"It's not your fault."
Then whose fault was it?
More importantly, how could Arın have said something like that? Maybe he had been affected by Veyra's emotions. How else could she explain it?
Without responding to Arın's words, İlyara went to the bathroom, fetched a cloth, and quietly began wiping away the black blood beside the bed. Arın, without saying anything either, tried to cover the broken window with pieces of cloth.
By evening, İlyara had gone out to the backyard to gather a few vegetables. Just then, something shot past the side of her cheek and embedded itself in a tree a short distance away.
Startled, she spun around and found Arın standing behind her.
"Dinner should have some protein," he said as he walked toward the tree.
"Where did that come from?"
İlyara couldn't hide the surprise in her voice as she straightened up, clutching the vegetables in her arms.
When Arın reached the tree, he pulled his dagger free from the rabbit with a single motion and held the rabbit up by its ears for İlyara to see.
"Veyra used to say protein was very important."
Why did he keep bringing up Veyra?
"You're too scrawny."
İlyara stared at him with her mouth hanging open.
"Me?" she asked, pointing at herself.
Holding the rabbit in one hand and the bloodstained dagger in the other, Arın stopped directly in front of her.
İlyara wanted to take a step back, but her pride wouldn't allow it.
"Yes," he said, tilting his head slightly as he looked her up and down.
Turning her head away, İlyara tried to avoid that careful scrutiny.
"Just look at yourself," he said, shifting the rabbit to the hand holding the dagger.
"When we first met, I could squeeze your cheeks."
As he spoke, he reached out as if to pinch her cheek.
Frowning, İlyara ignored the gesture.
"You pinched my cheek?" İlyara asked, looking at Arın. "When?"
"The night you had that nightmare."
As he said it, Arın's body tensed slightly before he turned his back on her and started walking toward the house.
What was that supposed to mean?
What had she seen that night?
Shaking her head, İlyara tried to push those thoughts out of her mind.
"It doesn't matter, İlyara," she muttered to herself.
Then she followed Arın inside.
As İlyara picked up the knife and stepped closer to skin the rabbit, her eyes met the rabbit's lifeless gaze. As those eyes seemed to draw her in, the world around her darkened, and the ground suddenly slipped out from beneath her feet.
She was no longer in the kitchen.
Purple violets stretched in every direction.
She had been here before.
Then the heavy scent of blood began to fill her nose.
"This isn't real," she murmured.
The moment she felt a hand on her shoulder, she screamed and thrashed.
"İlyara, come back."
At the sound of Arın's voice, she whipped her head around.
Arın gently took the knife from her hand while pulling her against him with his other arm.
"Calm down. I'm here," he said, slowly stroking her back. "It's alright."
Crying in Arın's arms, İlyara began to sink toward the floor. Arın crouched down with her and pulled her a little closer.
"Why?"
At the weak sound of her voice, Arın began stroking her hair.
"Give it to me."
"Why won't they leave me alone?" she asked, lightly hitting his chest. "Why?"
Arın cupped her face in his hands and lifted her head.
"Who won't leave you alone?" he asked.
His brows were drawn together as though he were searching for the answer in her eyes.
"Ha... hahaha."
Unable to hold back any longer at the sight of Arın's strange concern, İlyara burst out laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked, giving her a light shake.
But İlyara kept laughing.
When Arın received no answer, he pulled her back into his arms and rested her head against his chest.
İlyara was beginning to calm down. Sniffling, she took a deep breath, but just as she was about to speak, she froze at the movement she felt beneath Arın's chest.
"I'm fine—"
She never finished the sentence.
Leaning in a little closer so she could hear better, she pressed herself against him.
Thump.
Was that what she thought it was?
Thump.
Then another.
Thump. Thump. Thump...
A heart that should have been dead was beating in a steady rhythm.
İlyara lifted her hand and ran it over his uniform as though trying to feel that heart beneath it. Then she drew in a deep breath.
