TO TAME THE BRUTAL LYCAN BEAST-Chapter 59: THE NIGHT HAS JUST BEGUN

VALORIA WILDEROSE

I don’t go back in. Not yet.

Call it fear, maybe, or trauma, but I get the feeling that there’s another prank waiting inside for me—a trap I might fall into the moment I step into the building.

The tall, brilliant mansion looks like nothing more than a torture house, and I want to avoid setting foot in it as much as I can.

Instead, I walk down a familiar path I’d taken many times as a child—to cry or cool my head after falling out with my family, which happened far too often.

The path leads to the old tree I used to climb and hide in so they wouldn’t find me, even if they searched.

Finding that tall, massive wall of wood again and climbing into its branches, which conceal me from sight, fills me with instant relief and comfort.

I hug the thick trunk, nestling into it just like I used to on those days.

Back then, I’d let myself drown in thoughts of what my life would be like outside.

Only now, all I can think about—aside from home—is completing the mission. The only comfort and hope I can cling to is the goddess’s promise of revenge.

To be free of my family. To be truly free of the things that oppress me.

I wonder what that might be like—to wake up in the morning without a panic attack, to laugh out loud without being afraid that someone might try to take that joy away.

What does it feel like to not be scared every waking moment of one’s life?

I could find out once I kill Azrael.

I don’t know what his plan is—why he’d tell me bits of what he’s doing like that, revealing that he wants to attain godhood, something practically impossible.

Maybe he doesn’t believe I could stop him. Another taunt, meant to mock me, I presume.

But he doesn’t know. He has no idea just how far I’m willing to go to be free—especially after today’s events.

The sound of rustling leaves and deliberate footsteps pull me away from my relentless daydreaming.

I look down through the cover of branches and spot a tall figure pausing beneath the tree, easily figuring out where I am.

"Lady Valoria... is that you?" he calls out, almost startling me out of balance.

The voice is too familiar not to recognize.

"E-Eros?"

"Yes, it’s me," he responds in his usual cold, distant tone, seemingly speaking to the tree.

He’s the last person I expect to be here—if anyone should be at all. The last time I saw him was with Elodie, begging for a key to the king’s special library.

Nothing else usually forces our paths to cross unless it’s out of necessity. I didn’t even know he was part of the journey, too focused on avoiding death—and Azrael.

"W-What are y-you doing h-here?"

He hesitates for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"I don’t know either."

A silent pause stretches between us—cold and awkward—before he finally shatters it.

"Could you come down for a moment?"

I hesitate, not wanting to. I have no idea how long I’ve been up here, but the plan was always to remain in this safe place for as long as I need to.

Still, I get the subtle feeling that I either come down to him or he’ll come up to meet me—and the last thing I want is someone else invading it.

"Wh-Wh-What do you wa-want?" I ask once my feet are back on the ground, looking up at this towering wall of a man with dull brown eyes.

"The banquet is over. It’s been for a while."

I frown in disbelief.

"That’s n-not po-possible. My f-family’s pa-parties always last t-through the night."

"Well... let’s just say tonight was an exception due to external factors. I came to get you," he announces flatly, as if expecting me to nod and follow.

But I don’t want to.

"I’ll c-come in la-later." It’s an excuse—one I hope he’ll accept so I can be left alone.

"Okay," he replies blandly.

I expect him to walk away like the emotionless wall he always is, but he remains standing there, watching me even when I turn to climb back up.

I frown uncomfortably. "W-Why ar-en’t you le-le-leaving?"

"Because you’re here."

"A-Are yo-you m-mocking me?" I blurt out suddenly, taking offense.

Perhaps this is another one of Azrael’s games. It wasn’t enough to watch me be humiliated—to feast on my misery. Now he’s sent his dog to drag me back by force.

Eros must have seen it too. He had to be there, somewhere, watching me reveal my uselessness.

He must be concealing some snarky, haughty remark beneath that cold exterior like everyone else.

I’d rather he just say it to my face and get it over with.

"No..." he breathes out quietly.

