Auren let out a slow breath, he had no choice.
He slid his arms beneath her and lifted her easily.
Her body rested against him, limp and quiet.
He hated how natural it felt to carry her like this.
The moment he stepped into the farm grounds, Brinna saw them.
She hurried forward with two maids, her face full of alarm.
“Evryn!” she shouted.
“What happened?
Why is she like this?”
Brinna moved closer, but before she could reach them, Ray appeared.
He came fast, his eyes going straight to Evryn.
Then his gaze lifted and met Auren’s.
“I’ll take her,” Ray said, stepping forward.
Auren did not move.
For one short, dangerous second, his hold on her tightened instead.
he didn’t want to let her go, especially not to him.
Ray’s expression darkened.
“Give her to me.
Now.”
Auren’s eyes narrowed slightly, but in the end, he stepped forward and transferred Evryn into Ray’s arms with careful control.
The moment her weight left him, something sharp and unpleasant twisted in his chest.
Ray turned at once and carried her toward the house while Brinna and the maids followed in worry.
Auren stayed where he was.
His hands felt strangely empty.
He dragged one hand roughly over his face, then muttered to himself with cold disgust, “What are you doing?”
His gaze remained fixed on the doorway where she had disappeared.
“Remember your place.
Remember your duty.” he said under his breath.
Then his jaw hardened even more.
“Get control of yourself, fool.”
Auren stood alone in the garden, the afternoon light falling across the grass in long shadows.
The farm was quiet again, but his thoughts were not.
He replayed the market in his mind, the moment he saw her on the ground, the blood near her brow, the fear that had struck him deeper than pride ever had.
He hated her.
He reminded himself of that.
She challenged him, mocked him, ordered him like he belonged beneath her voice.
Yet when he saw her hurt, something inside him had reacted without thought.
It had not felt like humiliation.
It had felt like rage.
He tried to dismiss it.
The spell, he told himself.
The magic shaped his reactions and it forced his body to move, forced his chest to tighten, forced his mind to fear her harm.
This is not you; he told himself.
This is the spell, he repeated it until the words felt steady.
The air shifted behind him.
A golden gate opened quietly, and Asric stepped through.
Wore a formal clothing, tailored perfectly, a long coat fitted to his broad shoulders.
His brown hair was brushed back neatly, and his brown eyes held their usual sharp amusement.
Even standing still, strength showed in the way he carried himself.
Unlike Auren’s controlled stillness, Asric moved lightly, almost casually, as if the world rarely pressed heavily on him.
“You look troubled,” Asric said softly.
Auren did not answer.
He extended his hand, and Asric handed him a folded letter.
“From Abby,” Asric added.
While Auren read, Asric’s gaze wandered through the garden, the paths, the quiet space.
Then his eyes returned to Auren.
“So,” Asric said calmly, “where is she?
I would like to see the woman who managed to bind the king himself.
I wonder what her mind looks like.”
Auren’s focus remained on the letter.
The more he read, the colder his expression became.
Abby had searched deeper into the forbidden spell.
The protector was not only bound to guard her.
Their lives were tied.
If she died, the protector would die with her.
The magic would not allow failure.
“If she dies, you die.”
The words struck him harder than any blade ever could.
His jaw tightened instinctively, though his expression did not fully betray the impact.
This was not something he had chosen.
Not something he had agreed to willingly.
And yet, whether he accepted it or not, his life now stood bound to hers…balanced on the fragile line of her survival.
Auren stepped closer to Asric, his silver eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp warning.
“You must listen to me.
Do not open a gate here whenever the whim strikes you.
You must be careful.
If the servants see the magic or catch a glimpse of you, this fragile disguise will shatter.
I cannot have them questioning why a high lord is visiting a common hand.”
Asric shrugged casually, leaning back against a tree.
“I knew you were alone, cousin.
I thought you might appreciate the company while you’re ‘relaxing’ in the dirt.
Besides, you need to find a more permanent solution.
How long can you live like this, working as a servant and sleeping in a shack?
Just bring the girl with you. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Let her work at your palace.”
Auren’s jaw tightened at the suggestion.
