Chapter 150: A Wound That Wouldn’t Heal
"I think I know," Ivan said grimly, his eyes darkening with realisation. "Lora is human. That allowed her body to pass through since she wasn’t fully converted...just corrupted. My guess is, they were testing to see if they could infiltrate this way without being burned by the barrier."
Professor Dante exhaled sharply, "That certainly doesn’t sound good, does it?"
Eve’s brows furrowed, "So... you’re saying they weren’t planning to take me this time?" she asked softly, with uncertainty flickering in her voice.
"No," Ivan replied calmly, but it was edged with quiet fury. "Otherwise, they would’ve never sent a mere human to capture a powerful Lumen princess. They already know the barrier protects any place you’re in. This was a test, nothing more. But it means we’ll have to be even more careful from now on."
Eve lowered her gaze, her voice almost a whisper. "But...we’re on our excursion, which means we’ll be in places without barriers. And if they’ve already figured out a way to send someone if they have to, then-"
Ivan cut her off gently. "We’ll figure it out, Eve. Don’t worry, alright?" His voice softened unexpectedly, surprising both professors.
Dante’s lips curved into his trademark grin. "Well, well...don’t you worry, Princess Evelyn," he said, amusement lacing his words. "We’ll come up with something to strengthen our security. But perhaps if our students learned to follow the rules and not go wandering into a lion’s den in search of another lost artifact, we’d all be tucked beneath our blankets by now, wouldn’t we?"
Eve pressed her lips together, half in guilt, half in exasperation. Seira sighed softly, with her expression turning gentler. "Why don’t you two retire for the night? The perimeter’s secure for now. We’ll discuss the next steps in the morning."
Eve looked at both the professors before nodding. "Alright. I wish you both a good night," she said quietly.
"Same to you two," Dante replied, his wide grin still disturbingly bright.
Ivan placed a reassuring hand on her back as he guided her out of the room. The touch was light, but grounding, and Eve didn’t protest. The corridor was hushed now, the chaos of earlier replaced by their quiet footsteps echoing in the stillness.
Neither of them spoke on the way back, yet the silence between them wasn’t empty...it thrummed with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what had happened hanging heavy in the air. Only when they reached their room did Ivan finally glance at her, making her way to the bathroom.
He heard the water running and guessed maybe she’d gone to freshen up to clear her head a little. He raised a hand and ran it through his hair when something caught his eye.
His wrist that had been pierced by Lora’s corrupted nails was yet to heal. Not only did they not heal, but the skin around the punctures had turned bluish, with tiny, dark, root-like patterns spreading outward.
His brows furrowed at the sight of the strange wound. ’Why isn’t it healing?’ he thought.
Just then, Evelyn stepped out of the bathroom, making Ivan snap his head towards her. She looked at him with mild surprise, holding a bowl of water and a folded hand towel in her hand.
He remained silent but subtly shifted his hand behind him, hiding the wound from her view so as to not worry her. "What’s this?" he asked casually.
"Did I startle you?" Eve asked, while she continued to observe him. She noticed he stood as calm as ever, but she could’ve sworn she’d seen him flinch...just barely. She would have missed such a minute detail in the past, but now she knew him well enough to notice it. Ivan was someone who was never startled unless he was deeply distracted...or hiding something.
His lips curved into a small smile. "Do I ever get startled?"
"No... which is exactly why I asked," she replied, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. He raised a brow, feigning complete innocence. When she didn’t notice anything else unusual, she sighed softly. "Sit on the bed. I need to clean your wound."
Ivan’s heart skipped a beat...loud enough that he silently thanked every god that Eve wasn’t a vampire, or she would’ve heard it for sure.
"It’s fine, Eve," he said quickly. "It’s already good."
"Good? I saw blood smeared on your hand and sleeve," she countered, stepping closer. "Let me at least clean it, okay?"
Ivan took a step back instantly, halting both of them in place. They stood there, staring at each other, unsure how to react.