It was comforting.
As her breathing gradually steadied, she felt the rhythm of the heart slow as well.
Before long, her eyelids grew heavy.
She blinked a few times, but eventually her eyes drifted shut completely.
Arın (The Uniformed Man)
Arın looked down at İlyara, asleep against him, and remained still for a long moment as he watched her.
These strange changes in his body were continuing. Beneath İlyara, his dead heart fluttered like a butterfly trapped inside his chest.
Was it because of this fated mate situation, or was it a consequence of the bond agreement? He couldn't tell.
As his thoughts drifted, he realized he had been absentmindedly stroking İlyara's silky black hair. He paused and lifted his hand, staring at it.
What was this hand doing?
There was no logical explanation for why he was stroking her hair, yet he couldn't deny that it worked. Every time he touched İlyara, he could see her tense body relax a little more, her breathing steady, and that troubled expression slowly fade from her face.
These emotions must have harmed her far more than he had realized.
His gaze drifted to the bond mark on his hand. Running a finger over it, he found it deeply strange that the mark still existed on this decayed body.
Was he still a Morhena, or was he a Yadkan now?
He almost laughed at the thought before frowning. He didn't know the answer to that question, but there was one thing he was certain of.
His body was changing.
When his gaze returned to the sleeping İlyara in his arms, he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyelashes were long and slightly curled. Her skin was nearly as pale as his own, and that didn't look good. She must have shut herself away in this unpleasant cabin.
He needed to get her out of here, but he had no idea where he could take her. Going to Veyra was not a good idea. On the other hand, they couldn't stay here either. The children had probably already told their families what had happened.
Should he carry her away from here on his back?
That was a bad idea.
İlyara wouldn't like it.
The moment İlyara shifted in his arms, he was pulled from his thoughts. Carefully lifting her, he rose to his feet. She didn't wake during any of it. Resting against his shoulder, she looked peaceful in her sleep.
When he reached the wooden bed in the middle of the room, he held İlyara with one arm while pulling back the blanket with the other. Then he gently laid her down and covered her.
Just as he was about to leave, İlyara grabbed hold of his collar.
"What is it, İlyara?"
Looking at her, Arın realized her eyes were closed. She hadn't woken up. She was still asleep.
Trying not to disturb her, he carefully loosened her fingers from his collar. Her skin was soft.
Silky...
Unable to make sense of that thought, he finally freed his collar from her grasp.
Was he really the one thinking such things?
At that moment, he noticed a shadow outside the window.
Leaving İlyara behind, he walked toward it. As he drew his dagger from inside his jacket, he slowly pushed the door open with his other hand.
No one was there.
Stepping outside, he stopped beneath the window where he thought he had seen the shadow.
An uneasy feeling settled over him. He was certain someone had been there. He had seen the shadow.
For several minutes, he circled the cabin searching for whoever it was, but found no one. He couldn't stray too far. İlyara was asleep inside, completely defenseless.
After giving the area one last look, he returned indoors. He then skinned the rabbit on the counter and placed the meat inside the cold cabinet. The device ran on an enchanted stone placed within it, allowing food to remain fresh for long periods of time. He hadn't expected to find a stone like this here.
Reaching into the cabinet, he removed the stone. It glowed a deep shade of blue in his palm.
Who owned this house, and why were they helping İlyara?
He stood there for a moment, his fingers tightening around the stone before he finally returned it to its place and straightened.
They were leaving tomorrow. No matter what.
He spent some time sitting by the window, watching the darkness outside. Silence had completely filled the cabin when a voice suddenly came from the bed.
"No."
Turning his head, he looked at İlyara.
"I'm sorry."
She was talking in her sleep.
"I never wanted it to be like this."
Arın rose from the chair and walked over to the bed. İlyara's brows were drawn together, and wisps of black smoke were beginning to gather around her.
"I can't give it away."
Just as Arın reached out, İlyara murmured once more.
"It's mine."