He thought of Evryn…the way her hazel eyes burned with defiance even when she was exhausted, and the way she had shielded his dignity in the kitchen.
“It is not that easy,” Auren said, his tone heavy with frustration.
“She is engaged, and she has a best friend she treats like blood.
“She won’t just leave them and come to our world, not even for all the gold in the Shadow Realm,” Auren muttered, his voice tightening with a bitter sort of resignation.
“For now, I have no choice except to wait and stay by her side.”
Asric let out a low, amused hum, his eyes drifting toward the path leading back to the house.
“Mmm, I see.
My curiosity is just high, Auren.
I want to see your little bird.”
“I killed a man in the market today,” Auren cut in flatly, his silver eyes turning entirely to stone as he changed the subject.
“Hide it.
Pay whoever you have to.
I don’t know who he was, but I don’t want anyone coming to search for me here.”
Asric blinked, his amused expression vanishing into a sharp, serious mask.
He studied his brother’s rigid posture for a beat before nodding slowly.
“I will handle it.
Consider it gone.” Then, his eyes narrowed with a sudden realization.
“Did you kill him for her?”
Auren didn’t answer.
He simply stared ahead, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack.
Asric let out a low, disbelieving whistle, a sharp laugh bubbling up from his chest.
“Damn, brother.
You are drifting hard.
Are you still trying to convince yourself that you hate her?”
Before Auren could respond, he felt it.
The pull in his chest shifted…subtle, but unmistakable.
A connection tightening.
Drawing closer.
Auren lowered the letter slowly, the paper folding between his fingers, and lifted his gaze toward Asric.
One glance was enough to understand the problem, there would be no hiding what they were.
“Fuck,” Auren muttered quietly.
“She is coming.”
Asric’s lips curved faintly.
Evryn stepped into the garden moments later.
She slowed when she saw a second man standing beside Auren.
Auren stepped forward slightly.
“Are you alright?” he asked her first.
She nodded.
“I am fine.” Her eyes had already moved to Asric.
“So?
you have guests” she asked.
Auren exhaled slowly.
“This is Asric.
Asric, this is Evryn.”
Asric stepped forward with smooth confidence.
He took her hand gently and bowed, pressing a polite kiss against her knuckles.
“A pleasure,” he said warmly.
Auren watched the gesture with a sharp gaze, he knew his cousin well.
Asric enjoyed complexity.
He enjoyed tension, enjoyed pushing situations until they twisted.
Evryn studied Asric carefully.
She noticed at once how similar they were in posture and speech.
The controlled movements.
The authority beneath calm voices.
Yet they were not the same.
One dressed as a noble.
One dressed as a servant.
The contrast was impossible to ignore, and they stand close to each other.
Evryn looked between them, a mischievous smile finally breaking through her hesitation.
She looked right at Asric, then slid her eyes over to Auren.
“I was always teasing him by calling him ‘Your Highness,'” she murmured, her hazel eyes dancing.
“But when I see the two of you together like this, I am starting to wonder.
Is Auren really a part of a palace, or some secret royal entity like you?
Should I be worrying about myself?”
Asric let out a loud, booming laugh, the tension breaking instantly.
“No worries, Evryn!
Your neck is perfectly safe for now.”
Auren knew her well enough to see the questions forming in her mind.
Before she could ask, he spoke to Asric calmly.
“Thank you for your visit,” he said evenly.
Asric’s smile deepened slightly, he understood the dismissal.
“It seems I arrived at the wrong time,” Asric replied lightly.
Without further explanation, he stepped back.
This time he did not use the magic.
He walked to the gate of the farm until the gate swallowed his presence.
Evryn stared at the empty space for a moment.
Auren studied her expression carefully.
He wished briefly, for the first time in his life, that he possessed Asric’s gift to read thoughts, he wanted to know what she was thinking.
She turned to him slowly, her gaze heavy and exhausted.
Auren’s jaw tightened, his silver eyes narrowing slightly.
“Stop calling me that.”
“I thought you liked it,” Evryn murmured, a faint, tired trace of her usual defiance flickering in her eyes.
