Alexander could barely contain his outrage. How could she? After everything he had done—risking his life to save her from the seed, enduring her accusations of mass murder, and navigating the treacherous dealings with the executives to free her from Azul—this was how she repaid him? Yes, he had his own reasons for getting involved, but that didn’t erase the sacrifices he’d made.

He had even come to see her, against his better judgment, tried to steady her when she was on the verge of collapse. And now? Now she had the audacity to scream bloody murder at him while fawning over Liam like some obedient, starry-eyed puppy. The thought that Nyla might not even know of his efforts never crossed his mind; his bruised ego wouldn’t allow it.

Slumping back into his couch, Alexander’s glare bore into the pair standing before him. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, a storm of indignation simmering beneath the surface. As Liam leaned closer to Nyla, laughing at something she said, Alexander’s scowl deepened. If they thought this was over, they were sorely mistaken. A plan began to form in his mind—a plan to make Liam regret ever stepping into the picture.

Liam gently helped Nyla back onto the bed, his movements steady but careful. He pressed the intercom and called for a nurse, then rummaged through a drawer beside the bed, pulling out a clean towel. Folding it quickly, he pressed it firmly against the wound on her arm. It wasn’t deep, thankfully, but the sight of her blood stirred something protective in him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alexander’s unwavering stare. The man hadn’t left the room, though his body radiated a strange intensity. Alexander’s gaze flicked between them, sharp and scrutinizing, like he was dissecting a puzzle only he could see.

Nyla winced as Liam adjusted the towel, increasing the pressure to stem the bleeding. Guilt flashed across his face, and he gave her an apologetic look.

“Our roles seem to have reversed…” Nyla said softly, her lips curving into a faint smile. The memory of Gale—the chaos he had caused in the store before—played faintly in her mind.

“Seems so,” Liam replied, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m nowhere near as good as you when it comes to cleaning up the mess.” He added a playful wink, his tone light despite the seriousness of the moment.

For a brief moment, the tension in the room eased, softened by their shared memory. Nyla winced at the pain in her limbs. In her panic, Nyla had completely ignored the tubes snaking around her arms and legs, as well as the sharp protests of her body. Now, the pain from her sudden burst of activity came flooding back, wave after relentless wave. Her muscles throbbed, her chest felt tight, and her head buzzed with dizziness. She cast a nervous glance at the black-haired intruder, flinching when she realized he was staring at her—his eyes burning with anger she couldn’t place. She quickly looked away, her heart pounding.

“Don’t worry, he’s not going to hurt you,” Liam whispered softly, his voice calm as he inspected her arm. The gentleness in his tone soothed her for a fleeting moment, and she managed a faint smile. At first, seeing someone familiar had been a lifeline, a reassurance of her safety. But now, her nerves were returning with a vengeance.

This man was Gale—there was no mistaking it. The new employee at the Supercenter, the one who had fumbled through his first day with a shy smile and thick glasses. Yet here he was, looking completely different. His hair was a disheveled mess, and the glasses were gone, revealing sharp features she hadn’t noticed before. She hated to admit it, but he looked better like this—confident, almost commanding. But why was he here? And how did he seem to know the angry intruder?

Her mind spun as she tried to piece it together. The man standing against the wall, his posture stiff and his glare icy, radiated an aura of menace. Who was he? Why was he watching them so closely? The questions churned in her head until they made her dizzy.

“What is…” she began, her voice trembling. Before she could finish, the door she had fought so desperately to open earlier swung inward, cutting her off.

Two nurses rushed in, their eyes widening at the chaotic scene before them. One quickly turned and dashed out, calling for a doctor, while the other approached with hurried steps, gently nudging Liam aside to take over. As he stepped back, Nyla’s panic surged. Her hand shot out, gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline.

“Gale… don’t leave me,” she pleaded, tears brimming in her eyes. She felt a pang of humiliation—she was clinging to him like a scared child. But he was the only familiar face in what felt like an eternity.

Liam placed his hand over hers, his touch firm yet comforting. “Don’t worry, Nyla,” he said gently. “I’m not going anywhere. The doctor just needs to check your condition. After that, we’ll sit down and have a proper conversation. I promise I’ll explain everything.”

He smiled at her, though there was a hint of hesitation behind it, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Nyla’s confusion only deepened. This was not the Gale she remembered—the clumsy, endearing man who had knocked over shelves in the Supercenter. This person was calm, composed, and exuded a quiet authority.

As the nurse guided her to lie back on the bed, Nyla’s thoughts spiraled. Her heart raced, and a single question echoed in her mind, louder than the rest: What the hell is happening?

**********************

Liam walked over to the couch where Alexander sat, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. The weight of guilt tugged at Liam as he approached. He knew he owed Nyla an explanation about his undercover role at the Supercenter, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon—or under such chaotic circumstances. And, of course, Alexander had made everything worse. A softer approach? Clearly out of the question for him.

“Why the hell did you scare her like that?” Liam hissed, keeping his voice low. He could still feel Nyla’s wary eyes on him, tracking his every move, and the last thing he wanted was to unsettle her further.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I didn’t do anything!” Alexander snapped, his voice rising loud enough to echo off the walls.

Nyla flinched at the outburst, and Liam’s stomach sank at the sight. Alexander, however, didn’t miss it either. His jaw tightened, and a fresh wave of anger lit his expression—not at Liam this time, but seemingly at himself.

Liam tilted his head, studying him. Something was off. Alexander enjoyed intimidation; it was practically his second language. Yet, this time, he didn’t look smug. He looked... frustrated, almost bothered by Nyla’s reaction.

It was peculiar, to say the least. Liam opened his mouth, a question forming on his lips, but before he could utter a word, the door burst open with a loud bang, cutting through the tension like a blade.

