The sun hung high in the sky, bathing Central Vedelia in warm golden light. It was barely noon, yet something about today already felt like one of the best days I'd had in a long time.
Layla walked beside me, clinging to my arm with a contented smile. Her delicate fingers curled around my sleeve as her dark pink eyes flitted across the bustling streets. She took everything in—the towering structures, the lively chatter of merchants, the rhythmic clatter of footsteps against the stone pavement.
"There are so many people here, Honey," she said, impressed by the sheer crowd.
"Well, it's Central Vedelia," I replied, glancing at the massive, ancient tree in the distance. Its whitish branches stretched skyward, shimmering with a faint beautiful glow. "A lot of people come just to get a closer look at the Tree."
Layla hummed in understanding. "It's the same in Dorian. Ever since Aurora opened the Garden of Eden to visitors, people have been flocking there nonstop."
"She really knows how to reel them in," I said dryly. "At least she's smarter than her dumbass father."
Layla giggled. "I can't argue with that, Honey."
I smirked and raised a brow at her. "You sure you should be laughing at your King like that?"
She turned her head to me, eyes twinkling mischievously. "My King?" A playful smile stretched across her lips. "My King is only my Honey."
A faint heat crept up my face, and I scratched my cheek awkwardly. Layla, seeing my reaction, grinned wider before suddenly slipping her arm away. She spun around to face me, her black and pink dress flowing gently with her movement.
"Let's go on a date."
"A date?" I blinked, caught off guard.
"Of course, Honey." She beamed. "I don't have much time here. My father doesn't even know I left."
I frowned slightly. "And you're okay with that?"
Jarett Tarmias had always struck me as a strict man, but I had a feeling he was the kind of father who would forgive anything when it came to his daughter.
Layla simply waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine. Besides, we've never had a proper date before, have we? This place seems nice for a first real one." Her lips curved into a pout, resting her hands on her hips "If only we could chase away half the people here…"
I couldn't help but laugh at that.
"Alright, alright. Let's do it. But if we're going on a real date, I should dress properly first. My hotel's close by, so give me a few minutes." I gave her a pointed look. "Oh, and tell your bodyguards not to spy on us. That'd be way too awkward."
Layla let out a dramatic sigh. "Honey, you're so insufferable," she teased, stepping closer. "But I love that soft side of yours."
Before I could react, she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on my lips. The street fell into a hushed silence as onlookers stopped mid-step to gawk at us.
Still processing the sudden kiss, I barely noticed Layla tiptoeing closer, her breath warm against my ear.
"Do you want me to accompany you to your hotel room, Honey?" She whispered.
"I—I'll be fine," I muttered, quickly striding ahead before she could drive me even crazier.
Layla always had this effect on me—teasing, playful, utterly merciless.
But just as I was about to brush it off, a sharp sensation prickled at the back of my neck. My steps faltered, and I turned abruptly, scanning the crowd behind us.
"Is there a problem, Honey?" Layla asked, tilting her head with a curious smile.
"…No. I just felt like someone was watching me," I replied, eyes narrowing slightly.
Layla let out a soft, amused sigh. "Honey, everyone is watching us. I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, and you're the most handsome man in the world. It's only natural." She shook her head as if it was a simple fact of life.
I smiled, though the unease hadn't completely faded. "I guess you're right."
Still… that sensation wasn't just admiration. I was certain of it.
But for now, I pushed the thought aside and kept walking until we reached my hotel.
"Give me ten minutes," I told Layla as I stepped toward the entrance.
"Don't make me wait too long, Honey," she said with a smile, though I caught the playful warning in her tone.
As I turned away, I felt countless stares pressing down on us—particularly on Layla.
Every single man nearby was openly gawking at her, their eyes crawling over her like she was something to be devoured. It was pissing me off to say the least.
Layla was used to it, but I wasn't. And I sure as hell didn't like it.
Suppressing my irritation, I quickly made my way inside, taking the elevator to my floor. The moment I reached my room, I practically threw myself inside, shutting the door behind me with a relieved sigh.
"Finally, something interesting," I muttered with a smirk, peeling off my clothes and tossing them aside before heading straight to the shower.
I wasn't the type to sweat much, but I didn't care—I emptied half the bottle of soap and shampoo, scrubbing every inch of my body and working through the knots in my long hair.
And that hair… damn, it was a hassle to deal with.
I should've cut it ages ago, but I never got around to it. A lazy excuse, really. Back then, I was too caught up in my own head, drifting through a depressed haze like a mess of a person who just let their hair grow wild and unkempt.
But not today. Today, I had to look perfect.
Without hesitation, I grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting, trimming it down to shoulder length. The strands fell to the floor in clumps, and I ran a hand through the newly shortened locks, feeling a strange sense of lightness.
Even though I'd already showered earlier that morning, I still scrubbed my skin raw, as if trying to wash away months' worth of exhaustion.
Today was going to be different. And I had to be ready.
Stepping out of the shower, I wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at my reflection.
I had always been told I was gifted with good looks, but…
My eyes drifted down to the scars littering my body—faint white lines, deep ridges, evidence of past battles. My teeth clenched at the sight of the most prominent one: a jagged scar tracing along my jawline.
It was ugly. Unavoidable.
I sighed and quickly tied my damp hair back before moving on, brushing my teeth for the second time. Then a third. The crisp, minty burn was oddly comforting.
Satisfied, I grabbed a bottle of cologne and applied just enough—not too much, just a hint of it.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed toward my room.
That's when I noticed it.
Didn't I leave the light on when I walked in earlier?
I frowned, trying to recall, but after a second, I just shrugged it off. Probably just my imagination.
"Alright, time to pick an outfit that'll make Layla fall head over heels for me all over again," I muttered, stroking my chin.
This was usually when Cleenah would chime in with some sarcastic remark, but for once, she was either giving me space or simply wasn't around.
Well, whatever. I needed to hurry—
I didn't turn around. Instead, I instinctively rolled onto my bed, putting distance between me and the presence behind me.
A figure in the darkness.
The only thing I could make out were her eyes—white, shimmering like eerie twin moons in the void.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Then, she moved—climbing onto the bed, creeping closer.
"H–Hey, wait a second!" I yanked the bedsheet up, covering myself.
What the hell was wrong with this woman?!
"Oi… I know I'm handsome, but that doesn't mean you can just break into my room and try to assault me!" I snapped.
It was subtle, but I could tell she was processing my words. Then, her eyes narrowed even further—this time with something much colder.
A flicker of steel caught my eye.
I barely dodged in time, jerking my head to the side as the blade tore through the bedsheet, embedding itself into the mattress.
"You think pulling a knife on me is going to make me sleep with you?" I blurted out, still half-dazed by the insanity of the situation. "Are women in Central Vedelia really this aggressive…?"
"Shut it!!" She snapped, finally opening her mouth. "I'm not interested in you! Just die monster!!"
Another stab—this time aimed directly at my chest.
My hands shot out, catching her wrist before the blade could find its mark. Muscles strained as I held her back, feeling the tremor of her effort against mine.
Her breathing was ragged, filled with pure intent to kill.
Who the hell was this woman?!
And why was she trying to murder me in my own damn hotel room?
My mind screamed, but the word barely escaped my lips. Her strength was a brutal revelation, the knife's point closing the impossible distance to my eye. She was hella strong!
I put more strength and forced her movements to a standstill.
Her eyes narrowed, and she released a wave of Prana.
And then, the glow revealed them: white wolf ears, previously hidden beneath her hood.