Chapter 151: The Fox Comeback

Chapter 151: The Fox Comeback Derreck delivered the entire report in one breath; better to face Zeran’s fury all at once than drag it out. But his boss didn’t immediately snap at him like he expected. Zeran pulled his phone out from the inner pocket of his suit with frustration, only to find it dead because the battery had drained. He placed it on the wireless charger and powered it back on. A deep furrow was carved into his brow as a flood of notifications lit up the screen. He scrolled through them slowly; most of them were missed calls from Renar. Just as he was about to call him back, his index finger froze, hovering mid-air, trembling slightly when he noticed a message notification from Lethia that was sent just minutes after she left with Caelum. Zeran’s jaw tightened. His finger hesitated before tapping the message, and he opened it with his heart pounding like a war drum. His eyes widened as he read Lethia’s words, one by one: Why wasn’t it you who came with me? -- 07.40 am I wanted to show you a beautiful place near my ranch. -- 07.41 am I kept thinking about why I insisted our marriage should wait until the ranch was mine again. But... I think it’s pointless now. -- 07.50 am Zeran, let’s get married on the next full moon! -- 08.10 am Ah, that’s a week from today, right? -- 08.13 am I think that’s enough time to prepare everything. -- 08.13 am Let’s pick the dress first when I’m back. Okay? -- 08.25 am Zeran clenched his phone so tightly that the screen cracked beneath his fingers. He kept squeezing, harder, until the device split in two. Shards of glass and fragments of its inner parts dug into his palm, piercing deep into the skin. Blood began to drip from where the splinters were still lodged in his flesh. His nostrils flared. His breathing was heavy, neither from pain nor the bleeding, but because for the first time... he felt fear. "Sir, Renar Tuffin wants to talk to you, your pho—" Derreck stopped mid-sentence, and his eyes widened at the sight of Zeran’s bloodied palm. With a cold gaze, Zeran received the phone. "Hm?" His baritone rumbled low into the receiver. Renar’s voice came through, urging him to listen and explaining Damian’s entire plan. Upon receiving the details, the corner of Zeran’s eye twitched several times, his scowl deepening with every word. "Is he insane?" His voice shot up. But then, his expression eased. He smirked, just faintly, as Renar continued. "Let’s do that then." Zeran ended the call and handed the phone back to Derreck. "Take us to the main office," he ordered, voice sharp and cold. The driver responded with a silent nod. ’Please hang in there. Just don’t get hurt...’ He pleaded silently in his mind. *** Lethia kept splashing water onto her lips over and over at the sink until they stung from the friction. Her skin burned where it had been rubbed raw. She raised her gaze to the mirror, fists clenched at her sides, chest rising and falling with heavy, frustrated breaths. But what stared back at her wasn’t her own reflection; it was the orange fox, now with six tails swaying behind it. So, she hadn’t been lying about her tails after all. "Should I just kill him?" Lethia muttered under her breath. The fox smirked. "Can you even kill someone, though?" Lethia flinched. Something about Whisney’s voice had shifted. "Where have you been all this time? That was the longest you’ve ever disappeared, and I couldn’t reach you at all. So much happened and I... I didn’t even know what the hell was right or wrong anymore, even worse, what I should do with myself—" "Didn’t you enjoy it, though?" the fox cut her off with a lazy chuckle. "All that making out with the pup’s father." Her grin widened. "You... you haven’t forgotten our deal, right? Mm, I think my beads did quite a splendid job by themselves. Just as I thought... mortals can’t be trusted." The corner of Lethia’s eye twitched. "How do you even know who my pup’s father is? You disappeared right before he showed himself." "That’s exactly why I vanished!" the fox snapped. "You had that stomach pain in the game, remember? Your pup’s energy kicked me into the void, and then you met his father. His energy, that damn pheromone bonding, formed a shield that kept me out. All I could do was watch the filth you two made out in from some black, uncertain hole. I screamed your name, but you kept ignoring me. Like you actually wanted me gone. No, like you both were working together to shut me out. How. Dare. You." "W–what are you talking about?" Lethia asked, her throat dry as she swallowed hard. