KATHARINA
I crouched before the pitiful little creature, my lips curved in a smile that never reached my eyes.
"What a distressing situation you've found yourself in, little thing," I murmured. "But do tell me… how did you manage to slip past the poisonous miasma outside, and my enchantments on top of that?"
My tone was gentle. Soft.
Deceptively so.
As I spoke, I sent out a subtle probe of magic, sweeping through its tiny body—searching for shifter energy, hidden spells, anything unusual.
Nothing.
Just an ordinary wild pup, or so it wanted me to believe.
The thought flashed through my mind, sharpening my wariness rather than easing it.
Not only had it bypassed my barriers, its blood also carried an unmistakable lure—one potent enough to stir my dormant hunger.
I'd drunk animal blood before which I found far less repulsive than the human blood my vampiric half clearly preferred.
Yet never—not once—had the scent of their blood stirred such a response in me.
Two peculiarities appearing on the same creature?
No.
I didn't believe in coincidences.
But seemingly not understanding my questions, the pup merely whimpered, peering up at me with striking blue eyes—too clear, too innocent.
Anyone else might have softened. But my heart was made of stone.
Still, I couldn't leave it bleeding out on my doorstep. Not until I figured out the mysteries surrounding it.
That thought had barely formed when I felt something warm brush against my hand, still resting over my knee.
I froze, then snapped out of my thoughts and looked down.
The tiny creature was nuzzling my hand, rubbing against it hesitantly.
For a moment, my mind went blank. When I finally reacted, I stood abruptly, retreating several steps backward while staring at the pup with an unreadable expression.
How long had it been since I felt another's warmth on my skin?
Too long. So long I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like.
At least not since I sealed myself inside this self-imposed cage a century ago, refusing to leave until I found a cure for my immortality.
My fingertips trembled.
Yet somehow, a creature had found itself in, as though sent to remind me of the world beyond these walls—to tempt me. To lure me out. To make me forget why I locked myself away… and accept the curse of living an endless, hollow life.
At the thought, murderous intent rose in my chest like a blade unsheathed.
I'd grown used to the deathly silence around me. Comfortable in it.
So how dare an unrelated stray intrude and try to make me waver?
A sudden premonition struck—sharp enough to steal my breath. A warning from the universe itself.
This creature's appearance would bring change.
Earthshaking changes.
And a witch's premonition was never to be dismissed.
My eyes hardened.
No. It had to die.
As long as it died, whatever fate it carried, good or bad, would die with it.
I lifted my hand—the same hand it had nuzzled moments before—and a death spell gathered on my lips…
But then I caught its gaze.
Wide, innocent.
And seemingly as startled by its own behavior as I was.
My hand stilled.
Then, a bitter laugh tore from my throat—sharp, derisive, laced with self-mockery.
I had lived for nearly a thousand years and considered myself neither righteous nor kind. But I had always upheld one bottomline: I did not strike the innocent and defenseless.
And yet I had nearly done so just now.
Over a premonition. Over an unproven fear.
What did that make me, compared to the people who once branded me an abomination for being a hybrid—condemning me based on nothing but their own unfounded beliefs and prejudice?
I had always thought myself clear-minded. Perfectly so.
Now I wasn't sure.
I remained still for a long moment. When I finally moved, the spell on my lips shifted, into one of healing.
A mist of silver and green drifted from my palm to envelope the pup, mending its wounds in silence.
As the magic faded, I lowered my hand.
"I don't care how you got here," I stared at it and said with cool indifference. "But count yourself lucky you're leaving alive. Now that your injuries are healed, be on your way—and don't let me see you again. Next time, I can't guarantee you'll be as fortunate."
Without waiting for a reaction, I turned around and walked toward the house.
In my long, insufferable life, this encounter would be nothing more than a fleeting memory.
Or so I thought.
Just as I stepped over the threshold, a soft rustle from behind me caught my attention.
Not too stupid, I thought, assuming that it was leaving as I instructed.
…Wait.
My brows suddenly knitted together as I realized the sound wasn't receding.
It was approaching.
I stopped in my tracks, and turned around.
The pup was trotting toward me—slowly, determinedly.
My expression iced over, a humorless scoff slipping past my lips.
I had allowed it to leave out of rare compassion, but apparently, that wasn't appreciated.
Fine. If it wished for death so badly, I would allow it the luxury.
As it approached the edge of my herb garden, my gaze narrowed.
Outside the protective spell circle around the rose garden, the air was lethal. Even a breath of that miasma could kill a grown wolf, much less a pup.
I counted silently as it neared the boundary.
One… two… three…
By ten steps, the poison in the air would seep into its lungs and end its life.
A fitting end, I would say. A consequence of its own foolishness.
Nine…
Its paws hovered inches from the invisible deathline.
Before I could think, my hand moved—an isolation spell burst forth and shot toward it, wrapping around its small body like a protective veil.
I froze.
Why… had I done that?
A moment later, I told myself it was simple logic: I had gone to the trouble of healing it. Letting it die now would be wasteful.
Yes. That was the only reason.
When it finally stopped before me, looking up with those pitiful blue eyes, I let out a quiet scoff…and then smiled.
"You don't want to leave? Is that it?" my voice dropped low.
It didn't respond and simply stared at me.
Unbothered by its silence, I continued, "Very well. Stay, if you wish. I suppose…"
My fingers twitched, a strange glint flashing past my eyes.
"...I could use the company."
Let's see how long you can keep your wily little tail hidden.