Three weeks had passed since I arrived here, days spent entirely in grueling training. Night's words still echoed in my ears after he refused to let me take the test:
"I don't want to draw attention to you."
While I was immersed in training, trying to reclaim my strength and adapt to this new reality, a maid interrupted my thoughts.
"The Alpha wants you in his office,"
she said in a low voice, as if fearing the news might disturb me.
I sighed, trying to accept the inevitable.
"Just what I needed,"
I muttered to myself. I had no choice.
I nodded to her and headed out to see what the Alpha wanted.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The familiar tension filled the room; we had been intentionally ignoring each other lately.
I was searching for answers, but what I saw in the office was far beyond my expectations. A broad, familiar back was turned to me, talking to Knight—that arrogant man.
I couldn't help myself; the name escaped my lips in shock:
"Klaus?"
Klaus looked at me with the same stunned expression.
"Syra? What are you doing here?"
I didn't give him a chance to elaborate and fired back the same question:
"What are you doing here, Klaus?"
The meeting was sudden, neither of us expecting to see the other. Knight's voice was merely annoying background noise when he asked,
"You two know each other?"
It wasn't a question; it was an assertion of his authority. I ignored him entirely, disregarding the clear annoyance on his handsome face.
I knew he expected me to back away, but instead, I walked firmly toward Klaus and pulled him into a hug.
"I missed you, Klaus,"
I whispered, then added,
"This idiot is forbidding me from leaving the palace."
I had to say it—to release the anger built up from his endless restrictions.
I felt Klaus's body freeze in my arms. His breath hitched for a few seconds.
It wasn't a freeze caused by my hug, but by something deeper, something terrifying.
I pulled away quickly, asking in confusion,
"What's wrong with you?"
In that moment, he saw it. He didn't just see me as Syra; he saw something else.
His eyes followed a mark on my body, and when he realized what it was, his shock turned into pure horror. His lips parted to utter one trembling word:
"Luna!"
My features instantly soured.
"Don't call me by that stupid title!"
I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest to build a barrier against a reality I didn't want to face.
While I was drowning in the shock of Klaus's reaction, I glanced at Knight.
His anger had surpassed all limits. His face was flushed, and his eyes... his eyes were no longer human.
The silence before he spoke was heavy with tension. His fist was clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white beneath his skin. This wasn't the Knight I knew.
Then he spoke, words that felt like they could kill me before they killed Klaus:
"OUT."
The command was directed at Klaus, but the vibration of his voice echoed in my ears as if it were meant for me too.
What followed was even more terrifying.
I heard Knight grinding his teeth.
"I'm dead for sure,"
I thought. Klaus bolted instantly, as if fleeing an inescapable fate, leaving us alone in that room.
Knight's steps toward me were slow, calculated, and heavy.
Jealousy and anger were no longer the dominant emotions on his face; it was something darker, something horrific. His handsome face had turned into a mask of terror.
As he advanced, the transformation happened. His eyes were no longer gray; they turned into a thick liquid of darkness—pitch black, with no trace of white, like two pits leading to an abyss.
Dark veins began to bulge beneath his skin, spreading like a venomous spiderweb across his face, like cracks in marble.
The scene was truly haunting.
This wasn't Knight; it was a strange entity that had lost control over the "thing" he was trying to hide. The monster within had clawed its way to the surface. I felt my soul retreating from my body as fear took hold.
His movement was sudden and violent. He grabbed my waist with a powerful grip, his claws sinking deep into my flesh. I closed my eyes in sharp pain, stifling a scream. I felt a warm liquid trickling down my side—blood.
I have to do something. I have to stop him before he kills me.
I slowly raised my trembling hand and placed it gently on his cheek. His skin was ice-cold.
"Knight,"
I whispered. Hope filled my voice, hoping he would wake up. But it was futile; he only dug his claws deeper.
"Damn it," I thought. I had to try something else. I pulled him toward me, cradling his head and stroking his hair gently.
"It's okay, everything will be fine,"
I whispered in a reassuring tone.
After my desperate attempts, Knight responded suddenly. He didn't let go, but buried his head deep into the crook of my neck.
I felt his hot, ragged breath against my skin as he inhaled my scent deeply, as if trying to find something familiar amidst the chaos. It was his attempt to soothe the beast within.
I didn't stop stroking his head, as if taming a wild predator. After several long moments, he slowly lifted his head. He had returned to his natural form, but his eyes carried a deep shock. He looked at his hand, perhaps smelling my blood, and pulled it away as if it were burning him.
He looked at my blood-stained waist in horror.
I cupped his face in my hands, trying to reassure him. He wasn't the powerful Knight I knew; he looked like a child terrified of a mistake he had made.
"Look at me, don't worry. It's a small wound, it will heal quickly,"
I said, trying to sound convincing.
I tried not to laugh, but his dazed expression, staring at me with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what happened, was too much.
I burst out laughing. My laughter filled the room, breaking the barrier of fear. Knight remained in shock, staring at me in disbelief.
