Evelyn slowly opened her eyes. The first things she registered were a faint ache in her ankle and an unexpected luxury.
The bed she lay on was covered in silk sheets. The room was vastly different from the cold, austere rooms of the Infirmary; it had dark oak furniture, heavy, embroidered curtains, and the warm scent of a nearby fireplace. She was in the King's Tower. This was Alpha King Damon's private apartment.
As Evelyn tried to sit up, she noticed a silhouette seated in the corner chair. He had shed his black tunic and cloak and was in a comfortable state, yet his imposing presence was undiminished.
King Damon. He was awake, watching her.
Evelyn quickly pulled the blanket up to her chest. "Your Majesty—I..."
The King stood up. His usual stern expression was absent; instead, there was tension and a gentle attentiveness. He held a tray laden with fresh fruit, bread, and a bowl of wheat porridge.
"You are the one injured," Damon said, his voice a low, deep sound rather than a command. "Don't move. I have called the doctor, but you must eat something first."
As if Known for Years
King Damon placed the tray on the small table beside the bed, then took a spoon and began stirring the porridge himself. "We will not speak of this to anyone," he whispered. "Only I, and my most trusted commander, know I brought you to this room."
Evelyn nodded. This secret was vital for her family.
Instead of handing the bowl to Evelyn, Damon took the spoon into his own hand and gently brought it toward Evelyn's lips.
"You must eat," he repeated.
Evelyn was stunned by such intimacy. She swallowed the porridge on the spoon, embarrassed. Damon performed this duty patiently, with utter care.
As they ate, the tension slowly dissipated. Damon, beneath his famous icy shell, revealed himself to be unexpectedly witty and candid.
"Was stealing a flower from the dungeon not enough for you, that you now stage a fall down the stairs to try and enter here?" he asked, a sparkle in his ice-blue eyes.
Evelyn laughed in genuine surprise. "It was no staged accident, Your Majesty. My mother's buns are finished, and I no longer have enough silver to stay in the palace. I wanted to bid you farewell before leaving."
Damon smiled sincerely. "Then I suppose I can send enough silver to keep you for another year." Then, his expression seemed to deepen. "When my father was teaching me to fight on horseback as a child, I always watched the birds in the garden. Once, I mistakenly took my mother's makeup brush instead of my war sword. The entire army laughed."
Evelyn burst into laughter. She couldn't believe such a humorous childhood memory was hidden behind Damon's powerful, terrifying image. In that moment, the walls of Lycan/mortal and King/servant collapsed. It was as if they had both been sharing each other's deepest, most vulnerable secrets for years.
The Lock of Love
The meal was finished. Evelyn knew it was time to stand.
"Thank you for your help, Your Majesty," she said. As she pushed herself off the edge of the bed, her ankle suddenly twisted with the pain from the previous fall.
Before Evelyn could cry out, King Damon reacted with lightning speed. One arm gripped her back, the other her waist, saving her from collapsing to the floor.
Evelyn was pressed tightly against the King's warm, strong body. Their breaths mingled. The distance between them was zero. Evelyn's hands clutched his powerful shoulders.
Ice-blue eyes locked onto coal-black eyes. As Damon's strong arm gripped Evelyn's waist, Evelyn forgot the entire world. In that instant, the love that had blossomed in her heart—the feeling she had denied—was unleashed with uncontrollable force. She knew Damon felt it too, because his heart was close enough to touch her chest, and it was beating much faster than was normal for a Lycan heart.
Sudden Retreat and Panic
That moment was an eternity that lasted mere seconds. But then, the warm flicker in Damon's eyes instantly turned into a mass of ice. His face suddenly became stone.
Damon abruptly released Evelyn. Evelyn stumbled slightly but managed to stay on her feet.
The King whirled around and strode quickly toward the large balcony in the tower. His hands gripped the cold stone railing tightly.
His voice was not the voice of the man who had just laughed. It was a cold, sharp command:
"You may leave, Healer. Now. Immediately."
The love that had just been born in Evelyn's chest was suddenly shattered. Her face was burning. This sudden rejection, following such an intimate moment, shook Evelyn to her core.
Holding back tears with difficulty, she limped out of the room.
Tears of the Night and the Cold Mystery
That night, as Evelyn lay in the cold Infirmary room, she cried silently. The King's unexpected closeness, the shared laughter, and then the cruel rejection... it all combined.
Evelyn searched for the reason, but she couldn't comprehend his sudden shift. Had she done something wrong? Was he merely playing a cruel game? The King had returned to his rigid, emotionless self without offering any explanation, leaving her heartbroken.
From the next day on, a new regime began in the castle.
King Damon now turned his head when he saw Evelyn, acting as if she didn't exist. Even when their eyes accidentally met, Damon's gaze was no longer one of warm curiosity, but of harshness and sharp indifference.
This coldness would be a wound on Evelyn's heart. Despite the passionate moment they shared, the mortal heart would experience this rejection with the deepest pain, struggling to understand the King's panicked retreat.