Reborn to Destroy the Snake That Killed Me

On my birthday, my husband gave me a small white snake.

I turned around and took it straight to the herbal apothecary, where I had it soaked into a jar of medicinal wine.

Because I had been reborn.

In my last life, I'd cared for that white snake like it was precious. Fed it snow clam and bird's nest. Let it sleep in a temperature-controlled Enchanted Jade Terrarium.

And it only ever bit me.

At first, it would just coil around my wrist at night and drink a few drops of blood.

Then it began slipping under my covers, sinking its fangs into my neck, draining me night after night until my face was chalk-white.

I begged my husband to get rid of it. He turned on me:

“Bianca Lyell was my anniversary gift to you. You can't even tolerate a snake?”

My daughter threw herself in front of the terrarium, crying:

“Mommy's mean! Bianca's way better than you!”

I was drained of every drop of lifeblood and dropped dead on our wedding anniversary.

My soul didn't scatter. I lingered, and I watched the white snake slide off my corpse and reshape itself into a frail, beautiful woman who threw herself into my husband's arms.

He kissed her, eyes red:

“Bianca. Three years you had to play snake — you've suffered enough. Now that her lifeblood is yours, you can finally take human form again.”

My daughter ran over, beaming, and called her Mama.

That was when I understood.

The white snake had been my husband's first love, the one that got away, dead before her time.

And I was nothing but the blood bag they'd kept alive to feed her.

……

On my birthday, my husband gave me a small white snake.

His voice was gentle:

“Janet, I searched everywhere for this. A spirit snake, the kind that comes along once in a hundred years. She's incredibly intuitive. Keep her close and she'll calm your nerves, brighten your complexion, even ward off bad luck. Do you like her?”

Our seven-year-old, Maya Sanchez, was already pressed against the terrarium, eyes shining.

“Mommy, I named her Bianca! Isn't that pretty?”

I looked down.

Inside the terrarium, the little white snake lay coiled in a circle, her scales snow-bright, her eyes so black they gleamed.

“Mommy, pet Bianca! She's so good.”

I smiled and reached in.

The snake struck. Fangs sank into my fingertip before I could blink.

A bead of blood welled up instantly.

Maya screamed, but not for me.

She grabbed the terrarium and pulled it close, frowning up at me:

“Mommy, don't move like that! You scared Bianca!”

Sid Sanchez seized my wrist.

He checked the snake first. Then my finger.

Then he exhaled.

“Relax. She's just claiming her owner. If Bianca bit you, it means she likes you.”

I looked at him.

Likes me.

In my last life, he'd said the exact same thing.

And I'd believed him.

I was afraid of snakes.

But I didn't want to waste his thoughtfulness, and I wanted Maya to be happy, so I swallowed my revulsion and took care of it with everything I had.

I fed it snow clam and bird's nest.

I spent seven figures at auction on an Enchanted Jade Terrarium for it to sleep in.

I wiped every single scale clean with warmed silk cloth.

And it only ever bit me.

At first, it would coil around my wrist at night and take a few drops of blood.

I thought it was hungry.

Then it started crawling under my covers and piercing my neck.

Then it stopped letting go at all.

That cold body cinched around my waist, fangs buried in my flesh, drawing and drawing all night long until my skin went gray.

I begged Sid to send it away.

His face went cold:

“Janet, Bianca was my anniversary gift to you. You can't even tolerate a snake?”

Maya blocked the terrarium, sobbing.

“Mommy's mean! Bianca's way better than you!”

The sleepless nights piled up until I couldn't stand without leaning on a wall, dizzy by daylight, hollowed out.

Doctors couldn't find anything wrong.

So Sid said I was imagining things. Making it up for attention.