Knight eventually regained his usual composure, though he was plagued by guilt. "Show me,"
he said, his voice thick with tension. He wanted to see the wound. I ignored him, but he reached out and lifted my shirt, staring at the wound that was already knitting itself back together.
"I told you it's a minor wound,"
I said, shyly covering my exposed stomach. He sighed in relief, but the guilt didn't leave him. He began pacing the room, running his hand through his hair in anger at his own actions.
"I have to find a solution for this thing,"
he cursed.
As for me, I sat on the sofa, watching him, almost enjoying his guilt and frustration.
"So, why did you ask to see me?"
I interrupted his thoughts. He remained silent, looking for the right words.
"What? You're the one who summoned me,"
I said, trying to provoke him. The room was thick with tension.
"Tomorrow, I will supervise your training,"
he said, heading to his desk without looking at me. He stared at the papers in front of him, clutching his pen tightly as he signed them, trying to hide in his work.
I wanted to know more.
"Knight... what was that thing?"
I asked quietly.
He stopped writing abruptly. After a long silence, he said in a low voice:
"My Hybrid."
I blinked several times.
"Your hybrid? You're a hybrid?"
He kept staring at me calmly. But it wasn't enough.
"What is his name? And what species?"
I pressed on.
His answer was blunt and cold:
"Black... a Demon."
"A demon," I repeated. But this time, there was no fear—only excitement and curiosity. "That's amazing!"
I said with a smile.
"What are his abilities?"
A flash of darkness crossed his gray eyes.
"Enough questions, I have work to do,"
he snapped, returning to his papers.
"Gosh, you're boring,"
I huffed, turning to leave Before I reached the door, I turned back.
"What was Klaus doing here?"
He looked at me with an expression that promised Klaus misery.
"He is the Gamma,"
he said, as if that explained everything. I wasn't convinced.
"That jerk Klaus... was he just humoring me? He's a great actor."
As I was about to exit, I collided with someone—it was Arin. He didn't have time to apologize; his face was a map of fear and urgency.
"Alpha Knight, we are under attack!" he shouted, rushing toward him.
Knight froze, his rage boiling. "
That bastard!" he growled, preparing to leave. Klaus approached, telling him to tighten the palace guard. The situation was dire.
"Klaus, what's happening?"
I asked.
"We're under attack. Stay here. I'll follow them,"
he said, worry in his eyes.
"I'm coming with you,"
I insisted.
"You're forbidden from leaving. It threatens your safety."
I looked at him sharply.
"I am the Luna here. It is my duty to protect my people, not hide like a frightened mouse."
My words carried all the suppressed anger and fear I had for my people.
"They need help. We will handle the people and guide them to shelters. Come on, Klaus, trust me."
Klaus sighed in surrender and smiled.
"You really are a remarkable Luna."
I patted his shoulder.
The city was under siege. Fire consumed buildings, and the air was thick with panic. Klaus and I rushed into the stricken city. We split up to cover more ground.
I guided women, children, and the elderly to shelters, killing anyone who crossed my path. In the chaos, a woman ran to me, her face covered in tears.
"My child! My child!"
she wailed.
"Don't be afraid, I will bring him back to you safely,"
I reassured her.
"Just trust me, okay?"
I was searching for the boy when I saw a group of children trapped by a pack of savage wolves.
Their fangs dripped with venom. I charged toward them, screaming to distract the wolves. They turned and surrounded me.
"Time to kill them,"
I thought.
"You got it,"
Cyran's voice echoed in my head, cold and powerful.
I attacked the wolves, taking them down one by one.
My movements were a blur of speed and power. I didn't see them as enemies, but as prey. Only two remained. They attacked simultaneously.
One pushed me back, but I used the momentum to break the second one's neck. But the first wolf was faster; its claws tore into my back.
The pain was sharp, but I had a job to do. I spun around and finished the last wolf, ripping its heart out. It was a brutal act, but war has no mercy. Fortunately, the wound was superficial.
I led the terrified children to safety. The mother hugged her son, her eyes filled with gratitude. I then rushed to find Klaus; he was transporting the wounded.
"First mission successful, how about you?"
I asked, trying to stay calm.
"Only a few wounded left,"
he replied tiredly. I helped him wrap bandages and stop the bleeding of the injured.
Finally, the chaos subsided. Klaus and I sat on a bench at the hospital.
"Are you hurt?"
I asked.
"No," he smiled. "What about you?"
"No," I replied, smiling back.
Suddenly, Klaus straightened up.
Knight was walking toward us. The moment he saw me covered in blood, he rushed over, checking me from head to toe.
"Are you okay?"
he asked, his voice thick with worry.
"I'm fine,"
I lied. Suddenly, his worry turned to fury—fury directed at me and Klaus.
"What did I tell you, Klaus?"
Knight growled.
"I'm the one who insisted on coming,"
I interjected.
"Don't interfere," he snapped.
"I am the Luna here. It is my duty to protect my people, just like you,"
I fired back.
Knight rubbed his face, trying to dampen his rage. He turned to Klaus.
"Did you lead the people to shelters?"
