"Haa... Haa..." His mouth parted — I caught the faint shift of his lips, the breath caught between what he wanted to say and the fear he might not find the right words.
'Please… say something.'
I didn't hear it aloud, but I felt it in my bones — as if the plea was woven into the space between us. In strange worry, I didn't know what it was, but the fear of him saying something... I don't even know what it was.
I held him in my gaze, unblinking, my fingers slowly lifting, as if trying to help him say that word, starting to ruffle his hair gently.
I was worried for a reason even I didn't know.
His chest rose and fell against mine, each movement slow, uneven, heavy with unshed words. I refused to let that moment slip, as if my eyes alone could hold it in place.
Then — a drop touched my cheek.
My heartbeat jolted at the coolness, my lashes fluttering in surprise. For half a breath, I thought it was just the morning dew shaken from a leaf above us… until I saw it.
It wasn't mine.
It wasn't the sky's.
A single tear slid from his left eye, tracing a path over the hard edge of his cheekbone. It caught the muted light, glowing for the briefest moment before falling away.
'!'
My breath stilled.
This man.
This beast who had taken an Empire's whole decades of planning, keeping them on the edge every time in fear with no strength to handle him directly and choosing underhanded tactics like using his own children in the future to kill, just... showed this side to me.
And as if that tear had a breath of its own, touching my cheek — even though it was just one from those calm eyes — it screamed that its identity was not of weakness, but the raw truth no one else had ever been allowed near.
'No, no, no!'
Something fierce and protective tightened inside me, almost painfully. This wasn't for others to see. Not the guards. Not the maids. Not the world that feared him.
Only me.
My gaze swept the space around us — not to check for the half-undone mess of my dress or the crushed, damp grass beneath — but to ensure no other eyes intruded.
My head moved erratically, swinging from side to side, my pupils trembling, trying to look for anyone who had seen this so I could bury them, even if it meant erasing them from seeing such a sight that belonged only to me.
I wanted to shield this moment, to hold it cupped between my hands like something fragile and priceless.
Before I could speak, his palms framed my face. His touch was warm, grounding, anchoring me in a heartbeat.
His silver eyes locked on mine, steady and deep, and for a second, I thought I might drown there.
Then his lips descended, pressing into the center of my forehead — slow, deliberate, firm — a kiss that carried more gravity than any desire could.
"Thank you, wife," he murmured against my skin, each word low and deliberate. "This is the second most precious thing I've been given in this life… after you."
Something inside me melted in an instant.
My lips trembled so badly I had to bite them to keep from shaking.
My body felt weakened by everything that had passed between us, but my heart burned hot — like a flame that nothing could put out.
"I…" My voice stumbled until I caught it. "I want you to love me."
As if a strange craving to have him now burned within me, I wanted this moment to just be mine.
He blinked — once, twice — as if the words had pierced somewhere deep. And then, without hesitation,
"I love you," he said. No doubt. No fragility. Only truth.
The words landed inside me like an anchor and a promise bound together. I didn't think — I only whispered, "Let's go to my room. I don't trust the word of a man who did not even look at me for three months. I want proof."
His eyes widened before softening as he nodded once, shifting his weight off me.
Reality came rushing back with the movement — the warm streak across my forearm, the damp cling of my dress where his release had spilled.
His seed, white on my skin, was still drying, leaving a trail of thick, whitish substance.
His gaze flicked down to it, and a flicker of embarrassment — almost boyish — crossed his features.
"Oh… sorry, I didn't—"
"It's fine," I cut in, my eyes never leaving his. "I'm also wet."
We both stilled.
My gaze fell to the grass beneath me — darker now, slick from my own release soaking into the earth.
I turned my head toward him, my eyes lowering to where he still stood exposed — thick, firm, and throbbing, the head glistening with the last of his fluid while still seeming capable of standing strong.
By the time I looked back at him, he had already noticed. His hand moved quickly to fasten his trousers, breaking the heat of the moment with a quiet, "Wait… let me get you a cloth to clean—"
"Take me to the room first," I interrupted, soft but unyielding, further adding, "I want to take a bath."
A beat. Then he nodded.
His arms slid beneath me — one behind my back, the other under my knees — and he lifted me with ease, as if I weighed nothing.
My body fit against him perfectly, the heat of him bleeding through the rumpled fabric between us.
As the world tilted, I laid my cheek against his chest. The steady, heavy drum of his heartbeat filled my ears.
His scent wrapped around me — the faint salt of sweat, crushed grass, and warm skin.
And inside, I still held the image of that single tear, locked away like the most precious jewel I would never share with anyone.
Just a smile forming whenever that image of him surfaced in my mind. It was so precious that I never thought — more than money, status, and everything else that I had already become numb to. And even for a moment when I thought I had become numb to love too, I got a memory that was so important now. Maybe something I might not forget.
"Oh, they are twins," suddenly came Zebrian's voice as I opened my eyes, looking at him gazing at my abdomen with clear softness in his expression, shocking me as it was still just one or two months — how could he predict that?
'!'
"Wait, you can see them!?" It was clearly surprising for me that he was able to see that I had twins, even though the belly still had to show and it had only been two months. I was clearly surprised.
And he did not look at me, just at my belly, causing me to narrow my gaze, feeling jealous of this man not looking at me until he did. And with the gaze that made me smile, he asserted, "I can smell two different auras within your belly, though it's still very weak."
"Can you smell aura? What's that though?" I inquired, slightly curious.
He, looking at me, said, "As the baby grows, a wolf — especially not everyone, but some like me with strength — can exactly tell the baby's personality, energy, signature, spark, and how his behavior will be..."
He was saying something that I was noting, but I did not pay that much attention, given my focus was settled on my arm where the trace of his seed was still present. Just a curiosity came to me as he was busy explaining.
I thought for a moment to do something strange, remembering how he had told me that he had never tasted something as sweet as me. So my question was: how does he taste?
I licked.
And as I did, my face went blank. Wanting to do what Sally normally does, I just lifted my head to look towards my husband, who today was lucky to have made me feel loved.
So in a very wifely tone, eyes closed, fist clenched, I inquired, "Hey, wild beast, tell me honestly — how many days has it been since you bathed?"
"Bath?" He looked at me. Then, as if remembering our past moment of this, genuinely remembering the last time he bathed, he revealed, "Wasn't it just last time that you bathed me?"
'3 months?, haah, you are dead, you damn smelly, dirty wolf.'