Chapter Two

I went back alone to the guest room I had lived in for five years.

Lucian had never allowed me to set foot in his master bedroom, just as he had never acknowledged publicly that I was his fated mate. I used to feel a faint, secret thrill at having this “exclusive” room. Now it only felt like a joke.

The wound on my knee was still seeping blood, mixed with the scorching pain of the silver cuts on my back. Every movement tugged at my nerves.

I had barely wrapped my knee in gauze when Lucian pushed the door open and walked in, carrying the tail end of Selene's usual scent—soft, seductive, with the ylang-ylang note she favored.

“Taken care of?” His tone was flat. His eyes flicked over the stark white gauze on my knee.

“Mm.” I kept my head down and continued sorting the medicine kit.

“Selene's wrist isn't seriously hurt.” His voice didn't change. His fingers tapped against the tabletop, dull and heavy. “We'll let this go.”

A trace of admonishment entered his tone. “In the future, do your own work properly. Don't target her on purpose again.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the kit.

In his mind, Selene was always the victim who needed soothing and favoritism. My endurance and my injuries became “targeting” in his eyes.

I didn't say anything else. He seemed not to expect me to ignore him—to stay silent. His tapping hand paused, irritation seeping into the air.

But in the end, he only waved a hand and tossed out, “Go to bed early.”

That night, I didn't wonder anymore where Lucian slept, or who he was with.

The next morning, I opened the guest room door and found Lucian in the living room—unexpectedly—looking as if he'd been waiting for me.

He wore leather hunting gear suited for movement, less oppressive than when he was in formal Alpha dress.

“Does your knee still hurt?” He turned, his voice unusually mild.

I froze for a beat, answering on instinct, “It's better.”

“Come on patrol with me today.” He picked up the weapons belt on the coffee table and buckled it at his waist with casual efficiency. “The border hasn't been quiet lately. Remnant vampire forces have been moving near Moonlight Gorge. We need to check thoroughly.”

I paused.

For the past five years, my presence at his side had always meant organizing routes, handing over weapons, soothing restless wolves—rarely had he ever asked me to go out on missions with him. Especially after I got hurt.

For a moment, I almost thought he'd finally remembered what my role as a mate was supposed to be.

Until—

We reached the tribe's exit. By habit, I kept to his side.

A slender figure ran out of the morning mist. Selene, in a brand-new set of leather hunting gear, her face flushed with excited color.

“Lucian! I'm ready!”

She saw me. Her smile stalled for a fraction of a second, then turned even sweeter. “Agatha? Perfect—someone to talk to on the way. Otherwise it'd be so boring following the patrol team alone.”

Lucian glanced at me and explained, his tone calm. “Selene wants to start getting involved in clan affairs. She'll begin by learning the patrol routes. You have experience—guide her. I won't be at ease leaving her to it by herself.”

So that was it.

I was the “extra” guard.

“Lucian, what flower is that? It's so pretty!” Selene pointed at a cluster of deep blue blossoms, eyes bright, voice coyly innocent.

Lucian didn't slow, didn't even turn his head. He spoke to me instead. “Agatha, explain it to her. A lot of border plants are poisonous. Don't let her touch things.”

My fingertips trembled slightly.

But I said nothing. I only nodded. “All right.”

I was here to be a “servant,” and servants weren't granted much sympathy.

“That's shadowblue grass. The sap has a numbing effect and is often used for anesthetics, but direct skin contact can cause swelling and itching.”

“That's silverleaf vine—those wrapped around the tree trunks. Its thorns carry a neurotoxin…”

Numbly, I introduced the plants and hazards along the way. Lucian stayed at the front the entire time. When he did look back, it was only to make sure Selene didn't step on loose rock or trip.

From beginning to end, he never noticed the gauze on my knee bleeding through again from walking so long. He didn't hear my breathing grow heavier, forced into it by pain.

The wind picked up, kicking sand into the air. Lucian was urgently called away to handle clan affairs. Selene complained that the wind and grit were stifling and dragged me toward the edge of the camp, in the direction of the forbidden forest.

She pulled me to an unmanned watchtower.

“You walk like you're limping a little,” she said suddenly, tilting her head, smiling with a childlike air. “Did you get hurt yesterday? Poor thing.”

I stayed unreadable and stopped where she stopped.

“You know what?” The sweet smile remained, but her eyes turned instantly cold and mocking. “People like you are the funniest. You always think—”

“That being a fated mate makes you the lady of the house.” She looked me up and down, voice full of contempt. “But unfortunately… you're nothing but an assistant who can be replaced at any time.”

When I didn't respond, she leaned in, lowering her voice, sweetness laced with malice. “Agatha, be smart and get out yourself. You can keep a little dignity that way. If you insist on waiting until Lucian kicks you out in person—now that would be humiliating.”

“Dignity?”

The corner of my mouth lifted, faintly—almost pitying.

“Selene, you cling to the title of ‘widow' to gorge yourself on his guilt and favoritism, and yet you can't stop using me to prove how helpless he is where you're concerned…” I ignored the way her face shifted. “The way you want to be the victim and the winner at the same time—that's what's truly ugly.”

“You want his love, but you don't dare claim it openly.” My tone stayed level. “If you're not tired, I'm tired just watching you.”

“You—!” Selene clearly hadn't expected me to cut her open so sharply. Her mask cracked, revealing twisted jealousy and rage.

“Bitch!” she shrieked, something crazed flashing in her eyes—then she shoved me with all her strength.

“No—”

I wasn't prepared. The ground under my feet was loose sand; I couldn't hold steady. I stumbled backward. My spine slammed into the watchtower's icy railing—and then I toppled over it, falling into the dense, dangerous poisonous grass below.

“Thud!”

Toxic leaves slit my skin at once. Numbing poison and the scorching pain of the silver cuts surged through my body. I fought desperately, trying to crawl out, forcing out the words with everything I had:

“Lucian! Help… help me…”

Hearing the commotion, Lucian burst out of the tent immediately.

“Agatha?”

He moved—then Selene let out an even more piercing cry, collapsing to sit at the edge of the tower.

“Ah! My foot! Lucian… it hurts…”

She clutched her ankle, where the tower's sharp metal edge had cut a gash. Her face went pale; tears spilled over.

Lucian stopped short.

In that moment, time stretched endlessly. I saw the struggle plain on his face, his eyes snapping back and forth between me and Selene. But the struggle lasted only a heartbeat—brief enough to chill the blood.

“Don't be scared.” In the end, he scooped Selene into his arms and didn't look at me again, striding toward the medical tent at the center of camp.

The poisonous leaves were like countless fine needles stabbing into my skin. The numbness spread fast, as though it meant to drag me into the abyss.

And all I could think was—

how absurd this all was, absurd enough to make you laugh.