“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PEOPLE IN HERE?!”

The furious voice sliced through the room like a whip. A middle-aged woman in scrubs stormed in, her bun disheveled and her scarred face etched with equal parts exhaustion and fury. Dr. Auset Anwar had barely scrubbed out of surgery when June, one of her most trusted nurses, pulled her aside. June had hurriedly explained the chaos unfolding in the patient’s room, and Auset—already on edge—felt her anger bubbling over. She had explicitly declared the room off-limits until she could assess the girl’s condition.

The moment Auset entered, her sharp eyes scanned the scene: Nyla, pale and fragile on the bed; Liam, holding his hands up like a scolded child; and Alexander, whose dark glare only fueled her rage. The sight of him made her blood boil.

Auset couldn’t stop the torrent of memories that flooded her mind as she took another step inside. She had lost almost everything to the demons—her family, her village, and most of her friends. Her brother, the last remaining piece of her family, had turned into a Seed before her very eyes, slaughtering their entire village in a storm of blood and chaos. Somehow, she had survived. But the knights of Lux had deemed her survival suspicious and nearly executed her before the Anti-Demon Association intervened.

Years later, she had climbed the ranks of the 2nd Division, earning her reputation as its formidable lead doctor. But tragedy followed her like a shadow. She had lost friends, allies, and her heart along the way—her beloved Jamal’s father, torn apart in a mission Alexander had been the sole survivor of. It was Alexander who returned with the shattered remains of her life. She had hated him since.

And now, of all places, these two—her most despised figures—were arguing in front of her newest patient. Her temples throbbed as her anger escalated, her vein pulsing so visibly that her son, Jamal, instinctively stepped between her and Liam. Years of training with her had taught him to recognize the signs of her impending explosion.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!” Auset’s voice rose, sharp and commanding. “ALL OF YOU—GET OUT!”

Her rage silenced the room. Liam and Jamal exchanged glances, both knowing better than to argue. They moved toward the door without a word, though Liam hesitated when his eyes met Nyla’s. She was staring at him, her fear evident, pleading silently for him to stay.

But one look at Auset’s simmering fury convinced him otherwise. He mouthed a quick “It’ll be okay” to Nyla before stepping out, leaving her alone with the formidable doctor. Nyla’s chest tightened. The woman standing before her seemed every bit as terrifying as the intruder she had fled from moments ago.

Liam leaned against the wall outside the room, his arms folded, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Jamal stood beside him briefly, his presence a small comfort. Liam glanced at him with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about tonight,” he muttered.

Jamal smiled back, his expression understanding. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. But Liam could see the disappointment in his eyes.

This was supposed to be their first free evening together in what felt like an eternity, and now it was over before it had even begun. Liam watched as Jamal walked toward the corner and disappeared from view, a pang of longing tugging at his chest. He wished things could be simpler.

It was no wonder Dr. Auset Anwar despised him. He had pushed Jamal into the 2nd Division against her wishes, knowing full well the danger it entailed. Jamal was too skilled to waste behind a desk, even if it meant standing up to his formidable mother. But that decision—and their relationship—had only deepened the rift between him and Dr. Anwar. Her disapproval simmered constantly, flaring into outright hostility since their romance became public.

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. He could only hope that, with him and Alexander out of the room, the doctor’s fiery demeanor would soften enough to make Nyla feel safe. He owed her that much.

Inside the room, however, Alexander was not so quick to concede.

He stood his ground, his broad shoulders stiff, staring down at Dr. Anwar with a defiance that bordered on insolence. He didn’t particularly want to stay—his emotions were too raw, a confusing mix of anger, embarrassment, and something else he couldn’t quite name. But leaving just because he was ordered to? That wasn’t in his nature.

Dr. Anwar met his glare head-on, utterly unimpressed. She was one of the few people in the division who had never cowered before him, and Alexander respected that, even if she drove him insane.

“Well?” she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. “Are you planning to stand there all night like a creep, or are you trying to convince everyone you’re a pervert?”

Alexander blinked, startled. “What are you talking about?” he snapped.

Dr. Anwar gestured toward the nurse holding a clean robe for Nyla, who had shrunk into the bed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“You’re standing there while she’s about to change,” Dr. Anwar said with a sneer. “You’ve made enough of a scene already—why not add that to your list of accomplishments?”

Heat rushed to Alexander’s face, and for a moment, he stood frozen in horror as the realization dawned. He turned on his heel abruptly, muttering curses under his breath as he stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

The loud bang startled Liam, who pushed off the wall and eyed Alexander warily.

“What happened ?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alexander stormed past Liam, his scowl deepening, his ears a bright shade of red—betraying the embarrassment he was trying to mask.

“Nothing!” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. This night had turned into a parade of embarrassments, one after another.

Liam raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his outburst. “What are you doing here, anyway? Where’s your lover?”

Alexander’s gaze shifted, noticing the absence of Jamal. The two were inseparable, usually, like a pair of shadows trailing each other.

Liam didn’t hesitate. “I need to talk to you…” His tone was unusually serious.

“About what?” Alexander’s annoyance grew. The last thing he wanted right now was another conversation about his personal life. He just wanted to retreat to his room and erase this entire night from existence.

Liam didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gestured somberly toward Nyla’s room, his head tilting in that direction. “What do you think?”

Alexander followed his gaze, his brow furrowing in contemplation. The weight of Liam’s tone, coupled with the grim direction of his eyes, made the gravity of the situation clear. Without another word, Alexander nodded sharply, signaling his readiness.

Liam turned on his heel, his mind racing as he led the way down the dimly lit hallway. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken thoughts and the impending truth. He had no idea how to break the news to Nyla. He had no idea how he was going to explain that her life, everything she thought she knew about it, was about to change—irreparably.