CHAPTER 33: EVELYN: HE CALLED ME HIS WIFE

Evelyn~

W-wife?

Why did he suddenly call me his wife? He hadn’t even marked me, let alone said any marriage vows.

No—honestly, there was a more important question than that: why did he want to marry me in the first place?

Most of the time, Alphas didn’t even bother with wedding ceremonies because his mark alone was enough to seal the bond. After all, we weren’t humans who needed a legal relationship to avoid gossip.

So ... why would he want something as official as marriage?

If it were Theron, I would understand. He needed to marry me first before putting the queen’s crown on my head. But Rael? He was an Alpha of a pack. He didn’t need a ceremony or a title.

"We ... we’re not married yet," I said softly.

Rael looked like I’d just stabbed him through the heart. His brows scrunched up so tightly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he aged five years right then and there.

"Then let’s get married right now!"

He gently took my hand in both of his, cradling it carefully like it might break. "I, Rael Covern, vow to be your husband and love you in sickness and in health ..."

—Wait, wait, what the hell was going on right now?!

Why was I suddenly getting married in the middle of being impaled by spikes?!

"It’s your turn now!" Rael urged me to say my wedding vows, like he was terrified I’d die any second, which, judging by his expression, he really believed so.

Although he had just gotten married, he had already braced himself for becoming a widower.

"Wait! You need a wedding ring!"

He spun around, grabbed a vine from a nearby bush, and quickly wrapped it around my ring finger.

It was bumpy and awkward, but he tied it like it was the most expensive wedding ring in the world.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "If I’d known we’d be getting married today, I would’ve brought a diamond ring for you."

Honestly, I was still in shock that this was even happening.

"We ... we don’t need to get married right now," I said, squeezing his hand gently, which made him freeze in surprise. "I’m going to be fine."

But instead of calming down, he got even more frantic.

"You don’t want to marry me because you think I’ll become a widower, right?" he asked. "Don’t worry about that! I’d gladly be a widower and stay loyal to my dead wife!"

I didn’t expect him to call me his dead wife so soon.

Oh, heaven.

He was already mourning me while I was still breathing right in front of him.

"No, it’s not that," I replied, raising my hand, which had just slipped off one of the sharp spikes. "I’m really going to be fine. Just look at my wounds, they could heal at any moment."

Rael leaned in closer to my wound, watching intently as it slowly began to close.

The blood stopped flowing almost immediately. If I wiped the blood off, he’d see that my skin had already turned smooth again.

"You ... you heal that fast?" Rael asked, clearly in disbelief. "But ... that’s just your hand, not your vital organs."

Still, even a normal werewolf wouldn’t be able to heal a hand injury like that if they were already near death.

In other words, Rael should’ve known I wasn’t dying.

But of course, this kind of healing wasn’t something he saw every day, so it made sense for him to be so shocked.

"If you pull me off these spikes, I’ll heal quickly," I reassured him. "I won’t die. Don’t worry."

Even so, deep down, I still wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t light the wooden stake again.

Not as part of a tradition this time, but to carry out a real witch trial.

After all, my immortality had always been linked to dark magic by both humans and supernatural beings alike.

But it’s not like I had another option.

If I tried to get out of these spikes by myself, it would take hours, and let’s not forget how much pain I’d be in every time I moved.

It would be better if Rael just pulled me out quickly. That way, at least I wouldn’t have to suffer for too long.

"I-I don’t understand," Rael stammered. "Those spikes went through your heart and lungs. You should be—"

"Can we not talk about that right now?" I cut him off. "It really hurts to stay in this position for too long."

Rael looked at me in a panic. "Alright. Alright. Let’s get you out of here first."

He reached out to pull me up, but right before his hands touched me, he froze.

"Are you sure you’ll be okay if I do this?" he asked, his voice trembling. "You’ve got so many wounds ... I’m scared that if I pull you out, you’ll bleed too much and ..."

He didn’t finish his sentence, but I knew what he wanted to say that I might die.

"Rael," I called his name firmly, locking eyes with him. "I’ll be fine. My blood will gush out the moment you pull me up, but trust me, my wounds will start healing right after."

I gave him a small, reassuring smile. "If you pull me out slowly or gently, it’ll only make the pain worse. That’s why I need you to do it fast, just one strong pull. I can take it."

Yes, the pain would be worse if he pulled me out too fast and rough, but at least it would only last for a moment.

Rael grabbed my arm, preparing to pull me up.

But every time he tried, he immediately stopped again. It happened a few times until I finally spoke up. "You just have to pull me quickly."

"I know! I know!" He pressed his hand to his forehead and turned away, clearly frustrated. "I’m scared, alright?!" he suddenly burst out.

Scared?

That was the last word I ever expected to hear from an Alpha like him.

He was the Alpha of a pack known for being savage, the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to attack royal soldiers or even harm the King of Valedorn himself.

So why was he afraid to pull me out of here? What exactly was he afraid of?

"Why?" I asked.

Rael groaned and rubbed his face roughly. "I just ..." he trailed off, struggling with his words. Then, finally, he said, "I’m just afraid of hurting you."

He wasn’t afraid to hurt others, but he was afraid of hurting me?

This was the second time someone had looked at my pain and didn’t find joy in it.