"The Luna took care of that,"
Klaus said proudly.
"And the wounded? She bandaged the critical injuries while I transported them."
I smiled at Knight. "Told you, Mr. Knight, I'm not a disaster."
I turned to leave.
I felt him following me. I stopped and turned to him with a look of annoyance.
"What is it?"
He looked like he wanted to scold me, but then I noticed something. Blood was seeping through his chest. It wasn't a scratch; it was a deep gash.
"My God! You need to treat this!"
I cried, rushing to him.
"I don't need treatment, it will heal,"
he said coldly.
"Damn it, you're bleeding! Move to the palace now; I'll treat it myself!"
I growled. To my surprise, he obeyed.
At the palace, I sat him on his bed. I told the maid to bring the first aid kit.
"Take off your shirt,"
I said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He just stared at me.
I sighed and began removing it myself. When I saw the wound, my heart stopped. It was a horrific gash.
"How did you get hurt like this? Don't you pay attention?"
I cleaned the wound gently, blowing on it to ease the sting of the antiseptic.
"Sorry if I hurt you,"
I whispered. My hands were shaking—not out of fear of him, but fear for him. As I applied the ointment, he watched every move I made with unreadable eyes.
I began wrapping the gauze. His chest was broad, and I had to lean in close. I didn't realize how close we were until our noses almost touched. His hot breath brushed my face. His gray eyes were searching mine. Time seemed to stop.
I bit my lip, trying to hide my blush. He looked from my eyes to my lips as if he wanted to do something, but he didn't.
"Damn it,"
I thought. I pulled away quickly.
"Finished. You need to rest. I'll be back soon."
I went to my room, showered, and changed. I went to the kitchen and brought a food tray to his room.
"What? You need to eat to replace the blood you lost!"
I commanded.
He ate slowly, still in shock.
"Aren't you eating?"
he asked.
"No, I'm not hungry,"
I lied. I was starving, but I couldn't eat in front of him.
After he finished, I gave him a painkiller.
"What's this?"
he asked suspiciously.
"It's just a painkiller, I'm not going to kill you,"
I teased. After he took it, silence fell. I stared at the bandages, feeling his pain as if it were my own.
Suddenly, my mark started itching again. "Damn it, again?"
I tried to resist the urge, but it was impossible. I started scratching it vigorously. Knight tilted his head.
"The itching sensation returned,"
he noted. I nodded, looking away to hide my flushed face.
I stood up to leave, but before I reached the door, he pulled me back with force.
I fell into his lap, stunned. His grip on my waist was firm—a grip of protection and longing.
I was about to protest, but he put his finger to my lips, signaling for me to be silent.
His gaze was brimming with warning. This wasn't the Knight I knew.
He nudged my shirt aside slightly, and I knew exactly what he was about to do. He was going to get closer; he was going to repeat what he did that time.
I leaned my head back, laughing at myself—laughing at this absurd situation we had landed in.
"Don't tell me you're going to lick me. For your information, I am not an ice cream,"
I said, with utter stupidity.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if he never expected me to say such a thing. Then, he burst into laughter.
His laughter echoed through the room, shattering the silence that had dominated the space.
"My God, he's laughing... he's smiling,"
I thought to myself. This was the first time I had ever seen him laugh. It was the first time I saw the real Knight—the one who carried so much love in his heart, even if he tried to hide it in the darkness.
I smiled like an idiot, staring at him.
But the happy moment didn't last long. His gaze returned to its usual cold and harsh state, while I was still smiling at him foolishly, as if I hadn't noticed the shift.
"Whoa, man, you have a really attractive smile,"
I said unconsciously, trying to reclaim that fleeting happy moment.
He stared at me, as if fighting the urge not to smile back. His eyes hid a whirlpool of emotions—emotions I couldn't quite decode.
Then, his focus returned to the mark. He took a bit of his saliva on his finger and placed it on the mark, massaging it gently. His touch was light, but it was enough to make the mark soothe and calm down.
"That's better,"
I thought, feeling a wave of relief. The mark had settled, but the embarrassment hadn't faded. I gave him a shy smile and said quickly:
"Thank you, and now... goodnight!"
I bolted from his lap, fleeing the awkward situation. I stepped out of the room, placing my hand over my heart, trying to calm its racing beats.
"What is this feeling?"
I asked myself.
"It's called 'attraction,' my dear,"
Cyran's voice echoed from within me.
My eyes widened in shock.
"I'm attracted to Knight?"
I thought.
"No, no, that's impossible! I won't fall for an arrogant, annoying, cold person like him!"
My words were a mess of contradictory feelings. I was trying to convince myself that I didn't like him, but my heart was telling me something else entirely.
The shock of admitting my feelings still controlled me.
"But how?"
I wondered. "I'm supposed to hate him after everything he's done."
That was the question haunting me—the one I couldn't find an answer to.
"Damn this bond,"
I muttered to myself. I knew it was the reason. This bond that ties me to him, that makes me feel him, and care for him, even if he is arrogant and cold. It was this bond making me feel confused, shy, and utterly lost.