Kael’s POV
With everyone else gone, I was left alone to watch over the house—and her. Sitting on the sofa, I continued my work from ho, juggling etings and the rest of my tasks while keeping a careful eye on her through the wall-sized glass window.
She remained on the lawn, Vixen lazily curled at her side, while Fluffy darted around in playful circles. She sat there like a still point in the world, unmoving, unbothered, as if ti itself had no hold over her.
A thought struck . Maybe years locked in small rooms, denied the world outside, had shaped her into this. She could sit in the sa spot for an entire day, unaffected—not just physically, but ntally too. Nothing seed to disturb her.
I had been furious when I learned she had a mate and a child. The twenty-four hours I spent locked in my room—what I endured alone—was unbearable. A living hell. If I had stepped out, I wasn’t sure what I might have done to her.
How could she even dare to have a mate when....
I forced myself to swallow every bit of that hellish rage I was feeling towards her.
It’s alright. Once I find that bastard, tear out his heart for daring to make her his mate, for daring to touch her... everything will be alright. All I have to do is kill him. Then she will have no one else but . Us.
Her child? We’ll deal with that once we find him.
And after watching that video of her abuse, all that anger faded into nothingness.
Her reaction after watching her own video, I wasn’t sure whether it was good thing that she didn’t react or it was worriso. Maybe, I should consider Liam’s suggestion of getting a psychologist for her.
When my last eting ended, I looked up at the wall clock. It was lunchti. I hadn’t even noticed how the hours had slipped by while working and keeping watch on her.
After years, I finally stepped into the kitchen to prepare a al. Since I’d brought my mate brothers here, Jason had taken over the kitchen entirely. I hadn’t needed to cook at all.
Still, I knew the skills hadn’t left . I rembered my mother enjoying whatever I made. She herself was the best cook, and my father and I loved everything she prepared. Despite our wealth and having servants, my mother preferred to cook herself. It was more than food—it was her love, her way of showing care for us.
I used to hover around the kitchen whenever my mother cooked, slowly picking up her skills. Over ti, she even began teaching herself. I could still hear her words in my mind:
"A man should learn to cook so he can make tasty als and please his mate whenever she’s angry. It’s the easiest way to reach her heart."
I used to smile at her and dream about having my own mate, imagining a life like my parents’—a happy family.
My mate? What a cursed fate I had.
So, I decided long ago that I didn’t need a mate. I wouldn’t have one—ever.
But now... things were changing. Slowly, in a direction I had never imagined, not even in my wildest dreams.
Dreams. I hadn’t had any for years now. All I had were the hellishly torturous, sleepless nights I had endured alone for the past six years.
After giving a thought, I decided to cook sothing my mother loved, thinking that if every woman liked it, she would too. Spicy penne with tomato sauce, a hint of wine for depth. My mother had loved it.
I glanced toward her on the lawn, wondering if she could handle sothing spicy. Then I recalled a mories from the past: where that one evening she enjoyed it despite the fact that she wasn’t good at handling it and cursed the food and the cook for making it so spicy.
Her red, angry face, mouth twisted to hurl sweet curses, was sight to see.
Maybe, today, I’ll get to hear her cursing again. Better than seeing her quiet and lifeless.’
To counter the spice, I made a chocolate smoothie and added so side dishes so she wouldn’t suffer after the main course.
While I cooked, I noticed her finally lying down on the lawn. She must have been exhausted after sitting so long. Facing the sky, she closed her eyes, and Vixen curled up on the hollow of her stomach, drifting off to sleep.
She was skin and bone, fragile in a way that made my chest tighten. She needed to eat more, and eat well, so I prepared another quick dish with at to ensure she got proper nutrition.
’Gosh. I can’t believe I’m worrying about her als and her health. While until this morning, all I could thinking of killing her for having a mate and a child with him.
Once the al was ready, I stepped outside and called, "Food is ready. Co inside to eat."
As usual, she didn’t react. Her expression remained as lifeless as ever, let alone open her eyes to even acknowledge my presence.
I frowned and lifted Vixen from her stomach, turning to walk inside. "I should send you to pet care," I said casually to the cat, "so you can give birth there and return after half a year."
The words seed to strike a chord as I felt movent behind .
In the reflection of the window glass, I saw she had sat up, her eyes blazing with defiance as she glared at for taking away her pet. If the gaze could kill, it would have stabbed right away.
That defiance... it was the sa as in the past, the sa fire that had always srised . I smirked, watching her rise and follow inside.
I placed Vixen’s food bowl on the dining table so she could eat there. Eira picked up the cat and set her closer to her chair. I had already served her al, and Fluffy followed in to eat as well.
Her possessiveness over her pets was absolute. They were hers only thanks to Roman’s promise. I had never been a pet person, so it didn’t matter to . She could have as many as she wanted and claim them hers.
As she took her first bite of the pasta, I watched her face. Her expression twisted slightly, and in an instant, the tip of her tiny nose turned red. She glared at , cold and furious, clearly cursing for feeding her sothing spicy.
She wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t done it out of anger. I just wanted to see a reaction, sothing to break through that dead calm. I waited, almost eager, for her to curse —but...
She lowered her head and continued eating, ignoring completely. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her cheeks and nose flushed a deep red, yet she kept stuffing the pasta into her mouth as if it didn’t matter.
I stood and gently held her hand, trying to stop her. She shrugged off without a word and kept eating.
I pushed the glass of chocolate smoothie toward her. "This will ease the burning."
She didn’t touch it until she finished the pasta—and then went on to eat the rest of her al. Her face was still flushed, almost as if she was burning from the inside, but she refused to listen to .
Things hadn’t gone as I had planned. The glimpse of the past I had hoped for—the small, human reaction—had been shattered in an instant.
I could only hope her stomach wouldn’t pay for it.
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