Chapter 16
Seoha took a bottle of water from the fridge and looked back at Ethan.
“What are you talking about out of nowhere?”
“Answer me first.”
Ugh, he’s always so stubborn about weird things.
Sighing inwardly, Seoha twisted open the cap.
“I’ve been here before.”
Maybe because the room was hot, her mouth felt dry and her throat parched.
“With who?”
“It’s your turn to answer now, isn’t it?”
Just as she was about to take a sip, Ethan walked over and snatched the bottle from her.
“What are you doing?”
“Answer me. Who were you here with?”
Seriously—he talks like he owns me or something.
Seoha frowned and glared at him. She wanted to smack him out of sheer irritation, but the man before her wasn’t just anyone—he was a beastkin and a head of a noble house.
One wrong move, and it could escalate into a conflict between families. She forced herself to calm down and held back her annoyance.
“I came here once when the beastkin in Korea gathered for a meeting. I came with the head of the family and his people. Satisfied?”
Despite her best efforts to stay calm, a trace of irritation crept into her voice.
“I see.”
Oddly pleased, Ethan smiled and handed back the bottle.
He’s seriously a weirdo. To Seoha, Ethan seemed stranger than even Mikhail, who was often called the craziest of them all.
Birds of a feather, indeed.
“Is there anything you want to eat?”
“Anything’s fine, as long as it doesn’t have seafood.”
“I hate seafood too.”
Ethan scanned the menu and picked up the room phone.
While he ordered, Seoha took a drink of water and looked around the suite.
It was spacious and luxurious—what you’d expect from a room that cost several million won a night. The night view from the window was stunning.
But for some reason, her eyes kept being drawn not to the city lights, but to Ethan’s reflection in the pristine window glass.
Messy hair, tall frame, perfectly balanced physique.
Beastkin were usually attractive, but Ethan was in a league of his own. His pheromones were overwhelming.
‘No way he’s a secondary beastkin.’
As she watched him, Ethan suddenly turned to her. Startled, Seoha accidentally bit her tongue.
“Ugh.”
She had bitten it hard enough to make her flinch. The sting and the metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth.
“Are you hurt?”
Ethan, having caught her soft groan with uncanny precision, approached her.
Seoha wanted to say she was fine, but her tongue hurt too much to speak properly.
She waved her hand instead, but Ethan caught it.
“You bit your tongue?”
When she nodded, he gently held her chin and leaned in close.
“Let me see.”
Startled by the sudden closeness, Seoha tried to back away, but he had a grip on her hand, so she only managed one step.
Then he stepped forward again, closing the distance. Her back hit the cold glass.
“Stick your tongue out.”
His hot breath brushed against her lips. Under his persistent gaze, her lips trembled.
“Come on.”
“…I did.”
She tried to answer clearly, but the pain made her slur.
Ethan chuckled, his eyes curling in amusement.
“Cute.”
“…Let go.”
She felt like a fool. Irritated, Seoha pushed against his chest, but Ethan didn’t budge.
“It might be injured. Let me see.”
“This isn’t enough to cause an injury.”
Determined not to be treated like an idiot again, Seoha answered as clearly as she could.
A hint of disappointment flickered in his gray eyes.
She didn’t know what he was so disappointed about, but standing this close was definitely uncomfortable.
“Move.”
This time, she pushed harder, and he let her go without resistance.
“If it hurts later, tell me. I’ll check it for you anytime.”
“I doubt you checking it will make a difference.”
“Still, I could blow on it.”
The image of Ethan blowing gently on her tongue flashed through her mind, and Seoha shook her head. Horrifying.
“Actually, I’ve been wondering.”
“What is it?”
“You said you’re the head of the Miller family, right?”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Did Noah tell you?”
“Kind of.”
Well, she had overheard it more than anything.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“Didn’t seem like it would change anything.”
Seoha let out a hollow laugh—he was throwing her own words right back at her.
“Of course it would’ve changed things. At the very least, I wouldn’t have treated you so casually.”
“You can treat me however you like.”
Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist, his voice low and amused.
“In fact, the rougher you treat me, the more excited I get.”
Excited, huh? Seoha was about to snap back when the sound of the door unlocking stopped her.
[Unbelievable.]
Noah had entered. Seoha jumped away from Ethan the moment she saw him.
[How could you just hand me over to that snake and walk away?]
Fortunately, Noah hadn’t seen how close they’d been. He focused his annoyance on Ethan.
