The awkward tension hung thick in the penthouse dining room that morning.
Renar, looking perfectly at ease, spread grape jam over his toast with slow precision. But Lethia could see past his nonchalant expression. He looked exhausted, the traces of a sleepless night etched across his face.
"I’m sorry." Lethia’s voice was firm as she absentmindedly stirred the steaming bowl of chicken porridge the robotic chef had prepared.
Renar arched a brow at her. "What for?"
"For last night." She didn’t look at him as she spoke. "I started something I probably shouldn’t have. Sorry if... it crossed a line for you."
"For me?"
She let out a quiet breath. "Hm... I did it fully aware of what I was doing, and I...I wasn’t uncomfortable with it. So, I’m sorry if that wasn’t the case for you."
Renar watched as she blew softly on the spoonful of hot porridge. Her shamelessness was beyond anything he could have imagined.
Were all countryside werewolves this bold? But oddly enough, that was precisely what he admired about her. Very few people owned their audacity so naturally, so unapologetically—as she did.
He let out a low chuckle. "Well, it’s not every day I find myself straddled and utterly unraveled in such a... reverse-dominant way. But I enjoyed it too."
"Then why do you look so bothered?"
"I’m just... not as shameless as you are." Renar smirked, teasing. "But that’s exactly what’s so appealing about you."
Renar’s words were as warm as the porridge she had just swallowed. Should she feel flattered or offended?
"That wasn’t an everyday thing for me either," Lethia said, trying to justify herself. "Like I told you, it was just part of my survival." She exhaled before shifting the conversation. "So... what’s your plan for me?"
"I’m taking you to the lab first. You need to be examined."
"Alright..."
"And you?" His gaze sharpened. "How do you plan to use me?"
Lethia set her spoon down, locking eyes with him before answering. "Help me become an executive aide in the Lykon Haven election."
Renar frowned. "Then what? You plan to bring down your ex-husband by becoming part of the election?"
"I’m not that naive," she scoffed. "But being an executive aide is the first step to knowing someone’s weaknesses, too. And... I need a job, though."
Renar found himself impressed by how she thought beyond the surface level. An executive aide wasn’t just an assistant to an election candidate—they were the ones with access to both public and classified information. The position was a goldmine for anyone seeking leverage.
Lethia had been browsing relentlessly since she woke up this morning, diving deep into everything about the Lykon Haven election.
If she wanted to take Varrel down, she needed to be inside the same system as him. And, as luck would have it, the open recruitment for the executive aide position had just begun.
"Then, you need to come with me after this. I can’t just make you a nepo-baby. Lykon Haven’s election system is all about fairness. But I can introduce you to someone who may help you pass the test."
Renar pushed back his chair and walked over to her. His fingers caught her chin, his thumb brushed away a bit of porridge from the corner of her lips.
"And... if the lab test later confirms you’re my fated mate, you won’t need to work for money," he murmured. "But knowing you, you’re not the type to sit still. This job does suit you better."
He lowered his head until his gaze leveled with hers. "More importantly, you need to do whatever you want to do."
Renar leaned in, his face so close it seemed like he was about to kiss her. But just as Lethia’s eyes widened, he smirked—and let his lips brush lightly against the tip of her nose instead.
"Let’s go if you’re done." His voice was casual as he turned and walked away, leaving Lethia momentarily frozen. She struggled to steady her heartbeat, pressing the back of her hand against her lips, wiping away any lingering traces of food.
’Damn! These pregnancy hormones are making my heart race too easily. Do they have like dopamine-control pills too here?’
Lethia and Renar made their way to Terenian Hospital, where Renar’s research lab on werewolves was located. The lab had been founded by his father with the goal of helping werewolves live more civilian lives.
The last doomsday had been triggered when werewolves lost control, turning into monstrous beasts that threw the world into chaos. The war between humans and werewolves spiraled beyond control, ultimately leading to the catastrophe.
Because of that, the Moon Goddess became enraged and abandoned the werewolves, some saying that the Moon Goddess made it hard for some werewolves to reproduce.
Centuries passed, forcing werewolves to find their own means of survival by blending into human society.
But as humanity grew more advanced, they refused to be doormats any longer, pushing werewolves to integrate and live more civilized lives.
The real problem, however, lay with the Lycans, who were far more beastly than ordinary werewolves.
Renar’s father, unwilling to see Lycans driven to extinction, established the research lab to develop medications that could prevent Lycans from losing control upon meeting their mates.
Over time, the lab had expanded, now tackling a wide range of genetic issues within werewolf biology.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Lethia underwent a series of examinations inside the lab.
Surrounded by cutting-edge technology that went beyond her imagination, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being nothing more than a lab rat, especially under the scrutinizing gazes of the scientists observing her like a specimen.
Once the tests were complete, Renar told her to wait in his office before they headed to Lykon Haven.
As Lethia wandered through the hospital corridors in search of Renar’s office, she was suddenly stopped by a strikingly beautiful young woman with gray eyes, gazing at her with pure admiration. Lethia flinched, immediately on guard.
"Are you perhaps... Miss Lethia?" The girl’s voice was timid, almost shy.