CHAPTER 70: HE USED TO CALL ME A VIXEN

Kael’s POV

Eventually, Alice stepped in and took Eira away—though not before confronting Sophia for blowing the incident out of proportion. No one scolded either of them. The truth remained unknown, and with time, the matter was quietly buried. We all assumed it was just a misunderstanding.

But now, even after six years—despite claiming her memories were still hazy—Sophia recalled it with perfect clarity.

"We should’ve known back then what kind of person she was," I heard Sophia say softly as she traced the faint scar on her arm. "Instead of defending her, I should’ve told you the truth—that she tried to harm me. If I had, her true nature would’ve come out sooner... before she could do worse."

I said nothing.

She turned to me, her eyes sincere. "I’m sorry I didn’t warn you earlier. I was just being considerate of Alice’s feelings."

I gave a short hum, unwilling to say more.

"I’ll send you more books," I said, standing. "You can pass the time reading."

She didn’t seem pleased that I was leaving, but she masked her disappointment with a smile.

"Thank you. Come see me again soon."

I nodded once, then left.

I headed straight to Liam’s office. The old man was poring over reports when I entered. Without looking up, he gestured toward the seat across from him. "Have a seat."

I sat in silence as he put the papers aside and finally met my gaze. "You’re here to ask about Sophia’s treatment," he said knowingly.

I shook my head. "I want to know about her

. What you talked to her about today."

He immediately understood who I meant. "As you know, we need to do everything we can to bring her wolf out of hiding."

"How long?" I asked again, my tone firmer.

"That depends entirely on how you treat her," Liam replied. "She’s not beyond redemption. She just needs time... and a little thoughtful behavior from you and your mate brothers."

"We’ll follow your instructions," I assured him. Then I added, voice lowering with subtle warning, "I want Sophia recovered. At any cost."

Liam gave a short, knowing chuckle. "You really do love her, despite your cold exterior."

I didn’t correct him. There was no need to explain what my true intentions were—not yet.

It was becoming clear that we had overlooked far too much in the past. And now was the time to dig it all up—and it will start with Sophia. But to do that, she needed to be fully healed. I wasn’t giving her the excuse of her dying condition as a shield anymore.

"I’ve already given the orders for special medication to be prepared for Eira," Liam said as he leaned back in his chair, eyes sharp as they studied me. "Once we begin the treatment, she’ll enter heat. I wonder if you are willing to take care of her heat phase, Alpha?"

My brows drew together slightly at his words. "We brought her to fuck. That won’t be an issue."

He shook his head slowly, disappointment written across his features. "All I’m saying is this—when that time comes, even in her heat, don’t treat her like some mindless animal. Show her some damn care. Some kindness. Don’t break her again."

My gaze hardened. "You don’t need to tell me what I should do with what’s mine."

He raised a brow. "Yours?"

"I’ve paid more than enough to buy her," I replied flatly.

"Well," he sighed, "I can’t exactly argue with that."

"In the evening, Jason and I are heading to meet the council members. I want you there."

He nodded without hesitation. "I’ll do whatever is needed to protect... what’s yours, Alpha."

"You better," I said as I stood to leave.

He was a doctor—and his word carried weight. His support would justify why we hadn’t brought Eira before the council yet. It would buy us more time until Eira is healed entirely.

----

Eira’s POV

I was already overwhelmed when I saw Fluffy, but when I heard they have a cat as well, I couldn’t help but be curious.

I wasn’t sure why, but I’d always had a special attachment to animals. I loved being around them, loved the idea of having them as pets. But my grandparents never allowed it.

But Fluffy wasn’t the only one I had. I had a kitten as well, but no one knew about her. She was my secret pet.

I still have the memories fresh from that day when I found her.

It was a quiet afternoon, and I was walking home from school. Just before reaching my house, I heard a faint meow coming from the woods near the path.

My home had always been a little isolated from the rest of the pack. A cozy, cottage-style house surrounded by a modest garden and a ring of trees. My grandparents liked their silence, their space.

That day, I couldn’t hold back my curiosity and went towards the trees to follow that sound, my steps slow and light as if to not scare the animal.

"Miao," I called softly.

To my surprise, a tiny meow echoed back.

Step by step, I traced the sound, and soon I found her—curled into herself in a bed of dried leaves and twigs under a tree.

So small. So fragile.

I picked her up gently. Her frail little body trembled in my arms, so I held her closer to my chest, trying to warm her with what little I had.

"Shh... little kitty, you’re safe now," I whispered, coaxing her softly.

I searched for her mother, but there was no trace. Maybe she’d been abandoned for being too weak. Or maybe something had happened to the mother. Either way, I couldn’t leave her there—not with a wound on her paw and the cold already settling in.

But I couldn’t take her into the house either.

So I made a space for her near the large boulder behind the cottage. It was covered with heavy stones and had crevices wide enough for her to nestle inside, safe and hidden.

Every day, I snuck out and brought her food—milk, soft bits of bread, warm scraps of cloth to build a bedding. I gave her everything I could without being found out.

Slowly, she started to get better. She began walking around. Playing a little. Curling up when I arrived. Not being able to come up with any name, I kept calling her kitty.

But we were together for barely a month or two.

Then... the incident happened, and I lost everything from my past.

Despite my own pain, and being the one who desperately needed someone to come for my rescue, once in a while I would wonder how kitty must be, and if there was someone to take care of her in my absence. I could only pray for her to be safe and grow healthy as I knew I was never going to see her ever again.

Now I saw this cat—Vixen—it reminded me of her.

She looked just like her. Same cream-colored coat. Same bright blue eyes. Same flat little face. Just grown up in size now. But more than anything... the same tiny scar on her paw.

I remembered that scar. I had treated that wound myself the day I found her.

And my heart told me it was her, but then, who would argue with that overly possessive and psychotic vampire?

As long as I could have her around, that was enough.

Vixen?

What kind of a name was that?

Wait—

It wasn’t the first time I heard him say it. I recalled now.

He used to call me that too—Vixen.