your steward. I'm not supposed to eat at your table." "I said sit down. Don't argue with me." Dominick's body stiffened at once. He hesitated for a few seconds before pulling out the chair and taking a seat. Even then, he kept his eyes on the table and left the cutlery untouched. Cathy let out a quiet sigh to herself when she saw how guarded he was. She didn't push him any further and simply finished the rest of her meal in silence. Later, Cathy returned to her lavish bedroom. She had barely taken off her jacket and tossed it onto the sofa when the door creaked open. Dominick walked in with a black velvet tray in his hands. Cathy glanced at it with curiosity, but the moment she saw what was lying on top, she instinctively pulled back. It was a long whip covered in barbs. Dominick stopped in front of her before dropping heavily onto both knees. He bowed his head, then lifted the whip above him with both hands. "Your Highness, please punish me," he said in a flat voice.

Once Cathy realized what was going on, she nearly felt sick. Dark, dried blood still clung to the whip. Her stomach twisted at the sight, and a wave of nausea hit her. What the hell had been wrong with the old "Cathy?" So she couldn't produce pheromones. That didn't change the fact that she was still a princess of the Holy Starshine Empire. Being insecure about it didn't give her the right to torture people. For the first time, she thought the old "Cathy" might have deserved her fate in the novel. "Get that thing out of here." Cathy turned her face away in disgust. "I'm not using it today, and don't bring it into my room again." Dominick didn't move. His hesitation got on her nerves, and Cathy's voice grew firmer. "Throw it away. Now." Dominick's hands stopped for a moment before he slowly looked up at her. Confusion showed clearly on his face. Normally, even the smallest mistake was enough to earn him a brutal beating. Yet now she was telling him to get rid of the whip altogether? Had she come up with some new way to punish him? "Understood," he answered. He lowered the whip and pressed one hand against his knee before rising to his feet. He still looked cautious as he headed toward the door, almost as though he expected Cathy to stop him at any second. But she didn't say another word. A quiet scoff escaped him. Maybe the princess was simply in a good mood today. Before he could leave, a sharp ringing suddenly filled his head. He stumbled, and his knees nearly gave out beneath him. His first thought was that Cathy had done something to him again. Then heat surged through his lower abdomen, bringing a rush of arousal that was far too familiar. He immediately understood what was happening. "Damn it. Why now?" he murmured. "Hey, what's wrong?" Cathy asked as she quickly walked toward him. She had barely reached out to steady him when Dominick jerked away from her. "Don't touch me!" His voice came out rough and strained. The feverish heat had already begun spreading through the rest of his body. Cathy froze and stared at him. Dominick had one hand clamped tightly around his collar as though he thought she might force herself on him at any moment. Then she noticed how flushed he looked, and something from the novel suddenly came back to her. "Wait... is your rut starting?" The disgust on his face was enough of an answer. A male werecreature's rut could become dangerous fast. The only thing that could calm him was a female's pheromones, but the old "Cathy" hadn't been able to produce any. Whenever one of her mates went into rut, she couldn't do anything to ease it. Instead, she made things worse. She would curse at them, call them animals who only cared about mating, then grab the whip and beat them. The old "Cathy" responsible for all of that was gone now. Unfortunately, she was the one left dealing with the damage the old "Cathy" had caused. Just thinking about it made her head hurt. "Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to hit you." Cathy lowered her voice, hoping he would believe her. Dominick was already too far gone to process what she was saying. Each wave of arousal hit harder than the last, leaving his thoughts muddled and his breathing short and uneven. He bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, but even that wasn't enough to stop the strained sounds slipping from his throat. His control was falling apart. The spiritual space was killing him. For one desperate moment, he even wondered if ending his own life would be easier than enduring another second of it. Then a scent drifted toward him. Cedar. It was faint, but it was coming from Cathy. Was he imagining it? The scent was cool, clean, and unexpectedly gentle. It cut through the torment inside him like rain falling after a long drought, easing the unbearable heat that had been tearing through him. His rut had already taken over, leaving little room for conscious thought. He moved toward Cathy on instinct and buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent as though he desperately needed more of it. "Hey, what are you doing?" Cathy immediately went stiff. Dominick didn't seem to hear her anymore. His usual cold, defiant look was gone, and his eyes had turned hazy and unfocused. His tongue brushed carefully across her forehead before slowly moving lower. When he reached her lips, he kissed her roughly. His other hand reached toward her breast. The moment his fingers met the fabric of her gown, frustration crossed his face. Without thinking, he tore the fabric out of the way. Cool air hit Cathy's chest, and she stared down in disbelief. Before she could recover from the shock, Dominick had already leaned closer on instinct. His cool mouth closed over her nipple. Cathy quickly covered her mouth to hold back a moan. She reached out to push him away, but her fingers accidentally brushed against the gland at the back of his neck. The instant she touched it, her vision suddenly distorted. A shadowy figure appeared behind Dominick, surrounded by an aura so powerful that it made her freeze. It was an enormous, thick-bodied serpent covered in hard black scales that carried a cold sheen. Its crimson eyes locked onto her, and the narrow vertical pupils made its stare even more intimidating. Cathy drew in a deep breath. She saw Dominick's spiritual self.