#68

‘There’s a limit to how much indulgence I can tolerate.’

Thought Zerakiel, feeling his temper flare. For a moment, he considered Ivan’s suggestion to make an example out of this Hebel servant by cutting off his head.

But the situation was still too unclear.

He had too many questions—how exactly had Cersia managed to save his father? Why had Zakari suddenly lost control? And since Cersia was involved, he couldn’t afford to act recklessly.

If anything happened that brought trouble to Cersia, it would be a problem for him as well.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and turned his gaze in the direction where Cersia had disappeared.

Her actions, which had seemed reckless, had produced a miraculous result. But that miracle had come right after handling an overwhelming amount of pheromone poison.

‘Will she be all right?’

Instinctively, he began to worry about Cersia’s well-being.

Honestly, he wanted to run to her right away. Dealing with these insignificant pests was a waste of time when he could be by Cersia’s side.

But with the servants of Hebel having witnessed everything, he knew it was more important to put out the fire here before it spread.

“We assure you, this is a misunderstanding. To clarify once more, Hebel does not treat Jabis any differently than other families.”

During this time, Isaac had regained his composure and attempted to explain.

“A misunderstanding?”

“Yes. We only wished to verify the recent incident, as it might have far-reaching effects across Amataras. If our actions were offensive, we apologize.”

His humbled and polite response made Zerakiel’s golden eyes narrow.

“Verify, you say…”

It was obvious that they were looking for a pretext to bind Jabis with yet another restriction.

They feared the power of Jabis, but at the same time, they were always scheming to manipulate it to their advantage.

Zerakiel, weary of their tiresome and ugly tactics, asked with a sardonic smile, “And what exactly do you need to verify?”

“Well…”

“Nothing happened, didn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“So, the upheaval in Amataras that you’re so worried about won’t be happening.”

Isaac opened his mouth, clearly flustered by Zerakiel’s straightforward answer, but no words came out.

Zerakiel folded his arms, continuing to pressure them. “I’ll accept your apology.”

“Thank you, we—”

“But this matter took place on Jabis territory. Outsiders should no longer interfere. My patience ends here.”

Zerakiel’s firm dismissal left Isaac swallowing hard. With the line clearly drawn, any further interference was impossible.

Returning to Hebel to regroup would be the wiser choice now.

In the end, Isaac took a step back, realizing that pushing any further would yield nothing.

“We’ll withdraw for now. But rest assured, we’ll meet again soon.”

His tone was insolent for someone who had been so terrified moments ago. Zerakiel tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Frankly, you’d be better off never seeing me again.”

“Ahem. Apologies for the inconvenience.”

With a nervous cough, Isaac led his group away, the implicit threat in Zerakiel’s words clearly weighing on him.

Among them, a petite girl with blue eyes kept glancing back. It seemed she had something to say, but Zerakiel, already walking in the direction where Cersia had gone, did not notice.

And so, the grand wedding concluded in unexpected chaos.

* * *

Zerakiel stared intently at Cersia, who lay asleep in bed. According to Melina, she had only fallen into a deep sleep due to the aftereffects of using her pheromones excessively.

The feeling he’d experienced when he rushed over, panicking at the news that she had collapsed, only to find her sleeping soundly and even snoring, was beyond words.

Recalling that moment, Zerakiel let out another disbelieving chuckle.

“She really knows how to keep me on my toes.”

It was a strange feeling, like Cersia had stormed through his mind and left everything in disarray.

For someone like Zerakiel, who rarely experienced emotional highs or lows, it was a difficult phenomenon to adjust to.

Like a stone tossed into a still lake, Cersia stirred up his heart, making it restless and chaotic.

Perhaps that was why, when it came to matters involving her, he found himself behaving in uncharacteristic ways.

Zerakiel leaned closer to the softly snoring Cersia, studying her face.

Sniff, sniff.

His actions, even while absurd, held a certain seriousness.

“Still can’t quite sense it.”

Was it that mysterious creature again, the one that looked like a whale or a fish? Judging by how the servants from Hebel had reacted, that whale was likely something significant.

But that was as far as it went.

‘As if I’d let anyone take what’s mine.’

Zerakiel’s expression turned cold, his eyes glinting with the fierce determination of someone who had nearly lost something precious.

Just then, a familiar sweet scent tickled his nose. As he caught the scent, his anger began to ebb.

“At this distance, I can sense it clearly.”

The fragrance seemed especially potent when she was asleep. It was faint compared to when she first bit him, but still noticeable.

Zerakiel’s thoughts drifted back to the moment when Cersia’s pheromones had erupted, overwhelming the air around them.

It had been an intense rush, a scent so potent it sent chills down his spine. For the first time, he found another’s pheromones genuinely threatening.

If the whale hadn’t appeared, he might have instinctively perceived the danger and sunk his fangs into her neck.

Her scent triggered something primal. For someone who hadn’t yet fully matured, it was remarkable.

Even for Zerakiel, who found himself captivated by that scent, it seemed like he’d need to prepare some sort of countermeasure.

“This could be a little dangerous.”

Perhaps it would be wiser to keep some distance until she matured. Her pheromones would stabilize more by then.

“But I don’t want to sleep separately.”

He had already grown accustomed to having Cersia by his side. Now, he couldn’t fall asleep if she wasn’t there.

Whenever he stroked her soft fur as she slept, he found it easier to drift off. Even after she transformed into her human form, it was the same.

Simply having her nearby gave him a sense of calm, like holding onto a beloved comfort object.

Cersia would probably be annoyed if she heard him describe her as a sort of sedative, but what could he do?

His body had grown completely attuned to her presence.

That’s why he hesitated.

‘Maybe it’ll be fine for a little longer. If things get too difficult, I can distance myself then.’

Just as Zerakiel was about to pull back, lost in thought, Cersia suddenly shifted in her sleep, raising her head.

In that moment—

Boop.

Something soft brushed against the tip of his nose, catching him completely off guard.

“!”

Zerakiel’s eyes snapped open wide. The faint touch lingered on the tip of his nose, leaving a vivid sensation.

“Mm.”

Cersia smacked her lips and turned over, snuggling deeper into the blankets, her back now facing him as she continued to sleep soundly, even kicking off her covers in her deep slumber.

“…”

Zerakiel froze in place, still bent over in the same posture.

‘What just happened? Did I imagine that?’

It had been the lightest of touches, yet his mind went blank.

The sensation was entirely different from when she had bitten his finger or slapped his cheek.

It left him feeling parched, like a sudden thirst had taken over. Reflexively, Zerakiel sat up and covered his nose.

He hadn’t even realized how much his blood was rushing.

“Ha.”

His heart pounded wildly. He couldn’t believe how much he was affected by what was essentially an accident.

No, maybe he had expected something like this. He suddenly recalled Cersia’s words from earlier.

 

‘Is that truly what you want?’

 

It was the first time anyone had questioned him about his desires regarding something he took for granted.

And the moment she asked him that, his entire world had filled with Cersia.

Something that had once seemed as small as a dot had grown, snowballing until it occupied his entire being.

There was no denying it now.

He had completely fallen for the cheeky white weasel who tried to understand every inch of his heart.

It was a feeling far too deep to turn back from. Not that he had any intention of turning back, anyway.