[Chapter 26]
A transparent bubble rose between my nostrils. It sounded like water had filled my ears—everything echoed and wavered. When I barely managed to open my eyes, I saw hands moving behind the rattling iron bars underwater. They must’ve grabbed me.
Mmph. Mmph.
Struggling against the heavy current, I tried to shake them off when a powerful vibration trembled above my head. Soon, a hand much larger and stronger than the prisoners’ snapped the wrist of the one gripping me.
Ah. It’s Deon.
As I lifted my head, a man broke through the water, pushing past the current between the shadows. His black hair floated freely, drifting with the water. His normally handsome brow was furrowed, likely because he was trying to reach me.
Reach your hand out.
That’s what his mouth was saying.
As I was sinking through the iron bars, I reached out toward his small face. Would a male siren who seduced people look like this? It felt surreal. The man who hated me most in this world was always the one to save me before I died.
Maybe it was the water.
In this terrifying silence where sound couldn’t travel, I felt a sudden compassion for him. Maybe the reason I possessed Lemoni was to free him from his hatred.
Then, if we escape together… could I die for him?
Not that I’d need to try. Deon would probably take care of that himself.
Thank you.
Regardless, I was grateful that he dove in to save me. When I mouthed those words, he raised an eyebrow as if to ask what I meant.
The moment our hands touched—bubbles fizzed up between us, and just as Deon’s arm sliced through the water again, something strong clutched my ankle and yanked me down.
Damn it. Lemoni. Lemoni!
It moved like a snake, impossibly fast. As I stared at the retreating Deon, I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again—
“Lemoni, breathe!”
At the sound of a soft baritone ringing in my ears, my upper body shot up like a spring. Haa. Haa. Air surged into my lungs and rushed out again through my mouth.
This wasn’t underwater. But that didn’t mean Deon had pulled me out either.
“You’re awake?”
I felt like a lost child. Confused, I looked around. The man who had gently spoken to me was sitting at the corner of the bed, leaning forward to catch my gaze. Silver hair framed his handsome face as he smiled brightly.
“It’s time for our date, isn’t it?”
It was Ian.
“…Ian?”
My brain short-circuited.
“Yeah, Lemoni.”
His lazy smile pointed at me. What kind of expression are you supposed to have when the man you thought was dead suddenly flirts with you like nothing happened?
“…So you’re alive?”
You’re supposed to be happy when someone’s alive. But since I couldn’t grasp the situation, the words slipped out a bit rudely. Ian just chuckled lowly, as if amused.
“Does that disappoint you?”
“No. I’m relieved.”
God.
I quickly shook my head.
“Really, I am. Where have you been all this time? And where exactly are we…?”
Only then did I realize—we weren’t underwater, and we weren’t in Block C either. I paused mid-sentence and took in my surroundings. The room had a damp air, and the walls were made of iron, almost like a bomb shelter.
Behind Ian, displayed ominously, were handcuffs, maces, iron rods, and other horrific torture devices used for punishing prisoners.
This was a torture room.
A place used to ‘reform’ those who attempted to escape through the river.
“Why are we here?”
The torture chambers were connected to the basement of Block B. Could Ian have come here from Block C? Did he predict I’d head toward the river? Really? Dread filled me as my face went pale.
He didn’t answer—just smiled.
My anxiety worsened, and I glared at him with all the strength I could muster. Then I felt something soft brush the back of my hand. It was Ian’s hand.
“I saved you from the river.”
“…Technically, you dragged me down by the ankle. What was that?”
“Hm.”
Ian paused, his long, straight thumb gently stroking the back of my hand as if to calm me.
“I wanted to see you.”
His belated reply froze my expression. Apparently pleased with my look, Ian rested his chin in his hand and muttered,
“Anyway, you look good.”
“…”
“So in the end, you’re looking at me.”
A chill started at the base of my spine and spread through my body. Memories with Ian flashed through my mind, and I desperately tried to figure out what part of me had triggered this man. I knew he’d been curious about my blood, but I thought it was just because of his half-vampire nature—not this level of obsession.
But there were many suspicious things about Ian.
We first met when he was disguised as Dey. Yet, in the original story, Ian never wore a guard’s uniform. Someone must’ve deviated from the plot because of me, but this man’s behavior had already changed before he met me.
Ah, that applied to Yvon too.
I want to live. I want to live. But thinking with a racing heart made it hard to judge clearly.
“…Are you going to kill me?”
In the end, all I could do was talk to him. My hand clenched the blanket in fear as I asked the question quietly.
“We’ll see.”
There was no emotion in the twist of his lips. Ian wasn’t gauging me—he was weighing his own emotions while looking at me.
“…So if I do something wrong, you’ll kill me?”
I should’ve asked what he wanted instead. Biting my lower lip, I regretted it. Every word felt dangerous. Unlike Deon, who always seemed ready to kill me, Ian could either be a murderer or a nobleman, depending on how I acted.
“But I doubt it. You’re so my type.”
Thankfully, he didn’t seem bothered by my words.
“From your face to your veins—there’s not a part I don’t like.”
His thumb, which had been toying with my hand, began to move slowly. A heated sensation followed every stroke, as if marking where he touched. His hand traveled from the back of my hand to my palm and stopped at my wrist—right where all the veins converged.
“Are you scared? No need to be.”
Ian’s eyes crinkled as he felt my pulse.
“What would I do to my lovely Lemoni? I just want to…”
But suddenly, he let out a dark chuckle.
“Ah, but did someone else beat me to it?”
“…What?”
“That uniform you’re wearing. It belongs to that bastard, doesn’t it?”
His hawk-like eyes were fixed on my clothes. I hastily covered the ID number tag and, in doing so, realized—I didn’t even know why I felt the need to hide it. But I was sure of one thing. Nothing good would come from him seeing the tag labeled 1001.
“I didn’t have a choice…”
“Are you making excuses now?”
Grinning wickedly, Ian stood up from the bed.
“Then that means you feel something for me too, right? You think we’re close enough to explain yourself.”
“That’s not it…”
“Then, will you give me a chance too?”
As he leaned closer, his golden eyes filled my vision—so dazzling and sweet I nodded without even realizing it. Snapping out of it, I furrowed my brows to resist those hypnotic eyes.
“…What kind of chance?”
I tried to sound detached, but my voice cracked. Noticing my nervousness, his thumb stroked the back of my hand again.
“A chance to prove I’m better than that bastard.”
Hmm. I never even liked that bastard in the first place.
But if I wanted to survive, it was better to go along with Ian’s wishes. I barely nodded. His expression, which had been intently watching me, lit up.
“Then, since we’re on the same page… can you let go of my hand?”
“Why?”
At that, his grip on my wrist subtly tightened. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“…I’m sweating.”
We were now so close, we could whisper and still hear each other clearly. Anyone listening would’ve assumed we were lovers. Maybe he thought so too—he let out a soft laugh and pulled away slightly.
I was about to thank him when—
“If you’re giving me a chance, then we need to get you out of that filthy uniform first, don’t you think?”
Before I realized it, he was right in front of me again—and darkness overtook my vision. Lifting my arms by force, he stripped off the prison uniform Deon had given me.
