Chapter 82

After leaving Lucian’s office, the bows and greetings from those I passed felt a touch less awkward. I still wasn’t sure how to respond to their deference, but at least I had reined in the panic it used to cause. When I arrived at my office, a familiar, tall figure with jet-black hair stood waiting by the door.

"Mr. Kroos!" I called out, my voice bright with excitement, before rushing forward to throw my arms around his neck.

"M-Miss Kessler... P-please..." Icarus stammered, his awkward smile betraying his discomfort as he glanced nervously around the corridor.

"Sorry... I overreacted," I admitted with a grin, quickly stepping back and unlocking my office door.

I walked in first, heading straight to my desk to set down my purse. “I’m just really glad you’re—” I turned to look at him, only to find Icarus kneeling on the floor. “…alive,” I mumbled, finishing my sentence.

"I need to apologize," he said, bowing so low his head nearly touched the floor. "I should have protected you. I should have sensed the danger, but I couldn’t even detect the wolves. I—"

"Stop it, Mr. Kroos," I interrupted firmly. "You were alone, and no matter how strong you are, you’re not invincible. Besides, the wolf who led me there had no scent."

"Still, I should have uncovered the threat sooner..." he muttered, his voice heavy with guilt, his head now fully against the floor.

"Stand up," I commanded.

He hesitated but obeyed, his apologetic eyes meeting mine.

"You did everything you could—and more. You survived. You warned Gareth and the Lord Protector. I couldn’t ask for more," I said with a soft smile.

"But—"

"No buts." I crossed my arms over my chest, making it clear I wouldn’t hear another word of self-reproach.

Though he tried to argue further, my unwavering tone finally silenced him. A faint smile appeared on his face, and to ease the tension, I insisted he join me for coffee. I made it sound like an order, leaving him no room to decline. It took nearly an hour, but at last, he seemed to believe me: I didn’t blame him, and I was overjoyed to see him alive.

"I’ll bring you new boxes of documents," he declared suddenly, a beaming grin lighting up his face.

"Thank you," I replied with a chuckle, watching as he hurried out of the office.

He returned shortly, carrying three boxes filled with files, and I dove back into my work. The moment I started sorting through contracts, my restless thoughts faded. The anxiety over my position in the vampire hierarchy and the unnerving development of regenerative abilities was temporarily forgotten. Work offered a strange sense of stability. In less than three hours, I had completed another report and carefully returned the files to their respective boxes.

"I’ll take these to storage and bring back more," Icarus said, stacking all three boxes and carrying them out with ease.

True to his word, he returned in under a minute with four large boxes balanced precariously in his arms. He placed them on the table by the sofa, stacking them one atop the other.

For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, I felt compelled to move them. Without hesitation, I lifted all four boxes and relocated them to the floor by my desk—effortlessly.

Icarus stared at me, stunned. “How did you do that? Those weigh around a hundred pounds!”

“They… do?” I replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at the boxes.

I had trained for more than twenty years, so lifting a hundred pounds wasn’t unheard of for me. But doing it so easily? That was new—and unsettling.

“You must be crazy strong for a human, Miss Kessler,” he said with an admiring grin as his gaze swept over me.

“I’m not... strong... and I’m not Miss Kessler,” I stammered, edging closer to panic.

"Oh, my apologies. Madame Kessler, then?" he offered innocently.

“No…” I sighed, weary of the misunderstanding. “Just call me Drayton. Or Thalassa. Being marked doesn’t mean I’ve changed my last name, right?” I forced an awkward smile.

“As you wish, Ms. Drayton,” he replied, bowing slightly. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “But you really are strong. Are you sure you’re not a mix-breed?”

That broke the tension—I burst into laughter, the sound bubbling out uncontrollably. “I’m pretty sure the child of two werewolf Alphas can’t have any vampire lineage.”

“Seriously?” His surprise was evident. “And you’re human, not a wolf?”

“I was born without the wolf gene,” I admitted, bitterness creeping into my voice. “Cassius Marwood’s greatest disappointment.”

His expression grew serious as he studied me more intently than before, his gaze almost searching for something.

The scrutiny made my skin prickle, and for a fleeting moment, an absurd thought crossed my mind: was he looking for signs that I was turning into some kind of monster?

"You seem completely human," Icarus remarked, his sweet grin softening the intensity of his gaze as it returned to my face.

