#76

‘A white fox?’

Not a white weasel, but a white fox exuding the aura of a mate bond?

Zerakiel rubbed his eyes in disbelief and looked again, but the only thing in front of him was a white fox.

Moreover, the creature circling around the fox protectively was Tabby, the Guardian.

“Could it be?”

“Chuu!”

The white fox cried out the moment it saw Zerakiel and rushed toward him. Zerakiel extended his arms, safely catching the fox as it jumped.

Upon closer inspection, there was no doubt—it was Cersia. Zerakiel, who didn’t care about her form as long as it was her, greeted her playfully as soon as he recognized her.

“How did you end up changing species? While you were at it, you should’ve become a lion. A white lion would’ve been beautiful.”

“Chuuu!”

Cersia snuggled into Zerakiel’s chest and mumbled something, her body trembling as if she was frightened.

Sensing the oddness of the situation, Zerakiel set aside his teasing tone.

“Chichi, calm down. It’s okay.”

He patted her back repeatedly to soothe her, but her trembling didn’t stop. Tears streamed endlessly from her eyes, and just as Zerakiel felt his composure beginning to crack, Ivan spoke with a bewildered expression.

“What? That fox is Lady Chichi? A pheromone that transforms someone into a fox—it’s a specialty of the fox clan…”

Ivan trailed off, closing his mouth abruptly. After all, there was someone here who could potentially transform a normal beast into a fox. Kiera’s stiffened expression indicated she was thinking the same thing.

Zerakiel, his face dark and intimidating, growled at Ivan.

“Bring them to me.”

“Me?”

“Who else here but you?”

At Zerakiel’s sharp retort, Ivan glanced at Kiera for help. Kiera, looking exasperated, replied, “Acting rashly without solid proof could escalate this into a conflict between families.”

“Exactly,” Ivan added with a shrug. Zerakiel growled in frustration as Ivan reluctantly prepared to act.

Meanwhile, Cersia, who had somewhat calmed down, leapt from Zerakiel’s arms and began scribbling something on the ground. This instantly captured Zerakiel’s full attention.

Seizing the opportunity, Ivan discreetly retreated, watching Cersia’s actions closely from the sidelines.

With all her might, Cersia used her whole body to convey her message, even punctuating her writing with a decisive dot. She then turned to Kiera, the most dependable one in the group.

As expected, Kiera squinted at the writing and began to read.

“This is…”

After scrutinizing the ground for a while, Kiera looked at Cersia and asked politely, “What exactly is this supposed to say?”

At that, Cersia smacked her chest dramatically and collapsed in frustration. Judging by her actions, she was utterly exasperated.

‘Even you, Kiera! I had faith in you!’

Communicating in an emergency as a fox was proving far too difficult.

‘What do I do? If this goes on, Mother will be in danger!’

Desperate, Cersia lay flat on the ground, her paws flailing anxiously.

Zerakiel, meanwhile, scooped her up with practiced ease. She kept beating her chest and trying to explain, clearly distressed. Given her demeanor, the situation was undoubtedly serious.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Kiera asked hesitantly, “Could it be that Lord Zerakiel understands what she’s trying to say?”

“Strange writing…”

No matter how many times Kiera looked at the scrawled letters on the floor, they remained utterly bizarre. Neither worms nor fish—they resembled something entirely alien, as if written in a new language.

Certain that even Zerakiel wouldn’t be able to decipher it, Kiera decided to speak up.

“I’ll check the infirmary to see if there’s an antidote for this shapeshifting spell.”

She turned on her heel, ready to dash off without waiting for a response. Just then, Zerakiel, who had been staring intently at the floor, muttered.

“Erhardin… That bastard fed Mother a fox bead.”

“What?!”

Kiera stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around in shock. The normally composed expression on her face shattered entirely.

A fox bead? What sort of beast would stoop so low as to use such forbidden magic? It wasn’t just immoral—it was a grave crime.

Kiera’s expression quickly turned icy. The mention of the fox bead made Rachel’s recent behavior suddenly make sense. Grinding her teeth, she hissed.

