Rory was still fighting to steady her breathing when the storm inside Yuel abruptly fractured.
Clarity struck him like a blade of cold light cutting through fog. The wild intensity that had seized him monts earlier shattered, replaced by sharp, imdiate fear.
His expression shifted, panic flickering openly across his usually composed features as he reached for Rory’s wrist. His fingers trembled as they pressed lightly against her skin, searching desperately for confirmation—searching for life.
The mont he felt it—the steady, unmistakable pulse beneath her veins—his shoulders sagged.
A long, uneven breath escaped him, relief washing through his body in a slow, cleansing tide, as though the chaos clawing at his mind had finally loosened its grip.
"I’m so sorry... Female Master," Yuel whispered. His voice was low, raw with regret, stripped of its earlier confidence. "I shouldn’t have... I lost myself for a mont."
Even as he spoke, his thoughts were still unsteady, his consciousness wobbling as though perched on the edge of collapse.
Damn it.
The curse echoed silently in his mind, sharp with self-loathing. I almost hurt her. Because I couldn’t restrain my own instincts.
That realization cut deeper than any wound.
Rory, however, did not feel the paralyzing terror he seed to expect. She was alert—watchful—but not afraid. Her instincts told her the danger had passed, at least for now.
Still, she couldn’t deny what she had sensed in that mont.
There was sothing ancient coiled beneath Yuel’s refined exterior. Sothing feral. Sothing that didn’t quite belong among polite words and gentle gestures. If the phrase a beast wearing silk had ever been embodied in human form, it would be him.
"Did I scare you?" Yuel asked quietly, his voice softening as he leaned closer, his gaze earnest, almost vulnerable. "Please... don’t be afraid. I swear it won’t happen again."
The tenderness in his tone only sharpened Rory’s unease.
To her, he suddenly looked like a storybook predator—smiling kindly, speaking softly, all while standing far too close. One more step, one more whispered promise, and she might be devoured whole.
The instant she noticed him edging nearer again, Rory reacted.
She planted her palm firmly against his chest and pushed him back, her expression cool and resolute.
"That’s enough," she said flatly. "Behave yourself—and put your clothes back on."
Yuel blinked, then let out a faint, amused huff.
"Yes, Female Master," he replied obediently, a trace of humor curling at the edge of his voice. He adjusted his glasses before bending to retrieve the shirt he had abandoned earlier. As he slipped it on, he moved with deliberate care, buttoning it slowly, one fastening click at a ti—as if reassembling not just his appearance, but his composure.
Rory couldn’t seem to look away.
His fingers paused at the final button. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
The sight sent an unwelco shiver racing down her spine.
Get it together, she scolded herself. Absolutely not.
Teasing soone naïve like Jasper was one thing. Resisting soone like Yuel—soone who radiated danger wrapped in elegance—was sothing else entirely.
Focus. Breathe. Don’t get distracted by a handso face.
The first one had to be Jasper.
It had to be Jasper.
Yuel, anwhile, watched the flurry of emotions cross her face with quiet amusent. He didn’t need her to say a word—her reactions told him everything.
Of all those bound to her, Jasper truly was the lucky one.
"All set," Yuel said at last, fastening the final button with a soft click.
Then, with a grace that seed almost symbolic, he lowered himself to one knee before her. The image was striking—a creature that monts ago had felt untad now appearing calm, controlled, and waiting. Like a powerful beast choosing obedience.
"Rory," he said gently. "May I call you that?"
There was humility in his voice, and sothing else too—hope, restrained but unmistakable.
She hesitated only a heartbeat.
"You may," she answered softly.
Then her brows knit together as a new question surfaced.
"But how did you even get into my room?" she asked. "The defensive grid is always active at night. Nothing should be able to bypass it."
Not even soone like him.
Yuel, still visibly weakened, lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips tenderly along her cheek.
"Because I never left," he said quietly. "I’ve been here the entire ti."
Rory froze.
"I’m the Crescent Vine that His Majesty Prince Vincent brought back," he continued. "He uses the code na Kather when he goes on missions. And I was the one you’ve been tending in that little pot."
Her eyes widened.
"The plant?" she whispered. "The Crescent Vine?"
Realization struck like lightning.
"You an... you’re the Divine Tree?"
A faint, almost apologetic smile curved his lips.
"Not the Divine Tree," Yuel corrected gently. "I’m a mutated Crescent Vine. We look similar, but we are not the sa."
Confusion flickered across her face.
"But the data says the Divine Tree looks exactly like you."
"That’s because its original form was also a mutated Crescent Vine," he explained patiently. "You could say we share a lineage—but not an identity. The Divine Tree gained divinity after centuries beside the Beast God. That transformation is what set it apart."
Understanding slowly settled in.
Rory blinked, curiosity overtaking her tension.
"Then... can you bloom too?" she asked.
She had been waiting—hoping—to one day offer one of the Divine Tree’s blossoms to Jasper.
"I can," Yuel replied, his smile knowing, as if he’d already guessed her thoughts. "My blossoms aren’t as powerful as the Divine Tree’s—but they’re strong enough to save a life."
He lifted her hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to the fingertip she had injured earlier. Guilt and warmth shimred together in his deep blue eyes.
"Rory," he murmured, "please don’t feed your blood anymore. Just a few Rank-7 beast cores in the pot will be enough."
He didn’t want her to hurt herself for him again.
Rory didn’t respond—but her silence wasn’t uncertainty.
She knew the truth.
Beast cores barely affected him. Her blood, however, had awakened sothing profound. If a few drops could hasten his recovery, she wasn’t willing to waste ti waiting.
So decisions didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
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