Ray’s POV
My heart lurched as Ovelia suddenly threw herself in front of . Without thinking, I lunged forward, my hand snapping out to catch the knife’s handle mid-air before it could reach her. With a sharp flick of my wrist, I sent it flying back—embedding it deep into the drunkard’s thigh.
"Arghhh!! How dare you, you bastard?!" the man howled, collapsing to one knee.
Good. You deserved that.
I turned to Ovelia, my pulse still hamring. She stood frozen, her entire body trembling—not just from fear, but from the adrenaline crashing through her. Her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears.
I grabbed her shoulders, my grip firm but not harsh. "Don’t ever do that again!" My voice ca out sharper than I intended, rough with lingering panic. "That knife was aid straight at your heart! You could have died!"
A tear finally escaped, tracing a slow path down her cheek. She bit her lip, fighting to keep the rest at bay.
Damn it. Guilt twisted in my chest. I shouldn’t have yelled.
Softening my hold, I cupped her face between my palms. "I appreciate that you wanted to save ," I said, quieter now. "But your life is worth more than mine. Please—value it."
Then I pulled her into a hug. She didn’t make a sound, but I felt the dampness against my shoulder, the slight hitch in her breathing.
This human had just risked her life for . If she trained, if she grew stronger... she might actually make a worthy queen soday.
Ovelia’s POV
The drunkard’s furious screams still echoed in the background, but I barely registered them. I clung to Ray, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
"Sorry," I whispered, the tears finally breaking free.
I wasn’t crying out of fear, or even because Ray had shouted at . I cried because—for the first ti in ten years—soone had made feel important. Wanted. And that realization shattered sothing inside .
Suddenly, strong arms wrenched away from Ray. Ace pulled against his chest, his embrace possessive but gentle. "Don’t try to steal my mate," he growled at Ray—though there was no real heat in it. "That’s what my wolf wants to say. But I know you weren’t planning to."
I glanced at Ray. He smirked, but his expression darkened as his gaze flicked back to the still-writhing drunkard.
"Don’t worry about Ray," Ace murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "He’s been around for ages. He could take that guy down with a chopstick if he wanted to."
I wiped my tears, suddenly rembering—werewolves lived long lives. Ray’s youthful face hid decades of experience.
But I don’t regret trying to save him.
Ray strode toward the drunkard, his movents lethally precise. One punch—just one—and the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious. The inn erupted into applause. By the ti the guards arrived to drag him away, the tension had already dissolved.
Ray turned back, disappointnt flashing across his face as the bandit-discussing group hastily left. Then, as if nothing had happened, he slumped into his chair with a dramatic sigh. "I’m starving. Can we eat already?"
My gaze drifted to Ann. She still stood rigid by the table, her fists clenched, her eyes locked on where the drunkard had fallen. When she noticed watching, she exhaled sharply, forcing a smile before sitting back down.
As we returned to our seats, the waiters cleared the shattered dishes. Laughter and chatter gradually filled the room again, the incident already fading into mory.
"So, what’d you order?" Ray asked, his earlier intensity gone, replaced by boyish eagerness.
Ace grinned. "Their bestseller—hotpot for four. With bear paw. Oh, and beer."
Ray’s eyes lit up. "Perfect. I could eat a whole bear myself." He patted his stomach, and just like that, the mood lifted—as if danger had never touched us at all.
Ray’s orange eyes softened as they t mine, his lips quirking into a reassuring smile. "Ovelia, are you okay now?" His voice was low, the roughness of his earlier anger smoothed into warmth.
I nodded, pressing my palms to my still-damp cheeks. "Yes," I whispered, surprised by how steady my voice sounded despite the storm of emotions lingering beneath.
"I’m glad to hear that." His thumb brushed away a stray tear I’d missed, the calloused pad surprisingly gentle.
The arrival of our food shattered the lingering tension. The waiter ignited the hotpot’s fla, and the rich broth began to bubble, its savory aroma curling through the air like an invitation. Plates of thinly sliced ats, vibrant vegetables, and fragrant seasonings crowded the table, but the centerpiece was undeniable—the bear paw, ticulously prepared, its surface glistening under the lantern light.
My stomach growled loudly. "There’s so much food! Do you think we can finish it all?" I gaped at the feast, my fingers twitching with anticipation.
Ray barked a laugh, already loading his plate. "As long as I’m with you guys, no food will go to waste." His grin was wolfish, and for the first ti, I understood why the term fit werewolves so well.
Ann, ever the orchestrator, began seasoning the broth with practiced hands. "Let’s awaken the flavors first," she murmured, dropping the bear paw into the pot. When she tasted it minutes later, her eyes fluttered shut in bliss. *"Perfect. Now—it’s ti to eat!"
I reached for the chopsticks, but they slithered through my grip like rebellious eels. My cheeks burned as I fumbled.
Ace’s chuckle rumbled beside . In one fluid motion, he speared a slice of bear paw with his own chopsticks and blew on it, steam curling from the at. "Here," he teased, holding it toward my lips. "Say ’ah.’"
The intimacy of the gesture sent a jolt through . I obeyed, and the mont the at touched my tongue, I nearly moaned. It lted like butter, the broth’s depth exploding across my senses. "It’s incredible!" I clutched my face, as if that could contain the delight.
"You’re a quick study," Ace praised when he guided my hands into the proper chopstick hold. His fingers lingered just a heartbeat too long, sparking a traitorous flutter in my chest.
Ray groaned, throwing his hands up. "Ann, shield . The newlyweds are already insufferable."
"We’re just friends!" I protested, though my traitorous voice squeaked.
"Just friends?" Ray’s eyebrow arched. "You’re literally married."
Ace’s smile was a slow, secret thing. "We’re starting as friends. The rest..." His shoulder brushed mine. "That’ll co naturally."
By the ti the beer arrived—frosted mugs sloshing with amber liquid—the room had blurred into a haze of laughter and clinking dishes. I sipped cautiously, the bitterness giving way to a honeyed aftertaste.
"It’s... interesting," I admitted, licking foam from my lip.
Ray leaned in. "That ans she hates it," he stage-whispered to Ace, who snatched my mug with a smirk.
"If you can’t finish—"
"I can!" I grabbed it back, gulping defiantly. The warmth pooling in my stomach was pleasant... until it wasn’t.
Ace’s voice cut through the fog as he turned to Ray. "After this, we’ll scout for bandit intel. That group left too quickly earlier."
"Noted," Ray agreed, but his gaze sharpened on as I swayed.
"Lady Ovelia?" Ann’s hand hovered near my elbow.
"Mm? I’m fi—" The world tilted. Colors sared. My mug hit the table with a *thunk* as my limbs turned to lead.
"Ovelia!" Ace’s voice cracked like a whip, but it was already fading, swallowed by the darkness rushing up to et .
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