Who are you

Nana didn't remember falling asleep, but exhaustion had finally overtaken her.

When she woke, the dim room was the same, except for the soft knock at the door before it swung open. A guard stood there, his expression cold

"Get up," he ordered. "The Devourer has sent for you."

Nana's heart pounded. She sat up slowly, her mind still groggy from sleep. "Why?"

The guard didn't answer. He only stepped aside, waiting.

Swallowing her nerves, Nana stood. There was no point in resisting. Whatever Kier wanted, she was about to find out.

Nana was led through the grand halls of Kier's domain, her heart pounding with each step. The guards flanked her, their expressions blank, giving nothing away.

When they reached a large chamber, the heavy doors creaked open. The room was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows along the stone walls.

At the far end, Kier sat on an ornate chair, one leg lazily draped over the other, his sharp eyes fixed on her. He looked both regal and dangerous, his presence suffocating.

The guards pushed her forward before stepping back.

"Sit," Kier commanded.

Nana hesitated, then obeyed, lowering herself onto the wooden chair in front of him.

For a moment, he simply studied her. His piercing gaze made her shift uncomfortably, but she refused to look away.

Finally, he spoke. "Where are you from?"

His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

Nana swallowed. "A village near the eastern river."

Kier's expression didn't change. "Your family?"

She hesitated, her chest tightening. "They're dead."

A flicker of understanding passed through his eyes, but it was gone too quickly to be sure.

"Tell me about them," he ordered.

Nana clenched her fists in her lap. "Why?"

Kier tilted his head slightly. "Because I want to know."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "My father was a fisherman. My mother made clothes. I had two younger brothers. They were… loud." Her voice wavered slightly, but she forced herself to keep going. "We weren't rich, but we had enough."

Kier watched her closely. "And now you're the only one left."

Nana's throat tightened. "Yes."

Silence stretched between them. The weight of everything she had lost threatened to crush her, but she wouldn't break—not in front of him.

Kier finally leaned back, exhaling slowly. "You were the only one taken from your village. Do you know why?"

Nana shook her head. "No."

His gaze remained locked onto hers, as if he was searching for something—an answer neither of them had.

"You're afraid," he said after a while.

Nana's jaw tightened. "I should be."

Kier's lips curled slightly, almost in amusement. "And yet, you still speak to me."

She clenched her fists. "Because if you wanted me dead, I'd already be dead."

Something unusual flickered in his eyes. He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he tapped a finger against the armrest of his chair, deep in thought.

Then, in a tone that left no room for argument, he said, "From now on, you will stay here."

Nana frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kier's gaze darkened. "You belong to me now."

Kier's gaze remained locked onto her, sharp and cold. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest.

"Do you know what you've done to me?" he asked.

Nana blinked, confused. "What?"

His eyes darkened. "Back there… on that platform. I have never hesitated before. Never questioned a kill. And yet, when it was your turn—" He stopped, exhaling slowly as if the words themselves frustrated him. "Something stopped me."

Nana swallowed. "I didn't do anything."

Kier tilted his head, studying her. "Did you?"

She clenched her fists. "I'm just a girl. I don't have magic. I didn't cast a spell on you."

His jaw tightened. "Then why are you still alive?"

Nana shook her head. "I don't know."

Silence stretched between them. Kier's expression remained cold, but there was something in his eyes—something unsettled.

Finally, he leaned back, exhaling. "Then I will find out."

Kier rose from his chair in one swift, fluid motion. Nana's body tensed as he reached for something on the table beside him—a sharp knife that gleamed under the dim torchlight.

Before she could react, he stepped forward and seized her wrist.

Nana's breath hitched. "W-What are you doing?"

He ignored her, turning her palm upward. His grip was firm but not painful, his fingers cold against her skin.

"I need to know," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Then, without hesitation, he pressed the blade against her palm.

Kier dragged the blade across Nana's palm, a thin line of red appearing instantly. She gasped, wincing at the sharp sting.

Before she could pull away, he did the same to his own palm, slicing it without hesitation. Then, gripping her wrist tighter, he pressed their bleeding hands together.

The moment their blood mixed, a sudden force surged between them.

Nana's breath hitched as a strange warmth spread through her veins, like fire and ice colliding inside her. Kier's body tensed, his sharp intake of breath the only sign that he felt it too.

The torches in the room flickered wildly, as if reacting to whatever was happening. The air thickened, charged with something unseen but powerful.

Kier's eyes widened slightly—not in fear, but in realization.

"Oh, no. Not you?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kier's grip loosened as he pulled back abruptly, his expression twisting in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"This isn't right," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Nana was still breathing heavily, staring at their hands. Her wound—fresh and deep just moments ago—was gone. The blood had vanished, the skin smooth as if nothing had happened.

Her heart pounded. "What just—"

"Leave," Kier snapped, his voice tight.

She hesitated.

"I said leave!" His tone was sharp, filled with something she couldn't quite place—confusion, maybe even fear.

Nana didn't wait for him to say it again. She turned and bolted, running full speed down the halls. The guards barely glanced at her as she rushed past, her feet pounding against the cold stone floors.

By the time she reached her room, she slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her back against it, gasping for breath.

She looked down at her hands again.

Completely healed.

What was happening?