Stiff shoulders slump from obvious exhaustion before he settles down right in front of me at the base of the tree, resting his back against the thick bark.

"I’m just a tired, overworked man with little appreciation from his master," he drawls.

I’m speechless, staring at him for a few more seconds before it becomes awkward—me standing next to him in silence while he sits on the earthy floor.

Finally, I give in to the pressure and sit beside him, folding my knees to my chest quietly.

There’s no further attempt to convince me to go back inside—he just lets me do what I want to. It’s oddly comforting.

"Yo-you’re n-nothing like Az-zrael," I blurt out.

He scoffs, finally showing emotion. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"You don’t know that," his tone drops a little colder. "I’m a Lycan—the very thing your kind despises. I’m only here because he still has use for you. You shouldn’t let your guard down around me; I might be the one that swings the blade when he’s bored."

There’s no lie in his words.

Lycans and wolves don’t mix—mostly because we don’t try to. It’s been that way since the war: one serves the other regardless of rank.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t been around many Lycans to develop that stigma—or maybe it’s something else—but his threatening words don’t feel remotely terrifying.

"It doesn’t feel that way. For some reason, you feel warm, even though you’re cold."

"You’re as crazy as he is," he mutters under his breath.

"Who?"

"Never mind." He waves it off, falling into silence again, facing elsewhere—lost in thought, just as I am.

He’s really going to stay here... for as long as I am, isn’t he? Even if it’s all night. I wonder why.

Whether it’s because Azrael told him to or because there’s some logic behind it—I can’t figure it out. And being unable to see what he gains from this fills me with guilt.

"I-Is the banquet really o-over?"

"Yes."

"E-E-Everyone’s i-in?"

"You won’t run into them," he responds, reading my mind.

He can tell I’m terrified of going back in. And he doesn’t mock me for it.

There’s a distant coldness about him that I find reassuring because he won’t lie to me. Because he’s nothing like the rest of them.

"Ma-May-be I sh-should go to b-bed," I mumble under my breath, giving in.

He rises almost instantly, offering a hand that pulls me up the second I take it.

"I’ll escort you to your room."

"Th-th-thank yo-u."

True to his words, the mansion seems practically dead when we get back—almost as if an early curfew has been forced upon the usually nocturnal household members.

There’s no one in sight, everyone already in their rooms by 11 p.m. The hallways are dark and dimly lit as we walk through them silently.

I expect to be guided to my usual room—the tiny space built beneath the stairwell with just one small window—but surprisingly, we pass that floor and climb higher, to where the larger rooms are.

I almost ask if he knows where we’re going before stopping myself.

Now we’re on a floor I’ve never been to—the one where Father’s room is, where only the most important guests stay.

We walk to the room at the very end of the hall and stop at the door.

He gestures silently for me to go in, implying this is where I’m meant to sleep tonight. Surely, there’s a mix-up. There might be—but I’m too tired to argue right now.

"G-g-goodnight," I mumble.

He acknowledges the awkward farewell with a low grunt before walking away, leaving me behind.

I push the door open slowly, slipping inside before shutting it behind me. Relief floods through me the second I’m in—the second I’m alone again.

"There you are, little mouse."

But I’m not. I won’t ever be—not with him in existence. Not from the moment I ran into him in that dimly lit room and he almost killed me with an arrow.

"Azrael?" I freeze, staring at him standing by the window, half-naked, wrapped in a towel, dripping wet.

Clearly fresh from a shower, his bare, broad chest is left on full display—along with that deep-cut scar that now looks fully healed.

"Wh-what are you do-doing here?"

"What do you think? I hear it’s a custom for married mates to share a room," he jests, chuckling at my expense.

"Hell no," I curse under my breath, making for the door almost immediately.

I’ll be damned if I spend the night here. I’d rather sleep in the bushes for an entire week than share a bed with him.

Only—the moment I grab the door handle, the lock clicks on its own, the doorknob searing hot until I flinch away.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he whispers suddenly behind me, his hot breath teasing against my ear. "The night has only just begun."