Syaoran gently lifted Fang into his arms and carried her to his chambers. With a soft touch, he brushed her hair aside. A quiet surge of magic shimmered from his fingertips, cleansing the dirt from her skin and healing the wounds along her arms.
He stepped outside and called for Taio.
"Bring some meat and water. Now."
Taio nodded and left immediately.
When Syaoran returned and closed the door, he found her beginning to stir. She rubbed her eyes, blinking slowly. As her vision cleared, she saw someone standing nearby. Her gaze followed the figure upward… until it met his face.
Syaoran.
She froze.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but behind them—hurt. Deep and sharp.
Syaoran knelt beside her.
"Fang… How are you here? Weren't you supposed to be in college?"
She stared silently. Her expression didn't soften.
"I know you're angry," he continued, voice low. "I left without saying a word. I'm… sorry."
Fang's lips trembled. "You don't know what I went through after you vanished. I tried to be strong… I tried to move on. But the worst pain?" — her voice cracked — "was you not keeping your promise. You said you'd be there… on my birthday."
Her tears fell freely now.
Syaoran lowered his head in guilt.
"I wanted to be there," he whispered. "I was devastated too."
To hold herself together, she suddenly asked, "You're a werewolf, aren't you?"
Syaoran blinked. Shock washed over his face.
Before he could respond, Taio entered, overhearing the question. In a flash, he drew his sword and pointed it at Fang's neck.
She didn't flinch.
"Lower your sword!" Syaoran barked.
Taio hesitated—then stepped back.
Fang let out a sob, loud and raw.
Taio covered his ears. "Your Majesty," he muttered. "She's so dramatic. This is your mess."
Syaoran sighed, took the food and water from him, and set them beside her.
"Here. Eat."
She didn't move.
So Syaoran gently picked up a spoon and held it to her lips.
After a moment, she opened her mouth and took a bite. Slowly, quietly, she ate as he fed her.
Taio stood frozen. "She's… letting you feed her?"
Once she finished, she wiped her face and turned away in silence.
Syaoran stood. "Taio, stay with her. Don't let anyone in—not even Grandfather. If anyone asks, they come through me."
Taio nodded.
Syaoran left the room to retrieve something.
Fang sat on the bed, head lowered. Taio leaned against the wall, still watching her curiously.
"So… who are you really?" he asked. "How do you know His Majesty?"
She looked up. "I'm Fang. I'm from Earth. Syaoran and I looked after each other."
She paused, tilting her head.
"And who are you? Why're you asking so many questions? Who even calls him 'His Majesty'?"
Taio snorted. "I'm Taio. Advisor to the King. And yes—King. Syaoran isn't just a wolf. He's the ruler of the Lycan Clan."
Fang's jaw dropped. She burst out laughing.
"You're kidding. He's a king?"
"Yep," Taio said proudly. "Our King."
Just then, Syaoran returned, holding a folded dress.
"What's so funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Both of them fell silent.
He handed the dress to Fang. "Wear this. And…" — he touched her forehead gently, activating a spell — "you'll blend in as one of us."
She reached up and felt the soft wolf ears on her head. A grin slipped out—before she smacked Syaoran's leg playfully.
"Ow!" he winced.
Taio burst out laughing.
"Your Majesty, she's got you wrapped around her little finger."
Syaoran smirked. "She took care of me. She has the right."
Taio blinked. "Wait—seriously? You two are like… a perfect match. Even your tempers are identical."
Just as Syaoran opened his mouth to deny it, Fang re-entered the room, now dressed and composed.
"Don't get the wrong idea," she said coolly. "I just knew him a few years ago. He's a king now. I'm just… one of his people."
She sat back down.
A silence settled over the room.
Syaoran and Taio glanced at each other.
Then, in perfect sync, they sighed.