Chapter 55: Spy?

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Spy?

"Who are you?"

The man’s voice slithered through the darkness like smoke, low and unfamiliar. Definitely not one of the triplets. Definitely not Kyler. A complete stranger. In a dark room. Holding her hostage.

Great. Just great.

Azura wanted to scream. She wanted to flip around and demand he repeat the question while she was shoving a bread roll into his nostril. But with his hand clamped over her mouth, all she could manage was a series of increasingly frustrated muffled noises.

"Mmph! Mmppphhh mmpph mmph!"

(Translation: "I CAN’T ANSWER IF YOU’RE COVERING MY MOUTH, YOU ABSOLUTE CABBAGE!")

She flailed her arms wildly, hoping to communicate through interpretive dance—or anything—but in the pitch-black room, her movements were about as effective as break dancing for a blindfolded mannequin. The man didn’t seem impressed.

He seemed to pause, considering her struggle. Then, instead of releasing her, he tilted his head.

"Ah. You’re the girl they brought here from the southern region."

Azura stopped flailing. She could feel his scrutiny through the darkness, like he was studying her like a particularly confusing crossword puzzle.

"Your first day and you’re already sneaking into this wing?" His tone shifted, suspicion dripping into his words like poison into a teacup. "Did you come here for a specific reason? No way someone who just arrived last night would try to enter here without a reason... unless..."

She felt his grip tighten slightly.

"... unless you’re following me. Do you know who I am?" A pause. Longer this time. More loaded. "Don’t tell me you’re one of my father’s people."

Azura’s eye twitched. She felt a vein pulse in her forehead. She didn’t know who this man was. She didn’t care who this man was. She didn’t care if he was the secret love child of the Moon Goddess and a very dramatic raven. She wanted FOOD. She wanted to find the KITCHEN. She wanted to stuff her face with whatever edible substances existed in this godforsaken mansion.

But instead, she was being held hostage by a man who clearly thought he was the protagonist of a spy thriller, while her stomach was busy performing the soundtrack to a horror movie.

I JUST WANT FOOD! FOOD! DO I LOOK LIKE A SPY?! DO SPIES USUALLY ENTER ENEMY TERRITORY WHILE ACTIVELY HAVING A MENTAL BREAKDOWN OVER FOOD?!

That was it. The final straw.

Azura’s soul left her body. She saw herself floating above the scene, watching this absolute disaster unfold. She saw Karina’s possessed scooter. She saw herself riding it straight into this man’s kneecaps.

Instead, she stomped.

Hard.

Right on his foot.

"FUCK—!" The man howled, instinctively releasing her to clutch his injured appendage.

Azura whirled around, jabbing a finger in the general direction of his voice.

"I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE! I ONLY CARE ABOUT EATING! I JUST WANT TO FIND THE KITCHEN! I HAVE BEEN KIDNAPPED, DRUGGED, WOKE UP IN A STRANGE BED, AND NOW I’M BEING INTERROGATED IN THE DARK BY A STRANGER WHO THINKS I’M A SECRET AGENT WHEN ALL I WANT IS A SINGLE MOMENT OF PEACE AND THREE BOWLS OF NOODLES THAT ACTUALLY HAS CALORIES!"

She took a breath, ready to unleash round two.

"YOU—"

THWACK.

A sharp impact connected with the side of her neck.

Azura’s eyes rolled back. Her rant died mid-sentence. Her body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

Her last coherent thought before darkness consumed her was a singular, furious realization:

Again?! First I got drugged by a dart from the male leads, and NOW I get knocked out by a random stranger in a dark room?! All in ONE DAY?! This is a personal record! A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad personal record! I want a refund on this isekai experience!

Then, she was out cold.

The man stood there, still wincing, rubbing his foot. He looked down at the unconscious woman sprawled at his feet. And soon her words registered.

Eat. Kitchen.

"...Wait."

He squinted through the darkness—though, technically, that was a redundant action since his wolf eyes could see the dust particles floating in the air. What he saw was a woman. Disheveled. Clearly lost. And apparently so hangry that her stomach chose that exact moment to announce its grievances with a sound that echoed off the walls like a dying whale.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The man blinked.

He had knocked her out.

When all she wanted was food.

When all she wanted was to find the kitchen.

...Oh.

He pinched the bridge of his nose so hard he might’ve bruised it. A long, weary sigh escaped his lips—the kind of sigh that carried the weight of a man who had just realized he was the villain in someone else’s origin story.

"She was just hungry," he muttered to himself, staring down at her unconscious form like she was a tragic footnote in his personal biography. "I knocked out a hungry woman looking for the kitchen. In a house she doesn’t know. On her first day here. While she was having a mental breakdown about noodles."

He looked at his throbbing foot. Then back at her. Then back at his foot.

"...Respectable stomp, though."

In his defense, he’d thought she was a spy. Someone his father sent. Someone who knew his secret. But no. She was just... someone hungry.

The man crouched down, studying her face. And then—like a puzzle piece clicking into place—he suddenly understood why she had wandered around like a lost ghost in a haunted mansion.

The rumors. The damn rumors about the Future Luna had spread like wildfire through the pack this morning. By the time breakfast ended, the Alphas had caught wind of it. And being the controlling, micromanaging overlords they were, they had immediately ordered every single pack member to gather in the courtyard for a "clarification meeting." Everyone was still there. Being lectured. Being threatened. Being forced to listen to Caelus monologue about the importance of "accurate information dissemination."

That was why no one was around to help Azura.

That was why she had wandered alone.

That was why she had stumbled into this wing.

Even the two maids Azura had chased earlier—they’d been on their way to feed a snack to the Alphas’ prized iguana before heading to the courtyard. But thanks to Azura’s unexpected appearance, they had dropped everything.

The bread she had devoured like a feral raccoon?

Yeah. That bread was meant for the iguana. She had committed a crime against reptile cuisine and she didn’t even know it.

Finally, he scooped her up with little effort, cradling her against his chest. As he adjusted his hold, Azura’s face scrunched up—even unconscious, she was pissed. Her lips moved, and a groggy mutter slipped out:

"You... unknown NPC... how dare you knock me out... if I knew who you were... I’d run you over with that possesed scooter..."

The man’s lips twitched. A snort escaped him—genuine amusement flickering in his eyes.

He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, voice low and teasing. She wouldn’t hear him—she was completely out—but he said it anyway.

"Well, try to find me then. If you can guess who I am, I’ll let you do anything to me."

A pause.

"...Within reason. Don’t actually run me over with a scooter. I have plans this decade."

He carried her out of the dark room, a small smirk playing on his lips.

This was going to be interesting.