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In a kingdom ruled by gods disguised as men, where women were vessels and beasts were bound in silk, a young woman, Vasilisa , with a tainted soul is dragged from her crumbling world into one more brutal and strange. Her name forgotten, her sins unforgettable, she is chosen by a mystical cat,—once a prince of an ancient tribe now cursed to serve. She is no queen. No saint. She is a killer, a liar, a sister who ran with blood on her hands. But the cat chose her. Because when the world needs burning, it does not call for purity. It calls for wrath. In that moment, Koschei knew: the younger girl had kindness, yes. A soft glow of purity. But the elder… the elder had rage coiled in her heart like a serpent. Not divine. Not wicked. Something worse. Something… true.