Chapter 11: CHAPTER#11:Discovery
A sharp knock on the door pulled her attention away from the breakfast she had just finished, served personally by the head butler. The black wolf at her side wagged its bushy tail, sniffing eagerly at the remnants of the meal she had shared with it. Brushing crumbs from her hands, she hurried to her feet, calling out, "Who's there?"
A familiar, deep voice answered from the other side. Erebus.
Her chest tightened, goosebumps prickling her skin as his voice reverberated through the room. It wasn't just the sound—it was the power behind it, enough to unnerve her every time. He could still her wildly beating heart with nothing more than a word.
The wolf, Leo, perked up and bolted to the door, barking and wagging his tail in excitement. She hesitated before following, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the iron handle. The door was deceptively plain in appearance, yet heavier than any she had encountered. She had always seen Erebus, Jafar, or the butler open it with ease, but for her, it was a test of sheer strength.
She braced herself, straining against the weight until it budged—only to find it swing open from the outside.
Erebus stepped in, his imposing figure framed by the dim light of the corridor. She drew in a sharp breath. Up close, his rough-hewn features seemed even sharper. His tanned skin highlighted the angles of his face: the chiseled jaw, the pronounced cheekbones, and those dark, piercing eyes that seemed to delve into her very soul. A faint scar traced the edge of his lips, adding a rugged charm to his otherwise stern demeanor. The black hair falling across his forehead was as impenetrable as the starless night.
"Is there something on my face?" His deep voice broke her trance as his hand brushed his cheek, checking for imagined imperfections.
"No, I—" she stammered, stepping back instinctively. She barely noticed Leo at her heels until it was too late.
Her foot caught on the wolf, and she stumbled, her balance giving way toward the fireplace. Panic surged through her as she braced for the fall, shutting her eyes tightly.
But she didn't fall.
A strong arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her. She opened her eyes to find herself pressed against Erebus's chest, her hand resting instinctively on his broad shoulder. His grip tightened, keeping her upright. The proximity was dizzying, her pulse thundering in her ears.
The room seemed to freeze, the only sound the mournful howl of the wind beyond the walls. Erebus's aide, Jafar, lingered briefly before retreating, pulling Leo along with him. "Come on, let's give them some space," he murmured, scratching the wolf's ears as they disappeared down the hall.
"Thank you," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze dropped to his chest, where his shirt parted slightly, revealing a glimpse of his toned frame. Her cheeks burned as he released her, stepping back.
That's when she noticed his hand—red, raw, and blistered from where he must have grabbed the edge of the fireplace.
"Your hand!" she exclaimed, alarmed. "You're hurt!"
"It's nothing." His voice was calm, but the pain was evident in the way he held his hand close.
"No, it's not. You need treatment," she insisted, already searching for something to help. Finding no proper supplies, she tore a strip from the hem of her dress, dampening it with water from the table.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, frowning as she approached.
"Let me treat it," she pleaded.
Erebus hesitated but eventually sat on the bear-skin rug near the fireplace, leaning against the couch. She knelt beside him, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for his hand. His skin was rough, calloused from years of wielding weapons and laboring in harsh conditions.
He winced but said nothing as she carefully wrapped the cloth around his burn. "Bear with me for a moment," she murmured, applying a small amount of the salve left on the table.
His eyes narrowed. "That's supposed to be for your recovery."
"Does it matter?" she countered, glancing up at him with a mixture of defiance and concern.
He said nothing, watching her in quiet disbelief.
Finally, as she finished securing the bandage, she placed her hand gently over his and closed her eyes.
"What are you doing now?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
She ignored him, her lips parting to hum a melody—soft, haunting, and otherworldly. The song carried a warmth that seemed to seep into his skin. He blinked, startled, as the sharp sting in his hand began to fade, replaced by a soothing numbness.
When she pulled her hand away, the pain was gone.
"You're... insane," he muttered, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a fully healed hand, save for a faint scar.
"I'm sorry," she said, her expression falling. "That's as much as I can do."
"It's more than enough," he admitted, his tone softer than before.
Her gaze dropped to the torn edge of her dress. "I ruined it," she mumbled, apologetic.
"Who cares about that?" he said, rising to his feet. His commanding presence returned in an instant. "Now, back to business."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone