CHAPTER 232: CHAPTER-232

The world around her shimmered oddly, unfamiliar yet not terrifying. A narrow stone-paved road stretched through the middle of the dreamscape, vanishing into mist on either side. And there, crouching low in the middle of that road, was a man.

He was tall—easily over six feet, with a broad, muscular frame that looked almost carved from stone. His face was hidden, blurred by the haze of the dream, but Kaya could see the gentleness in his hands. He was tending to a small, injured rabbit, carefully applying some kind of medicine to its wounded paw.

It wasn’t just the act that startled her—it was the way he leaned close, speaking softly, as if the rabbit could understand him. Stranger still, the little creature twitched its ears, almost as though responding. When he finished, the man gave it a light pat on the head, and the rabbit hopped around him with newfound energy, radiating simple joy.

Kaya felt something stir inside her—a flicker of warmth, a smile she hadn’t expected. It was such a simple scene, yet it made her heart feel lighter.

Compelled, she stepped closer. Reaching out, she laid a hand gently on the man’s shoulder. "Who are you?" she asked.

But before she could see his face, his body began to dissolve into the dream’s mist. The rabbit vanished too. Then the entire world around her started to collapse—the stones crumbling, the mist swallowing everything whole.

A jolt ran through her, and in the next instant, her eyes flew open.

Kaya blinked at the strange ceiling above her before realization settled in. Oh... right. This is Veer’s house

. She exhaled slowly and pressed her fingers to her temple, rubbing lightly. What the hell was that dream...? The memory of the faceless man and the rabbit flickered in her mind, strange and unsettling.

Just then, a knock came at the door.

"Baby, are you awake?" Veer’s voice slipped through, annoyingly cheerful for this hour.

Kaya’s first instinct was to flop back down, pull the blanket over her head, and pretend to be asleep. But before she could even settle into the act, Veer spoke again, his tone more insistent.

"I know you’re not sleeping. Don’t even think about faking it. I just heard you moving around."

Kaya rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. Unbelievable. These beastmen... do they train themselves to be this nosy? She’d barely opened her eyes and this idiot already figured it out.

"Yeah," she muttered flatly, not even trying to hide her annoyance.

The moment the word left her mouth, the door swung open and Veer practically burst inside like an overexcited child.

Kaya glared at the door and groaned inwardly. She really hated this setup. Because of him, this wasn’t just a normal door. No, of course not. In front of it, they’d hung a thick hide, so at first she had thought it was just a curtain. But when she came to the room last night, she discovered the truth: there was a door behind it too. A door that couldn’t even lock—no latch inside, no mechanism outside. Just a door for the sake of appearances.

In one word, completely useless.

Veer slipped fully into the room, and Kaya instantly noticed his face. The color had returned somewhat, his pallor not nearly as ghostly as the morning before. But she could still see it—the lingering weakness, the slight drag in his steps, the faint hollowness around his eyes. He was sick, still healing, yet here he was, grinning like a fool as if nothing in the world was wrong.

"Baby," he said, tilting his head with that annoyingly bright smile, "you’re still in bed? It’s already noon."

Kaya’s eyes widened. Noon? She sat up straighter, glancing around the dim room. There was no window, no way to tell the time by sunlight. But the heat in the air... yes, she could almost believe it. The stone walls seemed warmer, the air heavy, clinging to her skin. Maybe it really was noon.

Before she could question it further, Veer stepped forward, carrying a small woven basket in his hand. He placed it on the stone table and pulled back the covering.

"Here," he said, his voice softening. "Eat something. Do you know how weak you look right now?"

Kaya stared at him, her mouth parting slightly in disbelief. Was he serious? He was the one who nearly died, and yet here he was fussing over her like she was the fragile one. She didn’t even bother to reply—her glare alone was enough to speak volumes.

Still, her eyes flickered down toward the basket. She hadn’t expected much, but the sight surprised her. Inside, arranged neatly, were wild vegetables and fruits—berries glistening like small rubies, leafy greens folded in on themselves, and strange fried shoots that looked almost like peanuts, though the leaves were far too large for her to be sure. Nestled between them was meat—fried strips, gleaming with a reddish sauce that shimmered under the light, their scent rich and spiced.

For a moment, Kaya forgot to be annoyed. The food looked... good. Surprisingly good.

Kaya lifted the food slowly, almost cautiously, and brought it close to her nose. The aroma hit her first—warm, smoky, and rich, carrying a faint trace of spice that made her mouth water before she even tasted it. She took a bite, and her eyes widened instantly.

"Oh god..." she murmured under her breath, savoring the burst of flavor on her tongue. It was delicious. Not the dull, polished kind of food she always associated with five-star hotels—those dishes looked pretty but tasted like air to her. No, this... this was different.

It was honest. Real.

The taste pulled her back to the streets she loved, to the tiny booths and roadside stalls where the vendors cooked with their soul instead of a recipe book. Every chew reminded her of those nights she’d sneaked out just to sit on a plastic stool and eat food that carried both smoke and heart.