Alastor's POV:
I looked around the spacious bathroom once I shut the door behind me, exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Walking towards the marble tub, my fingers traced over the unfamiliar metal lever, and I hesitated for a moment before pulling it, just as Zachary had instructed.
A sudden cascade of water poured down from above, drumming against my skin in a relentless stream. The sensation startled me at first, and my muscles tensed in response. So this was what they called a shower? My hands reached out, feeling the slick tile walls as the warm water coursed over my shoulders and down my back. It was almost... pleasant.
Millennia ago, before the destruction of the original Earth, there had been countless such contraptions, or so I had heard. But when the wolves created their new world, separate from the supernatural galaxy, they had abandoned most technological advancements in favor of a more 'primal' existence. How foolish. Things would have been far simpler if they had embraced progress rather than clinging to old ways.
The sound of water hitting the stone floor echoed around me, blending with the distant rustling of wind beyond the fortress walls. My thoughts drifted, carried away by the rhythm of the falling droplets.
Flashes of fire, steel, blood. The clash of swords, the snap of bones, the cries of the fallen. For as long as I had been awake in my past life, war had been the only constant. First, it was my forefathers, then my father, and finally, my brother and I—locked in a battle that had ended with me entombed in darkness.
Pain flickered through my skull, sharp and unrelenting, as if a fragment of memory was trying to force its way to the surface. I grimaced, gripping the edges of the steel pipe.
There were gaps—large portions of my past missing, fragmented and hazy. Especially at the end. Why had I fallen asleep in the first place? Had I chosen this fate, or had it been forced upon me? And yet, despite the questions that gnawed at my mind, neither Zach nor Xavier had spoken of it. Perhaps they were waiting for us to be alone?
A weary sigh escaped my lips. Whatever the reason, at least there were still two creatures from my past who remained by my side. As peculiar as they were, I was... relieved to find them here.
My gaze flickered to the darkening sky beyond the window, signaling the arrival of nightfall. The thought sent my mind spiraling back to her—the nameless omega. My jaw clenched as warm water cascaded over my skin.
She had said I had marked her. But how had she come to that conclusion? I had merely drunk from her.
Her voice echoed in my mind: "Aren't…you going to…umm….eat me?"
The absurdity of the question had made me pause. But worse than that, the words had sent my thoughts down an entirely different, wickedly tempting path. And then, as if the gods themselves had sought to make a mockery of my self-control, she had gone on to tell me she was a sacrificial virgin.
By the time I had fully processed the conversation, reality had struck like a blade to the chest. My awakening was supposedly meant to bring ruin and war.
How preposterous.
Had they all truly believed such nonsense? That I—who had once fought for peace—was destined to plunge the world into chaos?
I clenched my fists. I would need to get the full truth from Zachary and Xavier. If they had been guarding this place for so long, they had to know more than they were letting on.
And then there was her. Mumei.
I needed to clear up this ridiculous marking misunderstanding.
Only... something twisted in my chest at the thought. The idea of telling her I hadn't truly marked her left an odd weight in my gut, though I couldn't decipher why.
Shoving the thought aside, I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered it over my skin, washing away centuries of slumber. Once I had scrubbed myself clean, I stepped out of the shower, droplets trailing down my chest and pooling at my feet.
A realization struck me—I had no fresh clothes.
With an exasperated huff, I reached for a towel, wrapping it loosely around my waist before moving to the sink. A small box sat atop the counter, its contents foreign yet strangely intuitive. I tore open the package and pulled out the toothbrush, mimicking what I used to do with a Miswak. The taste of the minty paste was unexpected, but not unpleasant.
Once finished, I wiped my face with the edge of the towel, then stepped out of the bathroom without a second thought. After all, the girl was blind. What did it matter if I walked out as I was? Even if I nude she wouldn't know.
She sat stiffly on the red velvet sofa, her posture rigid, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She was clearly waiting.
I walked towards her as my gaze trailed over the room—luxurious, yet compact compared to the grand chambers of old. The deep gold and crimson hues bathed everything in a warm glow, but my attention was drawn back to her.
She was painfully delicate, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like strands of woven silk. Her pale skin stood in stark contrast to the deep red blindfold that concealed her eyes. And those lips...
Before I could stop myself, the word slipped past my lips.
"Hesperia."
She froze.
My fingers brushed along her jaw, tilting her chin upward. Her lips parted slightly, breath catching as if she were startled by the sudden contact.
"Huh?"
"You said I could call you whatever I wanted, correct?" My voice dropped slightly, almost a whisper. "Then I hereby name you Hesperia."
"Oh…" She paused, licking her lips—damn—before asking hesitantly, "What does it mean?"
"Evening star."
I reached toward the red silk covering her eyes, my fingers grazing the edge. "Have you ever tried taking this off?"
She flinched, pulling away from my touch almost instantly. "No," she murmured, "I… I shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"I…" She swallowed. "I'm ugly."
A scoff escaped me before I could stop it. "Impossible."
Her fingers clenched around the hem of her dress. "My eyes are cursed. They told me… if I remove it, they'll throw me out of the pack." Her voice was barely a whisper, laced with something fragile.
I exhaled sharply. "Hesperia." My tone was firm, demanding her attention. "You've been sacrificed to me. You aren't Mumei anymore. You're not part of their pack. And you are not cursed—I can tell that much."
Her lips trembled slightly, but she said nothing.
My hand hovered near the blindfold once more, but she turned away, a slight tremor in her movements. "Please don't."
Something dark coiled in my chest. What had they done to her? What had they told her to make her so afraid of herself?
A knock on the door shattered the heavy silence. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to step back.
"Come in."
Zachary entered, carrying a white bag. "I found the medical kit." He then handed me a set of clothes—a loose shirt and trousers, soft against my fingers.
I dressed swiftly, then gestured toward Hesperia's feet. I had noticed the way she winced earlier, the scent of her blood lingering in the air. She must have stepped on the shattered glass from my coffin.
Zachary frowned at me. "Wouldn't you like to do it yourself?"