Eve felt confused by his sudden shift in behaviour, yet she decided to push forward. However, when he stepped away from her, a pang of hurt crossed her heart at the thought that he might be rejecting her touch. Lowering her eyes, she murmured, "I’m sorry if...I’ve stepped out of line."
"What? No!" Ivan stepped forward immediately. "Eve, I didn’t-" He stopped as he searched for the right words that wouldn’t make things worse. "I only stepped back because I don’t want you to get your hands dirty. I’ll wash it myself, so don’t worry about it, okay?"
"It’s nothing like that. I want to do this, Ivan. It’ll... ease my nerves a little," Eve pressed on softly.
Ivan swallowed hard.
He knew if he refused again, she wouldn’t take it well, and he was running out of excuses, so he tried one last time. "Eve... I want you to relax and not worry about anything, okay? I’ll be back quickly to join you."
Without waiting for her reply, he turned to leave when her voice cut through the air.
"Stop right there!"
At first, Eve truly thought Ivan was rejecting her touch, but the more he denied her, the more suspicious it seemed. A nagging feeling crept up inside her...that he was trying to hide something. As he began to walk away, she caught a glimpse of something faintly blue on his wrist.
She rushed toward him, catching hold of his wrist and gasped. Her wide blue eyes examined the wound that refused to heal and now looked... infected.
She whispered, "What... what is this?"
Ivan pressed his lips together at the inevitable and released a quiet sigh. "It’s nothing, really... it’ll heal in some time."
"Nothing? It doesn’t look like a ’nothing’ at all!" Panic rose in her chest as she looked at him, worry etched deeply across her beautiful face. She continued to examine the wound, her fingertips brushing gently around its edges.
"How could this happen? It looks... infected," she murmured, before abruptly letting go of his hand to set the bowl and towel on the bedside table. She then grabbed his hand again and tugged at him firmly.
"Let me clean it so I can take a better look. And I don’t want to hear a single protest...unless, of course, you want me to stop talking to you for the rest of the trip." Her voice was firm, but there was a warning glint in her eyes as she met his gaze.
And Ivan could only relent. He had neither the plan nor the heart to risk being ignored by her for even a day, let alone the entire trip. After all, he’d already had a taste of what it was like when she was truly angered during the physical examination.
She waited a heartbeat longer, her grip still light around his wrist. When he offered no protest, she gave a gentle tug, and he finally relented, letting her guide him toward the bed.
Once he sat down, she moved to sit before him on the bed and then dipped the towel into the bowl of water. The quiet sound of dripping filled the room as she wrung the cloth. Then, with a soft breath, she began to carefully dab around the puncture marks.
As she carried on with her task with utmost focus, Ivan’s gaze never left her. The way her brows drew together, the faint tremor in her fingers as she cleaned the wound...it all struck something deep within him.
Eve, though fully aware of his eyes on her, forced herself to focus on the wound. But the more the darkened lines beneath his skin became visible, the heavier her heart felt. Her breath caught quietly, but swallowing the fear in her chest she continued.
Once the wound was cleared of any bloodstains, she saw the black, root-like lines pulsing beneath his skin before spreading a little farther. Panic rose in her voice as she exclaimed, "This...this doesn’t seem to be healing! It’s spreading!"
Panic swelled in her chest as her mind raced through every possible solution. "H-how do you feel? Are you dizzy? Maybe I should call Professor Seira...or Cece! No, I’ll call Edward, he’ll know what to-"
"Eve."
Before she could spiral any further, his hands came up to cup her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the anxious tears she hadn’t realised had gathered there.
"Relax, baby," he murmured. "Take a breath."
"I’m fine," he continued gently. "It’s just taking a little longer to heal, that’s all. Nothing to worry about." His thumb traced the edge of her jaw in a soothing rhythm. "If it doesn’t get better, I’ll have Edward look at it. I promise."
