CHAPTER 179: CHAPTER-179

What the hell is this? Why is she being so... cute?

He cleared his throat and dipped the spoon back into the bowl. Then, without a word, began feeding her again. One spoonful after another. Each time, her mouth opened quietly, her eyes meeting his like she was trying to figure him out just as much.

Minutes passed.

The bowl grew lighter, and finally, Kaya leaned back, letting out the faintest exhale. Done.

Veer blinked down at the now-empty bowl. Somehow, he hadn’t even realized how focused he’d been.

After calming herself down, Kaya finally let her eyes wander.

Wait a minute... how the hell did he even get in here?

She glanced at the door—it was still there, perfectly closed, undisturbed. No cracks, no force marks. So clearly, he didn’t use the door.

Her gaze swept around the small hut until it stopped at the high-set window—an outlet she had built near the ceiling, just where the wall met the sloped roof. It was tiny, barely wide enough to let the smoke and warm air out. Certainly not human-sized.

And yet... just beneath it, a few brown feathers lay scattered on the ground.

Kaya’s eyes narrowed.

Her gaze slid back to Veer, whose wings—broad and snow-dusted—were still visible behind him. She noticed the faint wetness near the tips, the melting snow dripping quietly onto the floor.

Her brow twitched.

So this idiot flew all the way here. Through a blizzard. With a fevered girl on his mind. And then somehow—what? Squeezed that giant body of his through a mouse hole?

She stared at the feathers again, then at the snow, then at him.

...How the hell did you even fit?

Veer, blissfully unaware of her inner disbelief, was busy checking the second bowl’s temperature, acting like nothing was remotely strange about the entire situation.

Kaya rubbed her temples.

The man had apparently redefined both ’concerned’ and ’ridiculous’ in one day.

First, Kaya looked at him, her expression blank but her brows slightly furrowed. Then she raised her hand slowly and gestured — a silent but pointed "what the hell are you doing here?"

Veer immediately understood. Her throat still wasn’t well enough for speech. He followed her hand’s movement and gave a dramatic sigh, placing one hand on his chest.

"Oh, what am I doing here, you ask?" he began, voice playfully exaggerated.

"Well, I was sleeping soundly, dreaming about roasted rabbit and warm fire—when suddenly, I felt someone whispering my name through the cold. Like a call from fate." He squinted at her, lips quirking. "So naturally, I came to check on my baby girl. But who would’ve thought, huh? Just a few days without me and you miss me so much you fall sick?"

Kaya gave him a deadpan stare, her face as unreadable as stone. ’Seriously?’ her eyes seemed to say.

Veer smirked and crossed his arms. "What? You think I came to steal your food or something?"

She tilted her head slightly. ’Well... now that you mention it...’

His jaw dropped. "Are you serious right now?!"

Rolling his eyes with theatrical disbelief, he stood up and walked over to the side, removing the wooden plate covering the second bowl and pulling out a small wooden bottle from beside it.

Kaya’s eyes followed the bottle. She pointed between it, the food, and then at him — another silent question: ’You’re not going to eat?’

He glanced at her and gently tapped his finger against her forehead. "First, I need to make sure someone’s well enough to stay upright. Can’t have you so sick you forget how to speak."

Then, walking behind her, he ruffled her hair lightly.

Kaya immediately winced. Her body already ached all over, and now this?

She tried to move her head away from his hand, but Veer placed a firm palm on the crown of her head.

"Shut up," he murmured, voice softer now. "Just stay still for a while. You’ll feel better."

Then he opened the lid of the wooden bottle, and instantly, a sharp mustardy scent wafted through the room. Even with her blocked nose, Kaya caught the sting of it. She blinked at the bottle suspiciously, then looked at him again, pointing at it with visible skepticism. ’What is that?’ her gesture clearly asked.

Veer clicked his tongue. "Poor girl."

He poured a small amount of the oil onto her scalp and began rubbing gently, massaging her head with practiced fingers. The warmth of the oil, mixed with the rhythmic pressure, slowly started to melt into her aching skull. And even though it hurt at first, gradually, something about it — the scent, the warmth, or maybe just the quiet care — began to soothe her.

Slowly, under the warmth of his fingers and the strong scent of mustard oil, Kaya’s tense muscles began to ease. The pounding in her head dulled, and the fire’s soft crackles melted into the background. Her heavy eyelids dropped on their own, and for the first time in hours—maybe days—her body found a moment of peace.

But something tugged at her senses again.

A sharp, warm scent drifted into her nose—something rich, something familiar. Garlic. Fried garlic. Her nose twitched, and her eyes blinked open just a little.

The room looked hazy, golden from the fire’s glow. Veer was sitting near it again, his wings now gone, tucked away into his body like they were never there. If someone saw him now, they’d never guess he was anything but human.

But Kaya knew better.

He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was focused on something—a tiny ceramic bowl, smaller than the one he’d served earlier. It wasn’t on the stove. No, he had tucked it underneath, balanced between a bed of charcoal that glowed faint red. Oil crackled softly inside, and something sizzled in it. Maybe onions, maybe garlic, maybe herbs. Whatever it was, it smelled divine.

Kaya tried to tilt her head to peek, but even that tiny movement made a sharp pulse run through her temple. She winced.