Viktor pushed the door open, and the stench hit him first.

Blood. Sweat. Fear.

The room was cramped—more like a storage closet than a place for someone to sleep. The walls were cracked, dotted with moisture stains that spoke of years of neglect.

In the corner, what passed for a bed was really just broken furniture—old wooden planks, a torn mattress, some cloth—all arranged haphazardly by Black, who'd probably done the best he could with what little they had.

And there, on that makeshift bed, was the young woman.

Bella.

Her body trembled violently, curled into herself like she was trying to disappear. Tears streaked down her face in slow trickles, catching the dim moonlight filtering through the single grimy window.

Her breathing was ragged, uneven, her face twisted in a frown that screamed of nightmares.

At first glance, someone might think she was cold. The room was freezing, after all.

But Viktor knew better.

His eyes traced over her shaking form, noting the way her fingers clawed at the thin blanket, the way her lips moved soundlessly—probably begging, pleading with ghosts only she could see.

'That dream again,' Viktor thought, his jaw tightening.

He'd seen this before. In his past life.

The memory surfaced unbidden—Bella, screaming herself awake in the middle of the night. The hollow look in her eyes when she finally came back to herself.

The way she'd flinch at sudden movements, at raised voices, at anything that reminded her of 'that day'.

The day Emperor Leo's soldiers had razed her village to the ground.

Viktor had saved her from Elena's house, pulled her from that hellhole where she'd been trapped as a slave. And later, much later, she'd told him everything. What they'd done. What Leo had ordered.

The atrocities committed in the name of demon subjugation.

How they'd killed her parents in front of her.

How they'd laughed while they did it.

How she'd escaped to the forest, only to be caught by slave traders who passed her from hand to hand, year after year, until she'd ended up at Elena's—coincidentally, the same place Viktor found her.

His gaze dropped lower, and his breath caught.

Her tail.

Or what was left of it.

The once-beautiful appendage that marked her as one of the beast-kin—a cat-type, judging by the ears twitching atop her head—had been severed.

Crudely. The stump was wrapped in dirty bandages, blood seeping through the fabric.

Viktor's hands clenched into fists.

'They cut it off during the struggle,' he thought, rage simmering beneath his skin. 'Slave traders... hah.'

In his past life, Bella had been traumatized when he'd found her at Elena's.

He took a slow breath, forcing the anger down.

Getting emotional wouldn't help her. Wouldn't help him.

He turned and walked out of the room, moving quietly through the dark corridors until he reached the small garden area behind the estate.

It was overgrown, neglected, but there were still useful things growing if you knew where to look.

Viktor knelt, his wounds protesting the movement, and began searching.

His eyes scanned the garden with practiced precision.

Hawkweed first—tucked against the base of a crumbling stone wall. Then yarrow, growing wild near the fence. Comfrey by the old tree stump. And finally, calendula petals scattered near the pathway.

He gathered them all carefully, his mind already working through the combinations.

[ Herb Master ]

His ability activated.

A faint green glow emanated from his hands as he combined the herbs, his knowledge guiding him. He removed the yarrow's irritant compounds by mixing it with calendula's soothing oils.

The comfrey's intensity was balanced by the hawkweed's gentler nature.

Each plant's weakness was negated by another's strength.

The glow intensified for a moment, then faded.

In his hands was something new—a potent healing remedy with none of the drawbacks.

Viktor made his way back to Bella's room.

When he entered, she was still lost in her nightmare, still trembling.

Viktor approached slowly, carefully, and sat down on the edge of the broken bed. It creaked under his weight, but she didn't stir.

He unwrapped the blood-soaked bandages around her tail stump, revealing the angry, infected wound beneath. It smelled worse up close—rot setting in, probably.

'She'll lose more than her tail if this isn't treated,' Viktor thought grimly.

He began applying the herb mixture to the wound, his movements gentle despite the rough calluses on his hands.

The combination worked immediately—the infection began to recede, the inflammation calming under the remedy's touch.

As he worked, his mind drifted back to his past life.

Bella had been... difficult.

The trauma had made her paranoid, aggressive, prone to lashing out at anyone who got too close.

It had taken months—'years'—for her to trust him, to open up, to become the fierce warrior he knew she could be.

And then they'd learned the truth about Emperor Leo hard way, that gay bastard completing his studies from academy was preparing his own harem.

Viktor naturally relaised now it was to just hide his interest in men by adding and persuing women aggresively—a classic way to advertise his manliness while playing doggy-doggy with that Marcus bastard.

