CHAPTER 71: UNNATURAL SACRIFICE

Just moments earlier, without Alaric knowing, Siera had been standing face to face with a man in a black hoodie. His face was partially hidden beneath his cap, the shadows concealing much of his expression.

They stood close, staring into each other’s eyes like they were discussing something that no one else was supposed to hear.

"Just do what I said," Siera’s voice was sharp, commanding, but subdued. Not her usual tone. This time, there was no friendly smile, no gentle inflection. She was cold. Calculated.

The man gave a small nod, speaking just loud enough to be heard.

"Alright. I’ll take care of it."

With that, he turned and disappeared down the pale, tiled corridor leading to the restrooms.

Siera took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her hair, then looked at her reflection in the mirror. She quickly fixed the strands that had come undone, trying to erase any signs of the tension still lingering on her face. Once her usual smile had returned, she looked like any ordinary person who had just finished a quick bathroom break.

And right then, Alaric’s voice called out from behind.

"Siera?"

She turned around quickly, a little startled, though she hid it fast behind her polished expression. Alaric stood just a few steps away, a slight frown on his face.

"What took you so long?" he asked, his tone edged with subtle suspicion.

"Oh... nothing," Siera replied quickly, blinking slightly as if trying to find the right words. "I was just checking my hair. It got kind of messy earlier." She touched her hair lightly and smiled, keeping her tone light.

Alaric kept looking at her, his eyes quietly trying to read beneath the surface. There was something off—the way her gaze shifted too quickly, the way she spoke a little too fast. But eventually, he let it go.

"Alright then," he said.

Siera jumped in right away, her voice brighter, like she was steering the moment back to normal.

"Come on, let’s eat."

She walked ahead of him, leaving Alaric a few steps behind.

He let out a small breath, taking one last glance toward the back corridor where he’d seen her moments ago. There was no one there.

"Maybe she really was just fixing her hair," he told himself, though part of him still held onto that flicker of doubt.

Then he followed her inside the restaurant.

-

The atmosphere in the restaurant had been ordinary at first. The room carried a warm ambiance. The savory scent of freshly served food still lingered in the air, blending with the smell of cooked dishes and the faint aroma of coffee rising from the visitors’ cups.

Alaric and Siera sat across from each other. Their table was still cluttered with leftovers. Plates nearly empty, spoons left carelessly on the surface, and glasses with nothing but melting ice swirling at the bottom.

Their conversation during the meal had been casual, light-hearted at times, occasionally touching on matters related to Brightmind and the strong possibility of a future collaboration. To anyone watching, they looked just like colleagues grabbing a bite after handling some business. Nothing about them seemed out of the ordinary.

But all of that changed the moment Alaric rose from his seat.

He had just stood up, his hand reaching for the jacket draped over the back of his chair, when something flew in fast from the side. A flash of sharp metal flickered for only a split second, yet it was enough to make people’s instincts scream at the sight of danger.

Alaric barely had time to react. All he felt was a rush of wind slicing past his neck.

And at that very second... Siera jumped toward him.

Her body moved faster than Alaric’s eyes could follow. She lunged, shielding him from the object’s path. A sharp, brief sound followed as metal met flesh.

"Ahh—!" Siera let out a cry, then her body went limp in just a few seconds.

The knife didn’t fully pierce her, but the tip had grazed her arm. A long gash was clearly visible, blood pouring from it rapidly and dripping onto the restaurant’s white floor.

Her unbalanced body fell against Alaric’s shoulder.

"Siera!" Alaric choked out, his voice panicked.

The room, once filled with the clinking of cutlery and conversation, erupted into chaos. Guests screamed, chairs scraped noisily, and some people ran from the center of the commotion. Someone shouted, "He’s got a knife! Get him!"

And there he was the man who had thrown the weapon was already running toward the exit. Most of his face was hidden by a cap and a mask, making him hard to recognize. But his suspicious movements hadn’t gone unnoticed.

A security guard, who had been stationed near the door, was already on alert.

"Hey! Stop!" the guard yelled, then sprinted after him. The sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the building, mingling with the panic of fleeing patrons.

Alaric desperately wanted to chase after the man, to find out who had dared to target him so boldly in public. But his feet refused to move.

Siera’s body felt heavy in his arms, though she was actually quite slim. He looked down and saw her pale face, unconscious, her head resting against his chest. Her soft hair clung to his dark jacket, and blood continued to seep from the wound on her arm, soaking through his sleeve.

There was no choice to make. Chasing the attacker meant leaving Siera in a dangerous state.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration and emotion tightening in his throat.

Without wasting another second, Alaric picked Siera up and carried her in his arms. He held his breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "Hang in there, Siera," he whispered softly.

People around them watched with tense expressions, some clearly realizing they had just witnessed an attempted murder. A few restaurant staff members were visibly shaken, while others quickly stepped aside, making way for Alaric as he walked briskly toward the exit.

He moved with steady urgency, even though his thoughts were a storm of fear, anger, and a powerful need to protect Siera.

Once outside, he opened his car door in one swift motion, gently laid Siera down on the passenger seat, then rushed to the driver’s side. His hands trembled slightly as he started the engine, but he knew he had to get her to a hospital—fast.

The tires screeched against the pavement as the car sped off, leaving the chaos of the restaurant behind.

Siera lay weakly beside him, her injured arm hastily bandaged with Alaric’s handkerchief.

---

In the softly lit hospital room, the sound of the air conditioner hummed quietly, casting a cool breeze that mixed with the sterile scent of antiseptic.

Siera lay on the hospital bed, her face pale, breathing slow but steady. In the corner of the room, Alaric sat on a long sofa. His suit jacket was neatly folded over the armrest, and his tie had been loosened. An obvious sign of the tension he had carried since the incident.

A few minutes passed before Siera’s eyelids began to flutter. She let out a soft groan, her left hand rising weakly to her head. "Ugh... my head’s spinning," she muttered, her voice faint but clear enough to reach Alaric, who had been lost in thought.

He instantly snapped to attention and hurried to her bedside. "Siera? You’re awake?" he asked, leaning in close, concern etched across his face.

Siera slowly opened her eyes, her vision still blurry as she tried to focus. Eventually, her gaze landed on Alaric, now sitting just inches away. A faint smile formed on her lips, though she winced as pain surged through her arm. She instinctively reached for the bandages wrapped around her right arm. "Ah..." she gasped under her breath, the pain clearly not gone yet.

Alaric immediately leaned closer. "Your arm still hurts, doesn’t it? Wait, I’ll get the doctor."

Before he could leave, Siera’s left hand suddenly reached out and grabbed his fingers. Her grip was weak but purposeful. "Don’t," she said softly. "Stay here. Don’t go."

Alaric froze for a moment. His eyes dropped to their hands, now intertwined. A wave of awkwardness passed through him. Gently, he tried to free himself from her grasp. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, but also careful not to send the wrong message.

"I just want to make sure you get proper treatment. You were hurt trying to protect me, Siera. I feel responsible."

At those words, a faint shadow crossed Siera’s face. She lowered her gaze briefly before meeting his eyes again, her expression soft and sincere. "Why would you feel guilty?" she said quietly. "I’m the one who’s grateful I got to do it. Besides... if something had happened to you, I... I don’t know if I could forgive myself."

Her words were laced with quiet honesty. It wasn’t just the things she said, it was the look on her face. The way she seemed so fragile yet determined, silently asking for something more than sympathy.

Alaric took a deep breath. His gaze wavered slightly before he regained his composure.