"W-what?"
Elowyn stared at him, blinking rapidly as if trying to shatter a waking dream.
Surely her ears weren’t failing her.
Between the missing tree and encountering a not-so-sure if it’s a spirit plant, her sanity seemed to have finally snapped. She raised a hand to rub her temples, hoping reality would reassemble itself before looking at him.
"Don’t mind me... I think something must be wrong with my hearing. You– you were saying?"
"If you prefer," Ares murmured, his eyes holding hers captive. "I am willing to play the part as your husband."
Elowyn felt the blood rush entirely from her face. "I heard you the first time, but why would you offer me something like that? How did you even know that I needed a husband? I never told you about it, yet you figured it out?"
Ares didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smoothly pivoted, walking back over to the fur pallet inside the shelter and lowering his frame with a soft wince. After steadying himself, he patted the empty space beside him, fixing her with an unblinking look till she reluctantly sat down.
"Let’s be honest with ourselves," he began, his tone unyielding. "Our food stores are nearly gone. I may be injured, but I’m not blind. This shelter kept us alive through the storm, but it won’t sustain us through what’s coming. I need time for my mind and body to recover, and you need a husband to protect and help you reclaim your rights. It can be a logical, mutually beneficial agreement."
Elowyn’s mind scrambled to catch up. "That’s... I don’t even know what to say. How did you know?"
Ares looked away, a sudden rare flicker of hesitation crossing his striking features as his eyes suddenly found a very interesting spot on the leather flap. "Let’s just say—"
"Ting!"
The tiny spirit plant suddenly popped into existence on his shoulder, and Elowyn glared at the leaf spirit.
"You little snitch. It was you, wasn’t it?!"
The miniscule menace blinked its massive green eyes and tilted its head with a confused ting.
The absolute traitor!
She had spent the morning paranoid that it was a man-eating monster, when it was actually running a local gossip service behind her back!
But still...
She turned to Ares. "Are you certain about this? Those people aren’t going to roll a welcome mat for us. You’re still a shiftless. I just fear they won’t go easy on a male who cannot shift." You are reading on g.com, the official source.
"Let me handle the risk," he replied. "Just answer me this. If I stand by your side as your husband, does it satisfy their law?"
Elowyn swallowed hard, the gravity of his genuine offer settling deep into her bones. For years, she had been utterly alone in the IronFang tribe, but listening to Ares, a fierce glimmer of hope was finally breaking through her helplessness, lifting the suffocating pressure of her chest.
She nodded with a fragile, genuine smile. "It does. They only demanded I bring a mate. They didn’t specify who it had to be."
The prospect of marching back to the IronFang settlement and reclaiming her home felt intoxicatingly sweet.
It felt like a waking dream.
"I just have one critical condition," Ares interposed, cutting through her thoughts. "Because this is strictly a functional alliance, the moment my memory returns and your standing is secure, our arrangement ends. To ensure there are no future complications, no emotional entanglement is to be formed."
Elowyn instantly exhaled the tension in her shoulders, clasping her fingers together. "Agreed. Absolutely no romance. Once we’re safe, we go our separate ways, and I’ll make sure you are well-compensated."
"There is no need for that," he murmured, subtly adjusting his posture against the merciless pull of his stitches. "You saved my life. Consider this my repayment."
Elowyn turned away, biting her lip to hide the ecstatic grin threatening to split her face.
She was going home.
Then, blood rushed to her ears as terrifying logistical nightmares struck her. She whipped back around, gasping softly. "Wait, we still need to perform the traditional marriage rituals! We don’t have half the ceremonial items, but we can still perform the binding rites, else the elders won’t accept it! They’re going to need proof of our union, won’t they?"
Ares stared at her, entirely out of depth. "Proof? What do you mean?"
"Tonight," she blurted out, blissfully unaware of the cardiac arrest she was causing as she nervously twirled a lock of her hair. "You know, the physical binding rites that happen between a man and a woman."
Ares blinked once. Twice.
Was she saying—?
He violently averted his gaze, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. "Absolutely not. I gave no consent to that."
Her brows knitted in utter confusion. "What? What do you mean no? It’s mandatory."
"First of all, we barely know each other," he fired back, his voice dropping to a tight, scandalized register. "And for the record, in case you forgot, I am still stitched together like a ragdoll and in the middle of recovery. I am physically incapable of participating–"
"Oh, you don’t have to worry about any of that," she interrupted cheerfully, waving a dismissive hand. "I’ll take care of everything myself. You won’t even have to lift a finger."
Ares sat completely paralyzed, staring at her wide, blindingly innocent eyes.
Was this woman completely devoid of shame?!
Did she really want the marriage consummated that badly?
And sweet gods above, what did she mean by she would take care of it herself?! Was she experienced in this? Is this a normal occurrence for her?!
"Be ready, okay?"
Elowyn beamed an entirely unbothered smile and smoothly slipped through the tent flap, leaving him drowning in a sea of silent panic.
Ares didn’t move a muscle.
He stared blankly at the spot where she had just vanished, his mind completely short-circuiting. Was she actually this bold? Or was she already attracted to him? Did she look at his scarred,stitched-up frame and decided he was fair game for a forced honeymoon?!
He glanced down at his abdomen, narrowing his eyes with sudden betrayal. He mentally cursed whatever divine architect had designed his physique to remain devastatingly sculpted.
"Ting...ting."
He snapped his head toward the shoulder. The wretched little spirit plant was practically bouncing up and down, radiating unadulterated joy on his imminent demise.
While the accursed plant celebrated their romantic future, Ares stared into the middle distance, desperately trying to calculate how a rational man was supposed to prepare for a night he never asked for.