Aira's arms trembled as she half-dragged, half-carried the unconscious man down the narrow alley that led to her house. His body was burning, heavy, yet somehow familiar—like a weight she was meant to carry.
The streets were empty, blanketed in the silence of midnight.
By the time she reached home, her body was aching, but she didn't stop.
She opened the creaky wooden door, careful not to wake the neighbors. Her small house was dim, lit only by the moonlight peeking through the broken window. Her parents were still out cleaning the office building downtown. They wouldn't be back until morning.
She gently laid the man on her mattress—a thin layer of cloth on the floor. She grabbed a wet cloth and pressed it to his burning forehead.
His breathing was erratic. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and his lips whispered words she couldn't understand.
"Save... her... don't let them... kill her again…"
Again?
Aira frowned. What did that mean?
She sat beside him the entire night, dozing off only once.
Just before sunrise, she got up, changed quickly, and ran out to buy some porridge and fever medicine. She didn't have much money, but she didn't care.
When she returned with the food, she paused at the door.
Voices.
Her heart stopped.
Her parents were home.
And they were arguing.
"This is what we get for working all night?" her mother cried. "A strange man in our daughter's bed?"
"Who is he?" her father shouted. "Aira, where are you?!"
Aira rushed in.
"Wait—please! It's not what you think!"
Her mother stepped back. "He's half-dressed and unconscious! How is it not what we think?!"
The man stirred. Slowly, painfully, he sat up, blinking in confusion.
Aira rushed to his side. "You're awake—thank goodness…"
He turned to her parents and, to everyone's shock, bowed slightly. "I'm sorry. There's been a misunderstanding. I was… sick. She helped me."
"You were at the party," her father said, narrowing his eyes. "The CEO's party."
The man looked up. Calm. Confident. Familiar.
"I am the CEO."
The room froze.
Aira blinked. "W-what?"
He looked at her, his gaze softening. "My name is Aiden Blackthorn. CEO of Blackthorn Industries."
Her mother gasped. "That's impossible! You're the richest man in the country!"
Aiden gave a tired smile. "Even the richest fall sometimes. And when they do, they're lucky to be found by someone as kind as your daughter."
Aira's cheeks flushed.
Her parents stood there, stunned, their anger slowly melting into awkward silence.
Aiden turned to Aira again. "I owe you more than I can ever repay."
Before she could speak, her stomach growled loudly.
Aiden paused.
Aira covered her face in embarrassment. "Sorry…"
He let out a soft chuckle. "I'll take care of that too."
---
Later that day, Aiden returned to his mansion. Aira thought it was over. Just a strange, magical, chaotic night.
But destiny wasn't done yet.
Because the next time she saw him…
He would no longer be the wounded wolf in her bed.
He would be the man who stood before her in public, as her savior—and as the only one who could save her family.