Chapter 56: Good Girl

Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Good Girl

Azura drifted in and out of consciousness like a lost raft on a gentle sea. The world swayed beneath her—rhythmic, almost soothing. She could smell something fresh. Earthy. Like pine trees after rain. Or maybe cedar. She wasn’t great at identifying scents unless they came in the form of "dumplings" or "fresh laundry."

Her cheek pressed against something warm. Firm. And moving.

Her half-lidded eyes cracked open, and through the blur of waking up, she registered a crucial piece of information:

She was being carried.

Bride-style.

By a man.

And not just any man—this man had the kind of physique that made architecture weep. Even through the fabric of his shirt, her traitorous cheek could feel the contours of a chest that belonged on a magazine cover. And her waist—strategically pressed against his stomach—was currently counting abs like a distracted math student.

One... two... three... is that eight or twelve? Wait, do humans even have twelve abs? Is this man a Dorito?

Azura Luo, a 25-year-old woman whose closest physical contact with a man prior to this had been accidentally brushing hands with a barista while grabbing her latte, felt a deep, cosmic sense of irony settle over her.

In her world? Zero hugs. Zero casual touches. She could count the number of times she’d been held on one hand and still have fingers left.

In this fictional hellscape? She’d been grabbed, hugged, drugged, carried, and manhandled more times in one day than in her entire life.

Her brain finally caught up with reality.

Wait. Wait a minute.

The man hugging her from behind earlier. The psycho who knocked her out. The one she swore revenge upon—

Is this him?!

A surge of righteous fury shot through her like a lightning bolt. Her eyes snapped open fully. Her jaw unhinged. She prepared to lunge forward and sink her teeth into the chest of her captor like a feral raccoon discovering a trash can.

But just as she opened her mouth wide enough to commit a felony, a voice cut through the air—cheerful, teasing, and distinctly not belonging to the man carrying her.

"Brother, you’re really treating her special." A pause, followed by an amused chuckle. "Usually you’d tell someone else to do the heavy lifting. But this is the first time I’ve seen you carry someone yourself. And that someone is this drooling woman who’s currently soaking your expensive shirt with her face juices."

Azura’s jaw froze mid-bite.

Another voice chimed in—smoother, lazier, dripping with playful arrogance.

"To be fair, I think this is a good sign. He usually prefers tasks that require brainpower. But this time, he took the initiative to do manual labor. Progress, I’d say. He’s finally growing as a person. Developing those biceps he’s been neglecting." A beat. "But seriously, brother—if you’re tired, I can take over. I promise I won’t drop her."

The man carrying her—the one whose chest she had almost bitten—replied with a flat, unimpressed tone:

"No need."

Azura’s brain finally caught up to the voices.

That’s... Caesar. And Caelian.

Which means... the guy carrying me is...

She didn’t even want to finish that thought.

She almost decided to pretend she was still unconscious. Close her eyes. Let the darkness take her. But then—

"Huh?"

Caesar’s voice rang out, sharp with amusement.

"Look! She opened her mouth wide like she wants to eat Caelus’s chest."

Azura realized with horror that her mouth was still hanging open, frozen mid-bite like a vampire caught in the middle of a photoshoot.

"Maybe she’s dreaming about breastfeeding," Caelian mused, his tone utterly serious despite the absolute nonsense coming out of his mouth. "Caelus, watch out—she wants to suck your nipple. Her belly won’t stop growling, so she’s basically a zombie now. She’ll eat anything." A dramatic sigh. "Better walk faster to the dining room, brother, or you’ll be a mother before you’re ready."

Azura’s face burned so hot she was pretty sure she could melt steel. She immediately clamped her mouth shut, squeezed her eyes closed, and prayed to every god in every universe that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

I am dead. I am deceased. I am a ghost haunting this mansion.

But her stomach—traitor that it was—chose that exact moment to let out a loud, gurgling growl that echoed through the hallway like a dying engine.

RRRRUMBLEEE.