“Something that suits your arrogance.”
She let out a soft sigh, looking away from him as she pulled her wrap tighter around herself.
“Thank you for saving me.
You can rest today as a reward.”
She began to turn away.
Without thinking, he reached for her wrist gently and stopped her.
He stepped closer.
Up close, he could see the darkened skin beneath her eye and the small wound near her brow.
The sight tightened something deep inside him.
His hand remained around her wrist, careful.
He wanted to lift his fingers to her face, to check the swelling himself, but he stopped.
Focus, Auren.
You protect her, if she dies, you die.
That is what matters.
He released her slowly, pulling his hand back to his side.
For the first time, she saw something different in his eyes.
The sharpness was still there, but beneath it was softness she had not seen before, and for a brief moment, neither of them spoke and something between them had shifted again.
Auren starts working nearby, repairing a broken wooden crate.
His movements were calm and precise, rolled his sleeves back, revealing the strength in his forearms as he handled the tools carefully.
There was something naturally commanding about him, something that drew attention without him asking for it.
Even when he was still, he seemed impossible to ignore.
Evryn stood near the laundry tables in the courtyard, carefully sorting the freshly folded cloth into neat piles.
From the corner of her eye, she watched the younger maids drifting closer to him, circling slowly, adjusting their hair, laughing a little too brightly as they tried their luck.
And yet, he did not encourage them.
He did not lean closer.
He did not smile in invitation.
He did not take advantage of the attention so easily offered.
He listened politely when spoken to, answered briefly, and then let silence fall again.
There was no hunger in his gaze, no playful indulgence, none of the behavior expected from a man surrounded by admiration.
He was calm.
Detached.
Almost uninterested.
As if he had long ago learned that attention meant nothing to him.
That afternoon, sunlight filtered through the courtyard trees as they worked near the storage tables.
A breeze moved softly, lifting loose strands of her hair across her face.
She ignored it at first, focused on checking supplies.
But noticing the tall figure still lingering silently in her shadow, she finally stopped and looked up.
“I told you to rest, yet you remain right beside me,” Evryn said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Do you love to work that bad?”
Auren tilted his head, his silver eyes tracking the stray hairs blowing across her face.
A slow, faint smirk returned to his lips, though his tone carried a rare, quiet gravity.
“You are the one who should be resting,” he murmured.
“Not me.”
Without thinking, Auren reached forward and brushed the strands gently away from her eyes.
He did not plan the gesture; he did not measure it.
His fingers barely touched her skin.
There was no arrogance in his expression now…only a quiet, heavy focus, as if he had acted on instinct and realized too late the weight of what he had done.
“You forget yourself often,” she said softly.
He stepped back then, restoring the distance between them.
“You observe too much,” he replied.
She turned to face him fully.
“You are not meant for this role, Auren,” she said.
He did not deny it.
“I have worked beside vampire servants before.
I can see the differences clearly”.
she continued.
His silver eyes remained steady, catching the afternoon light.
“And what’s the differences?” he asked.
“You are Like someone used to command,” she answered calmly.
“Like someone who expects space to be made for him.”
She glanced toward the garden where Asric had stood before, his presence still lingering in the air.
“And your friend,” she added, “he carried the same air.”
He noticed she remembered.
“I do not ask questions,” she continued.
“It is not my place.
I do not know your story, you are here.
I will do my work.
That is enough.”
She paused, looking at his hands, which showed no sign of the day’s strain.
“I guess you are a noble man, but fate made you work as a servant.
Perhaps you lost your money or have debts you cannot escape.
I just want to say you can work alone.
This will make your salary higher, and you can even earn a promotion into a head servant position.”
Auren smiled under his breath, a small, dark amusement touching his lips as he listened to her suggestions.
He studied her face, realizing she was not demanding the truth, which unsettled him more than any interrogation.
“Are you truly helping me,” he said, his voice smooth and observant, “or do you simply want to be free from me?”
Evryn smiled, though her eyes held a trace of exhaustion.
“Both.
Just do something for yourself.”
“I am fine beside you,” he replied simply.