“I r-really am full……”
The soft outer corners of Yeonwoo’s round eyes drooped. Kang Sihyeon narrowed his eyes, studying him. Those pitch-black irises weren’t looking away — as though insisting on the truth.
Full after just one bowl of porridge?
He didn’t know what kind of pointless lie this was supposed to be, but Kang Sihyeon didn’t believe it. A newborn baby ate more than that. No matter how he looked at it, the boy was clearly playing coy.
Trying to get attention this way, is that it?
Thinking back on it, he was starting to wonder if it had all been calculated from the beginning. First spouting off about having two wombs, saying he could receive seed just fine. Then squeezing his eyes shut like he was angling for a kiss. This was no ordinary little operator.
Even now — those eyes looking up with that docile expression looked exactly like someone who knew precisely how pretty they were.
His deepening suspicion caught on the faintly trembling lashes. The lashes that quivered along with those frightened eyes were pale as his hair. Yet in contrast, the irises were dark as a night sky studded with stars, and at the same time strangely bright. Dark eyes that were bright — a paradox, and yet that was exactly what they were.
The eyes that had set out to catch a lie had lost their purpose somewhere along the way and were now drifting across Yeonwoo’s face. The overall pale complexion left little empty space, each feature drawn in as though etched individually with care. The one place where pigment had stayed deepest, among all of them, was the lips.
The lips that let such forward things fall out without a second thought — and the mouth beyond, even redder than those lips, was so small it could barely fit a single spoon. Just as Kang Sihyeon’s thoughts wandered toward what on earth that mouth was supposed to receive — he caught himself with a jolt.
“Wh — what the hell.”
“Y-yes?”
Kang Sihyeon barely stopped himself from slapping his own cheek. He had clearly lost his mind. The one whose brain had been scrambled by accumulated pheromones was not Muksirok — it was himself.
No matter how coyly the boy carried on, having thoughts like that about a child the size of his foot had to be the product of madness. Compared to his wolf form it might have been a different story — but in human form the gap wasn’t that extreme. Regardless, that was how small Yeonwoo looked to Kang Sihyeon’s eyes.
“When I was growing up I could polish off a whole cow without breaking a sweat. So stop making excuses and eat.”
He whipped his gaze away first. For all his rough words, he was tucking his tail between his legs and running from a single rabbit — a pathetic sight.
“Interesting.”
“You — what the——”
Muksirok offered his brief critique. Precisely as though savoring an entertaining show, he even tipped a freshly opened wine with an unhurried, elegant gesture. At being openly mocked like that, Kang Sihyeon couldn’t manage a single rebuttal — like a man who’d swallowed his tongue.
Kang Sihyeon began focusing on his meal as though giving no room for negotiation. More accurately — he pretended to focus.
He was gritting his teeth and looking away from Yeonwoo, who was whimpering as if asking to be looked at. No matter how much that pale little thing fluttered at the edge of his vision, he had absolutely no intention of looking back.
The only one in the room who hadn’t grasped the situation was Yeonwoo. Yeonwoo blinked in bewilderment.
“I r-really mean it……”
Yeonwoo squirmed in his seat, completely at a loss. He tried to show his eyes to prove it, but Kang Sihyeon wouldn’t look at him at all. Having no idea that every bit of that man’s attention was fixed on him, Yeonwoo plunged into anxiety in an instant.
[Filthy little animals — the moment you get there they’ll probably all be jostling to have a go at you first.]
[Stop playing coy and just act as cheap as your bloodline. Why are you pretending not to understand! Make a face like you’re absolutely dying for it and whimper for them!]
[If you don’t want to be sent back, get their seed first. Make sure they can’t say otherwise later. Understood?!]
Of all the words that had rained down like a bombardment, the only one Yeonwoo had understood was the last. His hands trembled.
To avoid being returned, he should have received seed first — and yet when he came back to his senses, all he’d done was eat through their provisions. Did they not like him? Of course they wouldn’t want to give their seed to a stuttering idiot.
No — at this rate I’m going to be sent back.
He needed to say he’d spread his legs right now if they wanted — but his sealed lips wouldn’t part. His mind went blank. He’d only ever been told to be as cheap as possible if they asked — he had no idea what to do in a situation like this.
Thinking had never been his job — it had always been his hyung’s. All he had to do was follow his hyung’s instructions, but his hyung wasn’t here, so there was no one to ask. Yeonwoo looked at the food Kang Sihyeon had served him, sitting in front of him.