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Whisney’s form seemed slightly larger now, her body glowing faintly, especially around her six tails. It was almost like flickering flames. Her eyes gleamed brighter, sharper, piercing. A strange fear crawled under Lethia’s skin. When Whisney had appeared in the mirror earlier, there was a sense of change, like she’d glowed up into something fiercer. But now... her energy felt darker, and her behavior worsened. "Are you not?" Whisney hissed. "Am I wrong? Then why do I feel like you betrayed me? Maybe I should’ve just killed your pup, taken over your body, and raised my beads myself if I knew you’d turn on me." There was no trace of the playful Whisney anymore. Her voice was soaked in bitter mockery and deep disappointment. Lethia clicked her tongue. "Are you threatening me?" "Can’t I?" "There must be a reason a mortal Lycan’s energy could block an immortal spirit like you. Why? Does it bruise your pride?" She narrowed her eyes. "If you could watch me making out with him, then you definitely heard me calling for you, searching for you." "You’ve grown bold, haven’t you? Don’t you have fear?" "I do," Lethia replied, drawing a long breath. "But I also know you’re just throwing empty threats. If you really wanted to kill my pup and take over my body, you’d have done it already. You said it yourself, I’m at your mercy. If you leave me, I will die. But you’re still stuck with me, aren’t you?" "You!" Whisney’s eyes widened, unblinking and sharp. "You know damn well I’m not betraying you. You’re just frustrated and pissed off by something you don’t even understand yourself. So you need someone to blame." "Who says I don’t understand?" Whisney snapped back too fast and defensively. Lethia smirked. She’d hit the nerve. She folded her arms across her chest and stepped back, leaning against the wall with a calmness. The fox’s eyes flickered, faltering like she’d tripped over her own words. Then came that sly, grating giggle, the kind that made skin crawl. "You... you dare to corner me? You dare to twist my words back at me?" The echo of that giggle rang louder, more unhinged. "I learn from the best. You’re a natural-born manipulator." Lethia’s voice was firm, her eyes locked on Whisney’s. "And I know you’ll use guilt, twist the truth, and make me stumble to whatever game you want." She tried to read the fox’s thoughts through her stare, digging deeper. But Whisney just glared back, brimming with hate, like a wall, impossible to read through. Still... the painting back in Reia’s mansion had taught Lethia something new. "Whisney, let’s stop pretending and be honest with me. You... you’re the last fox spirit in this world, aren’t you? You’re not gathering beads to ascend to some higher realm. You... you want revenge, don’t you?" The fox didn’t answer right away. Silence stretched, heavy and cold, then she let out a low, obscure chuckle. "You saw it, didn’t you? When I researched into fox spirit history after the Gala. That’s why you’re trying to guilt-trip me, to bury your real motive." The fox still responded with laughter; what began as a low chuckle turned into a fit of giggles, then burst into a full-blown cackle that made Lethia’s ears ring with irritation from the shrill pitch. Whisney’s six tails swayed with the rhythm of her amusement, the flames surrounding her body flaring hotter, licking the edges of her form with a wild pulse. "Hah... this mortal is funny," she sneered. "You think just because you looked at some painting and did a little internet digging about what I am, that makes your theory valid? Are you kidding me?" "Is it not?" Lethia shot back. "Am I wrong? Then go on... kill my pup and take over my body right now. My life’s pointless anyway. It’s just a matter of time before Varrel might rape me. If you really want my body so badly, take it. Use your power and finish your mission yourself." Whisney wasn’t laughing anymore. Her sly almond eyes stared at Lethia with a new weight, contemplative, cautious. The whiskers on her snout twitched slightly, like she was trying to hide the scent of panic crawling under her skin. "Can you handle it, though?" Her voice came out softer, quieter now. Lethia raised a brow. "You’ll find out eventually," Whisney continued. "So if I tell you now... I wonder... can you handle it?" Lethia gave a crooked smirk. "Will it kill me? Because at this point, the only thing I can’t handle is dying." Whisney’s sly smile curved deeper. "No. It won’t kill you. You’re the one who needs to kill."