She originally didn’t want to pay attention to him, but he forcibly pulled her to the side of the table, where he hooked a square paper box with his long fingers and placed it in front of her.
“What is it?” She looked at the box with some confusion; a dried rose was pinned on top.
“A gift.” He smiled mysteriously, gesturing with his eyes for her to open it.
She carefully pulled the dried flower out of the ribbon and placed it on the table. She untied the ribbon and opened the box’s lid, and a sour, cheesy smell rushed out. She frowned tightly, seeing that the box contained several dry pieces of Black Forest cake, the surface already hardened, probably having been left for four or five days. She was a bit puzzled; what did a dried rose and spoiled cake count as a gift?
“You little rascal, I should really make you eat all of this.” He held her puzzled little face and leaned down to kiss her slightly parted rose-colored lips fiercely. “I bought this myself, from the restaurant where I went to eat with Aikel and your friend Miss Annabel. But when I returned to the villa, what did I see? You were actually saying goodbye to that scoundrel at the door.”
She ignored his jealousy-laden tone, lowering her head and staring at the cake box, remaining silent.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” As soon as he finished speaking, large tears rolled down from her dark eyes, pouring out like a thunderstorm, increasingly overwhelming. Her tears left him somewhat at a loss. “I was just joking; how could I really make you eat? This cake is inedible.” He regretted saying what he just said, realizing that this little rascal had taken his joke seriously.
But she grabbed a piece and quickly stuffed it into her mouth.
“No!” He hurriedly grasped her wrist. The cream had already stuck to her dark hair, and his fingers dug into her lips, trying to pull the spoiled cake out. She suddenly opened her mouth and bit down on his finger, applying more and more pressure. His pupils dilated in shock at her savage action, his golden brows trembling, but he didn’t pull his finger away; instead, he let her teeth grip tightly, as if she intended to bite his finger until it bled.
“Is this revenge against me?” He frowned tightly, feeling a sharp pain in his fingertip, yet he couldn’t help but smile. “Revenge for leaving you alone in the marsh earlier?”
She finally released him, and on his finger, there were deep bite marks left by her, almost piercing the skin and drawing blood. Tears mixed with heartache and grievance fell from her dark eyes. She gritted her teeth and said, “Yes, that’s right, it’s revenge! You always try to abandon me.”
“Don’t cry, darling…” His hand gently brushed against her smooth cheek.
She pushed his hand away. “I don’t want to hear your sweet words!”
“I never wanted to abandon you,” he said, holding her delicate shoulders, making her face meet his ice-blue eyes. “I swear, I’ve never been this serious, even in front of a priest. You’re like a pure white candle; with you, my world is no longer pitch black.”
Her tear-filled dark eyes looked at him, the flickering candlelight in her pupils seemed to illuminate his heart.
He gazed back at her, his ice-blue pupils reflecting her beautiful silhouette. “I truly love you; please don’t doubt my sincerity.”
“All I can do is try to overcome my longing and confusion, wholeheartedly following you.” She leaned her head against his chest, making a muffled sound. “So, you can’t let me down.”
He tightened his embrace and said solemnly, “My angel, I will do everything I can to protect you from harm, just like I defend my achievements and honor.”
In the desolate night, there were no stars or moon; the only light in the darkness was the glowing tip of a cigar. She coughed from the smoke, turned her head, and curled up deeper into the covers, continuing her sweet slumber.
In the darkness, he gazed at her sleeping face. He thought he was calm enough, cold enough, to ignore the tears pooling in her dark eyes, to turn a deaf ear to the sound of her heart shattering like glass. But the moment he saw her flutter into that guy’s arms like a little bird outside the hotel door, he truly couldn’t hold back.
As his rival, the cunning fox known as Marcus wasn’t too shabby. There was a certain unspoken understanding between them; neither was willing to mention their intentions first. In this contest of courage, spirit, and intellect, she played the role of prey, bait, or the spoils of victory.
All of this unfolded quietly, with too many hidden truths that she remained oblivious to. He recalled the little one by the river, questioning why he would confront Marcus. He had boldly replied, “In the world of wolves, the female belongs to the victor.” But the reality was different. When his sword pierced the opponent’s chest, the victory in the duel did not win him love. Marcus, that fox, had played tricks, causing the blade to slip at the crucial moment, deliberately allowing him to be wounded. Clearly, he understood the rules of the game better, believing her inherent kindness would lead her to side with the weaker party, which is why he resorted to this method to win her sympathy.
He had given up the pursuit of the honor of victory, withdrawing from the duel midway, simply out of concern that this reckless little one might get hurt. He wondered if she could understand his intentions; at least this little dove had flown back into his embrace. What was Marcus’s withdrawal about? Beyond that tender veil, what unspeakable truths lay hidden?
