CHAPTER 469: CHAPTER 469: YOU CAN STOP COMPLAINING. JUST GIVE ME FOOD

The quiet stretched too long. The cave had gone still except for the soft popping of the fire and the crunching sounds of Isabella eating.

She didn’t even glance at him—she sat cross-legged on the flat stone, her hair falling over one shoulder, casually chewing on dried meat like she hadn’t just survived a monster battle, a spiritual awakening, and a waterfall incident.

Across from her, the phoenix man stood completely still. Watching.

Too still.

His gaze was steady—too steady—and the longer he looked, the heavier it felt. The air between them practically hummed.

Even Glimora, perched on a smooth rock beside Isabella, stopped nibbling her tiny portion and turned her small, fluffy white head toward him.

If looks could talk, Glimora’s was saying, Sir, do you mind? You’re being creepy.

But he didn’t look away.

Isabella chewed. Swallowed. Pretended not to notice.

Another bite.

Still staring.

She took another.

Still. Staring.

Finally, she dropped the piece of meat with a loud sigh. "What is it?"

The man blinked, startled out of whatever trance he was in. "Can I have some?"

She tilted her head slowly, eyes narrowing. "Some?"

He nodded once, straight-faced. "I’m also hungry."

"No," she said instantly. "Go hunt yourself. You were just eager to hunt a moment ago."

That hit. His confident expression wavered. His lips twitched, his eyes fell a little, and for a second—just a second—he actually looked... sad.

The sight made Isabella pause mid-chew.

Wait. Why did he look sad?

Her brain started rationalizing, Oh, maybe he really can’t hunt anymore... maybe losing his phoenix form means he can’t do much of anything now.

She frowned, looking down at her food, guilt prickling faintly in her chest. Ugh, don’t tell me I’m feeling bad for him. Not this man. Not the arrogant walking flame that literally called me a witch.

But before she could say anything kind, the man straightened again. The sadness vanished like smoke. His eyes gleamed—sharp, confident, too smug for someone who’d just been pitied.

"I am your responsibility now," he declared calmly. "You saved me. You will care for me. And I am hungry. I want to eat."

Her jaw dropped.

"What," she said flatly, "did you just say?"

He folded his arms. "You saved me. That makes you responsible for me."

Her expression blanked. She blinked once. Twice. Then a slow realization dawned on her face—followed by pure horror.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "He’s one of those people."

He raised a brow. "Those people?"

"The kind that takes a simple good deed and turns it into a lifetime membership package!" She pointed the fan at him accusingly. "Do you think I signed up for this?"

He didn’t even flinch. "You should have thought of that before saving me."

Isabella stared at him, absolutely speechless.

"Oh my gods," she muttered, dragging a hand down her face. "You’re impossible."

He tilted his head slightly, smirking. "That’s what you said earlier."

"I was wrong," she snapped. "You’re worse."

He leaned lazily against the cave wall, still looking at her like she was the one being ridiculous. "You can stop complaining. Just give me food."

She gasped dramatically. "You—you arrogant—" She stopped herself before she finished the sentence.

He arched a brow. "Go on."

"No," she said sweetly. "I might accidentally summon lightning if I say what I want to say."

Glimora’s tiny tail swished. She glanced between them like a spectator watching the best drama of her life.

The man, completely unbothered, shrugged. "You seem kind. I’m sure you wouldn’t let someone starve."

Isabella’s smile twitched. "You’d be surprised."

He just stared at her, silent. His gaze—again—didn’t move away.

She threw her hands up. "Stop looking at me like that! I’m not some benevolent goddess ready to serve you dinner!"

He didn’t respond. Just kept that same unreadable face, though a small corner of his mouth curved upward in amusement.

"Don’t you dare smile," she warned.

"Wasn’t going to," he said. "You’re just amusing when you’re angry."

"Amusing?" she repeated, aghast. "I’m not your entertainment!"

He nodded solemnly. "Of course not. You’re my provider."

She almost choked on air.

Glimora gave a tiny squeak that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Oh my gods!" Isabella stood up, clutching her fan like she was ready to smack him with it. "You—you bird-brained narcissist! How can one man have this much ego and still stand upright?"

"Good balance," he said simply.

Her jaw dropped again.

She pointed the fan at him. "You know what? I take back saving you. Next time, I’ll just let the water drown you."

He smiled faintly. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me!"

The energy between them crackled like two flints sparking. She wanted to stay mad, she really did—but there was something so absurd about his calm arrogance that it almost... amused her.

Almost.

He slowly walked closer—not threatening, just steady—and stopped a few feet from her. His voice softened. "If you were in my place, would you leave someone hungry?"

Her mouth opened—then shut.

That... was unfair.

Her face twisted in irritation. "You—"

He didn’t push. Just stood there, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

She threw her hands up. "Fine! Fine! You win, arrogant phoenix man. But I swear, if you breathe too loudly while eating, I’ll throw you out."

He smiled victoriously, but wisely said nothing.

She reached into her space again—her hand vanishing mid-air like the fabric between worlds parted just for her—and pulled out another cloth bundle.

The man’s eyes followed the movement, still fascinated by how the air rippled where she reached. It made him feel strangely mortal, seeing her command invisible spaces so casually.

She unwrapped the bundle, letting the scent of smoked meat fill the cave. "Here," she muttered, shoving it toward him. "Eat. And choke on it."

He took it carefully, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You’re very kind."

She glared at him, her voice deadpan. "I hope it gives you hiccups for the next three days."

He chuckled quietly, a deep, rich sound that echoed softly through the cave.

She turned away before he could see the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Ugh. You’re unbearable."

He sat down across from her, silent now, tearing a piece of meat with his teeth like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She stole a glance.

He ate neatly. Too neatly.

Like someone who’d grown up eating on golden plates instead of rough stone. His movements were graceful, his posture infuriatingly perfect, and somehow that made her even more annoyed.

"How can someone be annoying even while eating?" she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he said without looking up.

"You were supposed to."

He smiled to himself, faintly. "You’re funny when you’re mad."

She groaned. "Oh my gods, stop talking."

He didn’t. "You could just admit you like my company."

"I’d rather admit I like poison."

He laughed softly. "That can be arranged."

She shot him a deadly look.

"Joking," he said smoothly, though the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise.

For a while, silence reclaimed the cave again—if you ignored the quiet crunching of two very stubborn people pretending not to enjoy each other’s presence.

Glimora finished her meal and climbed into Isabella’s lap, curling up comfortably. Isabella absentmindedly stroked her fur, glaring across the fire at the man.

He met her gaze calmly, chewing one last piece, clearly winning whatever silent argument was happening between their eyes.