Caesar let out a snort that could only be described as aggressively amused. "Whoa. Okay. Her stomach just announced its presence with the authority of a war drum. I thought it was loud when she was unconscious, but now? That thing is echoing. I’m pretty sure the kitchen staff just heard it and started panicking."

Azura wanted to die. She wanted the floor to open up. She wanted to reincarnate as a rock—a quiet rock, with no stomach, no hunger, and no triplets making fun of her.

Instead, she buried her face deeper into Caelus’s chest, praying for spontaneous combustion.

I’m not Azura anymore. I’m Caelus’s chest. I am now officially a piece of pectoral muscle. This is my life now.

Caelian, however, simply flashed a smile so angelic it should have come with a halo—and yet, his next words were pure demonic mischief. He patted Caelus on the shoulder, his gaze sliding down to the woman currently burying her face so deep into Caelus’s chest that she might as well have been trying to merge with his ribcage.

"You’re in grave danger right now, Caelus. I suggest you shift into your wolf immediately before she eats you," Caelian said, his tone mock-serious. "It’s a good thing it wasn’t Caesar carrying her—after the trauma of being sexually harassed by her boobs before, I don’t think he could handle his chest being violated too. Tsk tsk, our poor brother’s mental health can only take so much."

Caesar opened his mouth—presumably to say something along the lines of "shut the hell up"—but Azura beat him to it.

Her head snapped up, face blazing like a tomato that had just witnessed a crime. She turned to glare at Caelian with the fury of a thousand suns.

"SHUT UP! If you keep running your mouth, I swear I’ll bite your nipple and pull it like mozzarella cheese!! I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving, and I will commit crimes—"

Caelian’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, it grew. Brighter. More dangerous. Like a sunrise over a battlefield.

"Ohhh..." He tilted his head, his beautiful face the picture of innocence—and yet, his words dripped with playful wickedness. "I’d be more than happy to let you do that. I didn’t know you were so kinky, darling. And honestly? I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take it... further."

Azura’s brain short-circuited.

"You... you..."

Her face was now the color of a fire engine. Steam might have actually been rising from her scalp. She was fairly certain she was about to pass out again—not from drugs this time, but from sheer, cosmic embarrassment.

Caelus, who had been silently observing this chaos unfold against his chest, let out an unimpressed breath. Without a word, he quickened his pace—not quite a sprint, but close enough that the sudden shift in speed caused Azura to instinctively wrap her arms around his neck to avoid being flung off like a sack of potatoes.

"Sorry," Caelus said, his voice surprisingly even. "I forgot you haven’t eaten since yesterday. I should have prepared something in your room so you could eat when you woke up." A pause. "Hold on to me. I’ll get us to the dining room faster."

Azura barely had time to process his words before the world around her became a blur.

He wasn’t running—not quite. But he was moving at a speed that made the hallway stretch into a tunnel of colors. His footsteps were so quick and precise that it almost felt like floating. Like being in a dream.

Or a high-speed car chase. With abs.

Her stomach growled again, this time in what sounded like approval.

Shut up, stomach. You’re on my side, remember?

And in less than a minute—a trip that should have taken five minutes, minimum, on a good day with no obstacles—they arrived at the dining room. Azura felt like she’d just stepped off a roller coaster designed by a sadist. Her legs were jelly. Her brain was still catching up somewhere in the hallway. She was fairly certain she saw her own soul floating a few feet behind her.

I’m not seasick. I’m Caelus-sick. There should be a warning label on that man.

Caesar and Caelian, of course, had followed—Caesar had somehow arrived before them, because apparently being an Alpha meant you could teleport when food was involved. He immediately barked orders at the chef to whip up a feast before Azura transformed into an "Azurasaurus" and ate the furniture.

"FASTER!" Caesar clapped his hands like a stressed restaurant manager. "She’s making eyes at the table leg! We’re losing her!"