Ethan, meanwhile, looked at him like he was a bothersome fly.
[I didn’t hand you over.]
[But you didn’t save me either!]
While the two bickered, room service arrived.
“Enjoy your meal.”
The sharply dressed server set the table perfectly, then bowed politely to Ethan and left.
[What’s this?]
Noah picked up a wine bottle from the holder.
[Wine? Don’t tell me, Ethan, did you order this?]
[Nope.]
[Then who did?]
Frowning, Noah inspected the bottle, then took out his phone.
[Yes, Elder. No. I mean, right now—]
He glanced at Seoha mid-sentence. It seemed like he didn’t want her hearing the conversation.
“Take your call. I’ll step outside.”
Seoha tried to leave, but Noah waved her down.
“No, no. I’ll go. You stay and eat first.”
After Noah left, only Seoha and Ethan remained in the room, and an awkward silence settled between them.
She glanced at Ethan from the corner of her eye. He was looking at the wine label.
“Something weird?”
“Not exactly. Mikhail sent a note.”
“Mikhail? What did it say?”
“He sent the wine and said, ‘Have a good night.’”
A good night? Seoha wrinkled her nose. Birds of a feather, indeed.
“But why ‘Mikhail’?”
“Hm?”
“You let me call you ‘you’ and ‘hey,’ but you call him Mikhail—adding honorifics too.”
So that’s what was bothering him.
“You said I could treat you however I want.”
“Still, call me by name. Drop the ‘honorifics.’”
“I don’t want to.”
Calling him “Ethan” would feel too close, and she didn’t want to cross that line.
Actually, she felt like she shouldn’t cross it.
“I’m hungry.”
Seoha sat at the island counter, pointedly ignoring his gaze.
She started with the soup. It was seasoned perfectly with black pepper and suited her taste.
“Tastes good.”
“Glad it’s to your liking.”
Ethan reached for the wine opener.
Is he really going to drink? Seoha, frowning, watched as he started uncorking the bottle.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re sick!”
She snatched the bottle away.
“No alcohol until you’re completely healed.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“Yes. So don’t drink.”
“Oho.”
A smooth smile spread across Ethan’s lips.
“You saying that makes me want to drink even more.”
“Are you a contrarian?”
“Contrarian? What’s that?”
Given how quick he was with proverbs, she figured he’d understand that one too—but he didn’t.
She was reminded again that Ethan was, technically, a foreigner.
“A contrarian is someone who does the opposite of what they’re told. Like you just did.”
“I’m not one.”
“Yes, you are. I said don’t drink because I’m worried, and you said you wanted to even more.”
“That’s purely because of you.”
Because of me?
She stared at him, confused. His gray eyes sparkled mischievously.
“I like that you worry about me.”
“What?”
“That’s why I want to drink. So you’ll keep worrying—so I can stay sick and you’ll care about me.”
This was such nonsense she didn’t even feel like replying.
“Let’s just eat.”
She ignored him and went back to her soup.
Ethan set the wine opener down and took a sip of water—then said something equally ridiculous.
“Feed me.”
Did he just drink wine instead of water? Seoha raised a brow.
“Why should I?”
“Because you’re worried about me.”
He traced the rim of his glass with one finger.
“What if moving my arm aggravates my injury? It’d be serious. So feed me.”
“Pretty sure you hurt your side, not your arm.”
“My shoulder’s injured too.”
He undid a few buttons of his crisp shirt and showed her the bandages around his right shoulder.
“…Fine.”
She couldn’t bring herself to tell an injured person to do it themselves.
“What do you want first? Salad? Soup?”
“Soup. But are you going to feed me from there?”
“Why?”
“It’s too far.”
He patted the seat next to him.
“Come over here.”
Ugh, do I really have to? Reluctantly, Seoha moved. He was right—the distance made it awkward.
“Better now?”
“Yeah.”
His satisfied smile was almost childlike.
“Feed me the soup first.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She felt like a babysitter as she scooped the soup and fed it to him.
“You want steak too?”
“Yeah.”
She cut the steak into bite-sized pieces and held one out to him on a fork.
“Here.”
He usually accepted food immediately, but this time he just stared.
“What?”
“…”
His eyes drifted downward. She followed his gaze—and saw steak sauce on her hand.
When did that happen? She reached for a napkin, but Ethan grabbed her wrist.
Then, slowly, he leaned in and licked the sauce off, tracing his tongue from bottom to top.