“So that’s why Lady Rachel has been acting so uncharacteristically quiet!”

Yes, Rachel was not someone who would ever consider filing for custody lawsuits or other legal means against Zakari. If anything, she’d prefer to resolve matters physically rather than bother with strategies.

Take earlier, for instance—did she not charge at Zakari, who was disguised as a yellow lion, threatening to kill him on sight?

That bold, reckless attitude was what Kiera had admired when she swore her allegiance to Rachel. Realizing now that Rachel’s unusual behavior wasn’t due to some change of heart but because of that fox, Kiera felt an odd sense of relief.

“Of course, fox beads can only exert control when in close proximity…”

She had found it suspicious ever since the fox began hanging around the estate and loitering near Rachel.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, Kiera grew frustrated at how long it had taken her to realize the truth. Who’s to say that fox hadn’t tried something on her as well?

“This wretched fox…”

Kiera seemed on the verge of storming off to capture Erhardin herself but suddenly stopped in her tracks, turning to Zerakiel.

“?”

Zerakiel glanced at her as if to say, “What are you waiting for?” Kiera hesitated for a moment before asking, with a rather serious expression.

“But, did you say you understood that writing?”

That nightmarish scrawl?

Really?

Kiera’s tone was incredulous, but Zerakiel grinned smugly, as if the question itself were unnecessary.

“Of course. Whose writing do you think it is?”

The former master and current husband of the white weasel, proud of his self-declared title as her “foot rug,” made it clear. Even if all she did was stamp her paw, he could interpret her intent. The fact that she had gone as far as to write actual letters made it all the easier.

Zerakiel lifted his chin proudly, and Ivan, standing nearby, quipped.

“As expected, a true connoisseur of Lady Chichi’s footprints.”

“You want to be stepped on next?”

“Please, don’t say such upsetting things.”

Ivan shook his head fervently, retreating backward. He knew full well the likelihood of Zerakiel actually stomping on him was dangerously high.

“Chuu!”

At that moment, Cersia, still in her white fox form, patted Zerakiel’s head in praise. Zerakiel’s mood instantly brightened, and he grinned as though he had never been annoyed in the first place.

A black lion, blushing from a fox’s touch.

Kiera couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the first time she had ever seen such a thing in her life.

This family was getting more and more absurd the longer she stayed.

‘Let’s not think too much about it.’

Deciding to abandon all attempts at rational thought, Kiera gave a hollow laugh and bolted off to hunt down Erhardin.

There was only one reason she moved faster than before—staying any longer might risk her being infected by the sheer lunacy of this household.

* * *

The moment Kiera disappeared entirely, a sudden *pop* echoed, and Cersia regained her original form.

“Huh?”

She looked down at her hands, tilting her head in confusion as if even she didn’t understand what had just happened.

Ivan leaned in, peering at her curiously before muttering, “What? You’re back already?”

“Yeah… What just happened?”

“That’s strange. There’s no way the fox was caught this quickly.”

Kiera had only just left to track the fox down. No matter how fast she was, it was impossible for her to have apprehended it in such a short time.

Cersia and Ivan exchanged bewildered glances, both tilting their heads repeatedly in mutual confusion.

Meanwhile, Zerakiel’s demeanor turned uncharacteristically serious. He stood motionless, staring intently at Cersia.

‘Does the healing system even have such an ability?’

Healing pheromones were meant to aid recovery—at best, they could neutralize toxins. But they weren’t known to undo shapeshifting spells.

Yet somehow, Erhardin’s pheromones had been dispelled this quickly.

Erhardin Rodin hailed from a family renowned among fox beastkin for their mastery of shapeshifting. Someone with his expertise would never make such an amateur mistake.

That left only one possibility: Cersia had undone the pheromones herself.

Zerakiel’s expression remained unreadable as he recalled their first meeting—how she had succumbed to his pheromones but recovered almost immediately.

It was as if she possessed a latent immunity that defied expectations, and it left Zerakiel deeply unsettled.

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