After the incident of the "calming touch," the invisible string tensioning the master bedroom drew tighter—not with fear, but with a delicate, mutually understood sense of probing observation.
Lysander had not suffered another severe episode, but Selene felt the weight of his gaze upon her more frequently, and more heavily. It was no longer the look one gave a tool or an antidote, but that of a man dissecting a perplexing enigma. Once, during one of their silent, shared meals in the Moonstone Wing's sitting room, he had asked, with feigned nonchalance, about her childhood health—had there been anything unusual?
Her answer was cautious and truthful, as far as her orphanage memories went: an ordinary child, perhaps slightly cold-natured, feeling the winter's bite more keenly than others.
Lysander had listened, said nothing, and merely wiped his mouth with a napkin, the emotions in his obsidian eyes unreadable.
Selene knew he wasn't entirely convinced. Her特殊性 was a stone cast into the lake of his mind, creating ripples far wider than she had imagined.
That afternoon, as Selene browsed a botanical compendium in the library, Lucian arrived with a message: the physician overseeing Lysander's care, Dr. Lin, required a more comprehensive physical examination, including deeper hematological analysis and a potential assessment.
"The Master has approved," Lucian added, watching for her reaction.
Selene closed the book, her fingers tracing its smooth cover. She wasn't surprised. Her ability to soothe him beyond the scope of her blood would inevitably invite deeper scrutiny. It meant she would be more of a specimen, placed under a microscope.
It was dangerous. But it could also be an opportunity.
A chance to understand herself, and perhaps… to increase her leverage.
"Alright," she said, meeting Lucian's gaze with equanimity. "Do I need to prepare?"
A flicker of surprise crossed his features at her readiness. "No. Dr. Lin will manage everything. One hour. The medical suite."
The medical suite, located in the sub-levels of the main house, was less a room and more a compact, high-tech laboratory. Filled with unnameable, precision instruments and humming with the scent of antiseptic and a strange energy field, its cold metal and blinking screens felt more like a research outpost than a place of healing.
Dr. Lin, as severe as ever, directed Selene to a platform reminiscent of an MRI scanner, though more streamlined and etched with faint energy conduits.
"Relax, Miss Selene. This is routine. We require more detailed baseline data," her voice came through a speaker, cool and utterly impersonal.
Selene complied. The surface was cold against her thin clothing. The machine whirred to life, a low hum filling the room as a soft beam of light passed from head to toe. She felt a faint energy current trickle through her limbs, not unpleasant, but making her feel utterly exposed.
Next came the blood draw—more vials this time, filling several vacuum tubes with different colored caps. Dr. Lin worked with focused intensity, handling the samples as if they were priceless artifacts.
"I understand physical contact also has a calming effect on the Master?" Dr. Lin asked without looking up, her tone as casual as if discussing the weather.
Selene's senses sharpened. So, this was the point. She measured her words. "I'm not certain. When he was… unwell, I touched him. He seemed to find some relief."
Dr. Lin stopped writing and looked up, her sharp gaze assessing Selene through her protective glasses. "Specifics? Location of contact? Duration? Your subjective sensation? Any perceived energy transfer?"
A volley of clinical, icy questions. Selene did her best to recall and describe, but the sensation had been too elusive for precise scientific language.
"Fascinating," Dr. Lin noted, scribbling only a few cryptic lines in her notebook. "Your Pure Yin Constitution may be more reactive than initially theorized. It may not be just your blood. Your very bio-field could have a harmonizing effect on the Master's destabilized energy matrix."
Bio-field? Energy matrix? The terms were foreign, but Selene grasped the essential truth: her value indeed extended beyond her blood.
The examination lasted nearly two hours. By the end, Selene felt drained, as if she had undergone a mentally taxing ordeal.
As she exited the medical suite, she was surprised to find Lysander waiting outside. He leaned against the cold metal wall of the corridor, arms crossed, as if fresh from a meeting—his tie slightly loosened, a trace of weariness around his eyes, but his gaze as sharp as ever, fixed on her.
"Well?" he asked, his voice low in the sterile silence.
It was unclear if he referred to the procedure or to her state.
"It's done," she replied, evading the direct meaning, rubbing her sore arm.
Lysander's eyes tracked the movement for a brief moment before he turned toward the elevator. "Let's go."
They ascended in silence. The confined space hummed with machinery. Watching the floor numbers change, Selene spoke, her voice calm yet laced with newfound resolve.
"Mr. Thorne, if my 'bio-field' is truly useful to you… I wish to learn more."
Lysander didn't turn, only glanced at her, a brow slightly arched. "Learn what?"
"About my own body. About your… condition." She lifted her chin, her clear eyes meeting his with a desperate sort of courage. "I don't want to always wait passively for your episodes, or to be passively drained. If I can learn to actively understand this 'ability,' it might be more beneficial. For both of us."
This was her calculated decision. Rather than be studied as an unpredictable object, she would participate. She needed to grasp the rules to survive in this Lycan world, perhaps even… to negotiate.
A flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a deeper scrutiny, passed through Lysander's dark pupils. He looked at her as if truly seeing her for the first time—this human woman he had bound to him was neither meekly submissive nor paralyzed by fear, but tenaciously carving out a path for herself, seeking agency even in despair.
The elevator chimed, arriving at the main floor.
Lysander didn't exit immediately. He turned, facing her, his large frame seeming to fill the space. He reached out, not to touch her, but to press the door-open button, holding it.
"How?" he asked, his tone unreadable.
"Access to Dr. Lin's research. Materials on Lycan energy systems and… the curse," Selene listed, her heart pounding, but her gaze steady. "Within the bounds of your security, of course."
It was a bold request, verging on a challenge to his authority.
Lysander fell silent, his gaze a physical weight on her face, weighing, assessing. Time seemed to suspend.
After a moment, he released the button. The doors began to slide open.
"Granted," he said, the word curt. He stepped out first, leaving a rigid silhouette. "Lucian will provide access. Remember your place, Selene."
He didn't look back. But Selene, standing in the elevator, watching his back disappear around the corner, drew a slow, deep breath.
She had done it. She had secured the first step.
The path ahead was still fraught with thorns, but her hand now held one more card. To understand the enemy, to understand herself, to understand this bizarre symbiosis—this was the path of survival she had chosen in this den of wolves.
Where it led, she didn't know. But she would walk it.