However, Leo was a monster who'd orchestrated the destruction of Bella's village, who'd enslaved the innocent—all because he was too strong to find worthy enemy.

They'd joined forces. Made a pact to kill him but in this life.

She was just a traumatized slave who'd survived Leo's massacre, been caught by traders in the forest, lived through years of hell, ended up at Elena's house, and gotten her tail cut off struggling against those bastards.

'How the hell am I supposed to make this work?'

The answer came to him as he looked at her trembling form.

'Hope.'

In his past life, Bella had nothing. No family, no home, no reason to keep fighting except pure spite and the desire for revenge.

But if he could give her something—someone—to fight 'for'... like a baby and a husband?

Viktor's lips curved into a small, humorless smile.

'You better appreciate this, kitten.'

Suddenly, Bella's eyes snapped open.

"Y-You—!"

Her voice was hoarse, panicked.

Her yellow eyes—hollow and haunted—focused on him with the intensity of a cornered animal. Her cat ears flattened against her head, and her body tensed, ready to spring.

Her gaze darted down to his hand, still holding her bandaged tail stump.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then she lunged.

Or tried to.

Her body was too weak, too battered.

She managed to get her hands up, claws extended, aiming for his throat—but the movement was sluggish, uncoordinated.

Viktor didn't flinch.

"Kira is alive."

Three words.

That's all it took.

Bella froze mid-strike, her claws inches from his neck. Her breathing hitched, her entire body going rigid.

"...What?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with something between hope and terror.

Viktor slowly moved her hands away from his throat, his expression calm. "Your sister, Kira. She's alive. And she's safe."

Bella's eyes widened, tears forming instantly. "No... no, what—"

"Sigh," Viktor interrupted, his tone matter-of-fact. "She's alive. But you'll need to become strong if you want to save her."

Bella stared at him, her yellow eyes searching his face desperately for any sign of deception.

Her breathing grew more ragged, her body shaking—not from cold or nightmares this time, but from the overwhelming weight of what he'd just said.

"How... how do you 'know' that?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Who are you? What do you—"

Viktor stood slowly, his movements deliberate. He walked toward the window, his back to her, and stared out at the dark garden beyond.

"I can't promise you much," he said quietly. "But remember this."

Bella blinked, tears streaming down her face as she watched him.

There was something about his posture, something about the way he spoke, that made her breath catch.

And then she saw it.

His eyes.

For just a moment—just a flicker—they glowed violet in the reflection of the window.

"I will make sure," Viktor continued, his voice cold and certain, "that in this life, the hand that cuts off Emperor Leo's head... will be yours, Bella."

Bella gasped, her body jerking like she'd been struck.

"How..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "How do you know my name?"

Bella wasn't just a slave name or an alias. It was her 'real' name.

The one she'd buried decades ago, the one she thought had vanished along with her village, her family, her entire world.

No one knew that name. No one 'should' know it.

She tried to rise, her legs shaking beneath her. "Wait—wait, tell me who you are! How do you know all of this?!"

Viktor turned slowly, and the violet glow was gone—if it had ever been there at all. His eyes were just normal now, dark and unreadable.

He looked at her for a long moment, and then he smiled.

Not a cruel smile. Not a mocking one.

Something almost... gentle.

"I'll tell you one day," he said softly, stepping closer. "When I trust you as much as I did in my past life."

Before Bella could process those words, he reached out and ruffled her hair—his hand moving between her cat ears with surprising tenderness.

"My dear kitten."

Bella's breath caught.

Shock replaced confusion, and confusion gave way to something she couldn't name. Her ears twitched under his touch, and for just a moment, she forgot how to speak.

Then he turned and walked toward the door.

"Wait!" Bella called out, trying to stand, trying to follow—but her legs gave out, and she collapsed back onto the makeshift bed.

The door closed with a soft click.

Bella sat there in the darkness, her hand moving unconsciously to where he'd touched her head.

Her mind was a mess of emotions—fear, confusion, hope, anger—all swirling together in a chaotic storm she couldn't control.

And then she noticed it.

The smell.

Her nose twitched, picking up a scent that lingered in the air where Viktor had been standing. It was faint but distinct—sweet, almost intoxicating. Like nothing she'd ever encountered before.

Pheromones.

But that didn't make sense. Humans didn't produce pheromones like beast-kin did. And even if they did, they certainly didn't smell like 'this'.

Bella brought her hand to her nose, sniffing the lingering trace of his scent on her skin.

'Why...' she thought, her brow furrowing in confusion and something else—something uncomfortable that made her stomach flutter. 'Why does a human smell this sweet?'

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