Time flew by.
In just a week, Katharina had adapted surprisingly well to life at Moonstone Mansion.
From a complete novice, she'd become an advanced beginner, now well-versed in the basic use of both smartphone and table. Whenever Alexander came into her room to drop off her meals—since she refused to dine downstairs—he always found her absorbed in one of the devices.
Speaking of him, he never missed a chance to probe into her past under the guise of innocent curiosity.
From the moment she first laid eyes on him, to the almost desperate way he'd schemed to keep her here and then, realizing that this manor had been built directly over her crypt, Katharina knew he had an agenda.
But she didn't mind.
She had one too.
The modern world was far more intriguing than she expected. So, pending the time she returned to slumber, she was willing to turn a blind eye as long as their actions didn't cross her bottom line.
But that wasn't the only reason she stayed.
Placing the phone on the bedside table, Katharina got off the bed and walked over the window. Then, she parted the curtains and pushed it open.
The cool morning breeze rushed into the room, carrying with it the sounds of sparring from the training grounds. Before her stretched a magnificent sight of green fields, misty valleys and towering mountains.
But her attention wasn't on the view.
She stretched out her hand and closed her eyes.
Since the moment she awakened, Katharina had sensed something different in the air. Something unsettling. That feeling had only grown stronger after leaving the crypt.
Magic—the very essence that one pulsed through the world, strengthening the supernatural races—had weakened.
So faint now, it felt as though it was on the verge of dissipating at any moment.
Her eyes opened slowly, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Yes.. this world was indeed far more interesting.
Just then, her keen ears caught the sound of familiar footsteps approaching her door. A heartbeat later, there was a knock.
In a blink, the smirk on her face disappeared and her expression smoothed into indifference.
"Come in."
There was a faint creaking sound as Alexander pushed the door open and stepped inside, carrying a tray with her breakfast.
"You are not on the phone today?" he remarked with a raised eyebrow, when he saw her standing by the window.
Katharina turned around, her gaze falling on the tray with a covered plate and a red wine bottle.
The scent of grilled steak and thick gravy—so heavily spiced it was if the chef feared she lacked a sense of taste—wafted towards her.
The corners of her lips twitched slightly.
Seven days.
For seven consecutive days, she had been served this exact same meal—aside from the very first night when she'd been offered something far worse: a goblet of fresh animal blood.
The memory of that thick and foul-smelling liquid still made her stomach churn.
At first, she had endured, because while knowing fully well Alexander was testing and cautiously probing her bottom line by doing all this, she was also curious as to how far he planned to push her.
But now… she was done playing along.
"You don't have to bring me any more meals," she said, her usually cool voice now tinged with annoyance.
At her words, Alexander's expression shifted from blank confusion to realization.
"You mean… you'll be joining us downstairs?"
Katharina's eyes narrowed. So he was going to play dumb?
"Since you clearly have trouble understanding, let me spell it out for you—I'm no longer interested in playing games with you, so there's no need to prepare anything for me from now on."
It was the longest sentence she had spoken since awakening, so Alexander was keen enough to realize that her annoyance had finally reached its peak.
Katharina was right. He had been probing her, cautiously testing her limits. But there was another reason—one he hadn't admitted even to himself.
He wanted to see her react.
To piece through that cold, unbothered mask she wore like a second skin.
To draw out something—anything—beyond her perpetual apathy.
So against his better judgement—and Jaxon's advice—he'd gone ahead and continuously provoked her.
Now, he could be considered to have succeeded. Barely.
Without a word, he stepped forward and placed the tray on a table in the west corner of the room. Then he turned back to her and bowed slightly, sincerity written across his face.
"If this is about the repeated meals, I apologize for my poor hospitality. But I hope you'll hear my excuse— I mean, my reasons first."
The corner of Katharina's lips twitched at his slip of tongue.
So he did know that whatever he was about to say would be nothing but an excuse. He really was quite self-aware.
A faint glimmer of amusement danced in her eyes. "Oh?"
Taking it as permission, Alexander continued smoothly.
"After you rejected the goblet of animal blood and with no access to human blood, I wasn't sure of what else to offer. This was because most vampires I've encountered couldn't stomach anything else, finding them bland and repulsive."
"But then I remembered one of my father's old friends. He was also a vampire."
"Whenever he visited, my father always had this same meal—red wine and steak—prepared, which he ate with relish."
"He was the best reference I had, so when you didn't reject it the first time it was served, and given that I still didn't understand your dietary needs, I figured it was better to go for consistency, rather than experiment."
He offered a small, apologetic smile.
"Still, it was my fault. I wasn't being considerate enough."
As she listened to his excuse, or rather, his reasons, Katharina's expression slowly turned strange.
By the time he finished, she finally couldn't resist asking, her usual reticence temporarily set aside.
"Why didn't you think to ask about my preferences?"
The response Alexander gave was unexpected. "I did ask."
"The first time I brought the meal, I asked if there was anything you'd prefer instead. But you didn't respond. I tried again a few times, but you always ignored me. So I naturally assumed that you were fine with it."
Katharina pause.d Now that he said it, she vaguely recalled those moments. But because he was always chattering away—often asking questions she had no intention of answering—she'd gotten into the habit of tuning him out.
Realizing she was partly to blame for the situation, Katharina figured that since she'd be staying here for the foreseeable future, there was no need to make herself more uncomfortable than she already was.
So, she glanced up at Alexander and said, "I'm not a picky eater. You can serve anything that's available."
Alexander looked visibly surprised.
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything," Katharina met his gaze and confirmed.
A heartbeat later, her nose wrinkled slightly. "Anything, except foul smelling animal blood."
"No human blood either. I prefer to choose my own prey."
As she said this, her gaze slid to his neck, lingering there until Alexander felt a phantom sting, reminiscent of their first meeting when her fangs had sunk into his skin.
When her eyes met his again, she was met with something sharp and feral.
This was the real him—a real wolf through and through—not the housecat he was pretending to be, she thought.
A second later, Alexander lowered his eyes and turned around to retrieve the tray. Without looking back, he said softly, "I'll have something else prepared."
Then he left.
When the door closed with a soft click, all traces of emotion instantly vanished from Katharina's face.
She walked over to the bed in silence, picked up the smartphone and resumed what she'd been doing.