Her breath slightly choked, her lips parting slightly. She looked down, trying to steady herself, but her fingers were cold.
When she lifted her gaze again, Yuwen Jian was already watching her, silent, his eyes dark, and his jaw tight.
As the others spoke softly around her, Yueyao couldn't shake the feeling that whatever bound her to this new life… it had already begun to tighten.
And perhaps, the most dangerous bond of all, was the one hidden around her.
"I want to rest..." She hoarsely whispered.
Madam Yuwen immediately gestured for everyone to leave. "Enough questions. She needs peace," she said firmly, her trembling hands adjusting the blanket over Yueyao's chest.
The others obeyed. The physician bowed and withdrew quietly, his attendants trailing behind with muted footsteps. Yuwen Lin cast one last worried glance at her before following his father out. Only Yuwen Jian lingered.
He stood there a heartbeat longer, the red glow from the lantern washing half his face in shadow. His gaze was heavy, too knowing, and too still. "Rest, then," he murmured, his tone unreadable..."But don't think I won't come back for answers."
Then he turned and left, the soft click of the door echoing in the quiet chamber.
When silence fell, Yueyao finally exhaled. The moment they were gone, she pressed a hand over her heart, feeling the faint, irregular rhythm beneath her palm. Every beat felt strange, heavier, as though something inside her pulsed with unfamiliar life.
Outside, the crimson moon hung lower, its reflection gleaming through the window lattice, spilling a dull scarlet glow across her pale face.
"Blood calls to blood…"
The whisper brushed against her thoughts again, faint as a sigh.
Her lashes trembled, but she said nothing. The night air grew colder, carrying the scent of osmanthus from the courtyard. Somewhere deep inside her, that unfamiliar heartbeat echoed again, steady, resolute, and wrong.
And as sleep slowly dragged her under, Yueyao realized that her awakening had not saved her.
It had only just begun to change her.
— — — —
Five days later....
Morning crept slowly into the chamber. The storm had passed, leaving a thin mist over the Silver Fang estate.
Yueyao sat propped against the pillows, her long hair cascading down her back like a dark river. Her fingers traced the fine embroidery of the blanket absently, as if the texture could help her piece together who she was supposed to be.
The physician had come and gone, muttering something about "miracles" and "the heavens' mercy." She had barely spoken during his visit. It was safer to stay quiet. Every word she said could betray that she wasn't truly Yuwen Yueshuang.
Her body felt light yet foreign, her reflection in the polished bronze mirror too soft, too noble, too untouched by the scars of her real life.
When the servants entered to bring her food, they bowed low and greeted her as "Princess." Their eyes were full of worry, and something else.... Fear.
"Princess, please, you should eat something," one of them murmured, a young girl with a trembling voice.
Yueyao nodded slowly, pushing the bowl away after a few sips, "How long was I asleep?"
The girl hesitated before responding again, "Five days, Princess, five days have gone by since you woke up and fell unconscious. You said you want to rest when you come up, and slept for five days, they didn't dare to disturb you."
" Five days…" Yueyao whispered, the words heavy on her tongue. Her gaze fell to her hands, pale, delicate, and unscarred. The hands of someone who had never fought, never bled, never survived the way she had.
"Did… did anything happen while I slept?" she asked, voice careful.
The girl glanced nervously toward the door before answering.... "The Duke sent letters to the Crimson Howl clan. He said the marriage will be delayed until you recover."
The Duke didn't dare to cancel the engagement for fear of his daughter hating him for making those choices.
So, it wasn't a dream? This girl really liked that Alpha!
After the servant left, she slowly stood up, steadying herself against the wall. The floor felt strange under her feet, and the scent of the air was too clean. Every corner of the room whispered of wealth and confinement.
She crossed over to the mirror again, studying the stranger's face staring back at her.
She had silver eyes, pale skin, and even her hair was silver. Lips that looked too fragile to hold anger.
And yet, when she smiled faintly, the reflection looked nothing like the girl who had fainted five nights ago.
"I am not you," she murmured to the reflection. " But I will live your life now."
She turned toward the balcony, pushing open the curtains. The courtyard outside was silent except for the flutter of white birds near the pond.