If they were going to send him back, why feed him food this precious? There had been times when food was snatched away because he couldn’t hide the nausea rising in him — but he’d never had food pressed on him with a have more. On top of that, the two men had him eating at the same table, with the same food, in the same seat as them. It was something that simply shouldn’t be possible.
He hadn’t shown his worth yet.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Yeonwoo suddenly recalled a scene.
[Master, allow me to cool it for you.]
It was the image of a beastman who had always attended his hyung’s meals. The beastman who knelt beside him would pour water, pass side dishes, and assist in his hyung’s dining. On days when his hyung was in a particularly good mood, he would sometimes toss that beastman whatever he’d been eating.
Oh!
As though something had clicked, Yeonwoo’s expression brightened in an instant.
Without delay, Yeonwoo hiked one leg up onto the chair. Then the other, kneeling on it. He even straightened his back, tracing the posture of the beastman from his memory.
Yeonwoo fixed a serious expression on his face and bent his gaze intently down at the plate. After a long, deliberate look — as though making a selection — his eyes settled on the largest-looking piece of meat.
Gripping the fork Kang Sihyeon had given him, Yeonwoo stabbed the chosen piece. Even having picked the biggest one, it was hopelessly small compared to the pieces Kang Sihyeon had been popping in whole.
Yeonwoo hesitated, then moved the fork again. The small white hand pressing down on the meat put more force into it this time. The meat kept slipping away, and only after several failed attempts did Yeonwoo manage to skewer another piece onto it.
Still small — but better than before. The moment Yeonwoo turned his upper body, tense with nerves — he met a gaze head-on. Kang Sihyeon, who he’d assumed was eating, had been watching him the whole time.
“M-master. H-here……”
A flustered Yeonwoo thrust the fork forward and spoke. He had completely forgotten that Kang Sihyeon had reacted badly to the word master earlier. For better or worse, Kang Sihyeon had no room to pick up on it either.
“Wh — what am I supposed to do with that.”
Kang Sihyeon stumbled over his words at the sight of the meat skewer approaching his mouth. His reaction was like having a blade pressed to his throat. And indeed, Kang Sihyeon felt like he’d been ambushed.
He’d been watching Yeonwoo despite his ironclad resolve not to look back. He’d had no choice — the rabbit that had been struggling away had suddenly started breathing in quick, shallow gasps. It had settled quickly enough, but he hadn’t been able to look away after that either. Because Yeonwoo had begun fidgeting and slowly, surreptitiously kneeling up on the chair.
He’d been about to say something, thinking it was another bid for attention — but the intent gaze scrutinizing the plate made him swallow the words.
The posture was odd, but he’d left it alone, deciding the boy was playing some private little hunting game of his own. Never imagining that those small hands, after hunting so diligently, would end up pointing their catch straight at his mouth.
So — the reason Kang Sihyeon’s brow locked up was purely from being caught off guard.
“P-please, try——”
But it looked different to Yeonwoo’s eyes. At the clear refusal, Yeonwoo’s momentum visibly faltered. As his trailing words softened and blurred, the arm that had been stretched straight out slowly began to bend. The single piece of meat dangling precariously from the tip of the fork wobbled as if it was about to fall — and then it did.
Tap. Tap.
A short, dry sound. Muksirok was tapping the surface of the table slowly with his index finger.
Following the sound, Yeonwoo turned his gaze — and every hair on his body stood on end.
Muksirok’s face, expressionless and without a trace of warmth, was cold enough to send a chill straight down the spine. He was only watching in silence — and yet Yeonwoo felt, inexplicably, as though he were being scolded. The fingertip tapping at steady intervals had the same effect. He wasn’t threatening or pressing — and yet an unmistakable weight pressed in regardless.
Plop — the meat that had been dangling from the tip of the fork fell.
Yeonwoo couldn’t look away. Because Muksirok hadn’t withdrawn his gaze. It felt as though even glancing elsewhere required permission from the man.
After a moment, the line of Muksirok’s mouth eased — just barely, and just slightly.
“You don’t have to force yourself to eat. Whatever it is — force yourself to take in more than you can handle, and you’ll only end up with indigestion.”
The tone carried an odd sense of displacement, too layered to be taken as simple concern. Feeling it, Yeonwoo hesitated and set the fork down on the plate — and at the same moment, Muksirok, who had been watching in silence, rose from his seat in one smooth motion.