Minutes later, Azura felt like she had died and gone to heaven. The table was a landscape of culinary wonders: lobster, steaks, roasted vegetables, breads, sauces, and things she couldn’t even name but wanted to marry. The chef was clearly a magician disguised as a cook.

Despite the fact that she was, technically, a kidnapping victim, Azura ate like she was on an all-inclusive vacation at a five-star resort. Four plates. Four.

Normally, she could barely finish two. But today? Today, she was a woman possessed by the spirit of "I haven’t eaten in 24 hours and I will commit atrocities for this lobster." She ate like she was competing in the Hunger Games and this was her final meal.

The triplets, who had many things they wanted to discuss with her, simply watched in a mixture of awe, amusement, and mild concern. Caesar, in particular, was delighted. He kept piling meat onto her plate with the enthusiasm of a grandmother who thought you were too skinny.

"Eat, eat! You’re so skinny! Is your pack not feeding you? Here, more steak!"

He’d seen so many she-wolves pretend to eat tiny salads in public, only to gorge themselves in private later. Watching Azura eat without shame—without caring about her image, chewing like she was savoring life itself—was genuinely refreshing.

From the outside, it looked like Caesar was feeding a very beloved, very hungry pet. The only thing missing was a "Good Girl" head pat.

Finally, after she had eaten enough to enter a food coma, she leaned back in her chair, belly full, eyes half-lidded, looking like a satisfied cat who had just committed tax fraud and gotten away with it.

Caelus, who had been silent throughout the feast, finally spoke. His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp—watching her like a hawk.

"What actually happened to you earlier? The maids found you unconscious in the middle of the hallway and alerted us in panic. Did you pass out because you were hungry?"

Azura, who had just taken a large sip of juice to wash down her last bite of steak, froze.

Her eyes went wide.

Her cheeks puffed.

And then—

PFFFTTTTT.

A perfect, glorious, beautifully aimed spray of orange juice shot directly into Caesar’s face.

Caesar sat there. Frozen. His face wet. His bangs dripping. A single droplet of juice trailing down his chin.

Pure, undiluted betrayal bloomed in his eyes.

"...I fed you," he said, his voice eerily quiet. "I piled meat onto your plate. I saved you from becoming an Azurasaurus. And this is how you repay me? With your spit?"

"It was juice," Azura corrected weakly.

"IT WAS YOUR MOUTH JUICE."

Azura ignored him, slamming her glass down and pointing a dramatic finger at Caelus.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE MAIDS FOUND ME IN THE HALLWAY?!"

She was practically vibrating with outrage.

"So, you mean that JERK—that RANDOM UNKNOWN MAN—knocked me out and then just DUMPED ME in the middle of the hallway like I was a piece of forgotten luggage?! He could have at least put me on a bench! Or leaned me against a wall! Or left a note saying ’Handle With Care’!" She took a breath, her face reddening. "Maybe I should be grateful he didn’t kidnap me, unlike SOME PEOPLE in this room, I guess. But STILL! At least you guys had the decency to put me in a BED when you kidnapped me!"

The triplets stiffened.

The air around them changed.

It was subtle—barely perceptible—but the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. Their auras, previously warm and teasing, turned cold. Sharp. Dangerous.

Even Caesar, with his face still dripping with juice, went completely serious.

"What do you mean?" His voice was low now. No longer playful. "Who is this man you’re talking about? Did someone attack you when you left your room?"

Caelian was already pulling out his phone, fingers flying across the screen as he pulled up the CCTV footage.

Caelus said nothing. But his eyes were fixed on Azura like a hawk watching a mouse, and his mind was already linking with the guards and enforcers, sending silent orders through the pack bond. His jaw was tight.

When he finally spoke, his voice was ice.

"Explain. In detail."

Azura swallowed.

Her full stomach suddenly felt very heavy.

She looked at the three Alphas—one dripping with juice, one glued to his phone, one staring into her soul—and realized that whatever she was about to say would probably set off a bomb.

Great. Just great. I survived the food coma only to walk into a war.

"Okay, so... it all started when I woke up in that fancy room..."