A quiet chuckle escaped my lips. For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, his comment brought a sense of relief. The idea of him discovering something peculiar about me had left me rattled, even if I tried to hide it. I wanted to confide in someone, desperately, but I needed Caspian. I’d even let him take an outrageous amount of my blood for testing if it meant he could assure me there was nothing wrong. The trouble was, I didn’t even have his phone number—I was completely reliant on Hadrian for any connection to him.

"Um... this might sound strange, but... have you ever drunk vampire blood?" The question stumbled out awkwardly, almost unbidden.

Icarus widened his eyes, clearly puzzled.

"Forget it," I said quickly, forcing a laugh. "That was a weird thing to ask."

I didn’t even know why I’d asked him that. Maybe it was the desperate part of me that wanted reassurance—some affirmation that I was still... normal.

Being strong or healing quickly didn’t seem like bad things on the surface, but the mystery of it gnawed at me. What was happening to me? Still, I had to smother my unease with a practiced smile and force my thoughts back to work. Numbers and legal jargon became my sanctuary, pulling my restless mind into focus. I devoured the contents of the remaining contracts, reviewing them faster than ever before, and by the end of the day, my work was complete. With a click of the mouse, I sent the final report to Lucian.

"That’s it," I murmured to myself. "My work here is done."

The thought was strange, even a little disorienting. My contract with Hadrian had only required me to audit the last ten years of agreements—nothing more. With that finished, my time at Monteforte Investment Bank was over. Technically, the CFO and CEO still needed to approve my work, but there was no reason for me to return to headquarters. I left my office, feeling oddly unmoored.

"Goodbye, Mr. Kroos," I said warmly, smiling at him as I made my way toward the elevator. "I’m already starting to miss your company."

"I can always visit you at the Kessler mansion, Ms. Drayton," he teased, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

"Right," I chuckled. "I keep forgetting you’re one of Gareth’s men."

"Of course," he added with mock solemnity, "I’d have to get permission first, and even then, I doubt I’d be allowed near Ms. Drayton’s part of the castle."

"Why’s that?" I asked, frowning.

"You didn’t know?" He arched a brow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. "The Lord Protector forbade any men from going near your chambers."

"You mean… recently?" A nervous laugh escaped me.

"No. Since the day you moved in." He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The realization hit me like a cold wave. Thinking back to my time at the castle, I could barely recall seeing any male staff. Gareth had always been an exception, and the one time I’d noticed another male bodyguard had been under special circumstances, right after the attack.

Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Had Hadrian claimed me as his from the very beginning? I’d believed he let me stay because I’d proven myself useful. But what if he’d never planned to let me leave in the first place?

I returned to the castle, my mind a swirling storm of confusion and anxiety. I craved peace, but the only person who could offer it wasn’t there. I needed Hadrian—needed to lose myself in his calming embrace, to feel the fire of his kisses ignite my skin. Instead, I found my chambers empty and the Lord Protector still away.

Later that evening, I sat alone in my room, picking at a late dinner. The steak on my plate was cooked to perfection—medium-rare, just as I liked it—but I couldn’t enjoy it. A hollow ache settled inside me, gnawing away at any sense of contentment. I had no work left, no tasks to occupy my mind, and the castle walls felt like the bars of a gilded cage.

Hadrian’s possessiveness had never bothered me before. But now, with no assignment to focus on, I was already unraveling, restless with the prospect of having nothing to do.

I cut another bite of steak, chewing mechanically, its taste lost on me. The silence of my chamber pressed down, heavy and suffocating. My instincts prickled, a strange awareness warning me that something significant was looming. Whatever it was, I felt unprepared.

In a futile attempt to distract myself, I turned my attention back to my plate, though I could hardly stomach another bite. My gaze drifted to the knife in my hand, and before I knew it, I’d raised it to my lips, running my tongue lightly along its edge.

The metallic taste snapped me out of my haze just as I slipped and sliced my finger. A sharp sting and the sight of blood pooling from the cut jolted me fully awake.

"Thalassa, you’re losing it," I muttered, shaking my head as I searched for a tissue to wrap around the wound.

But just before I covered it, something stopped me. I watched, transfixed, as the cut sealed itself in a matter of seconds. The blood vanished, the skin flawless once more.

A breathless laugh bubbled up, tinged with hysteria. Whatever this healing ability was, it wasn’t temporary. It was something deeper, something I couldn’t ignore anymore.