That night, Blackthorne Manor did not sleep.
Evelyn realized it the moment she stepped out onto the second-floor corridor after dinner. The manor remained quiet, yes, but it was not the peaceful kind of quiet she associated with expensive homes and sleeping aristocrats.
This silence was tense, watchful.
The guards stationed throughout the halls had doubled.
Servants moved more quickly than before, their lowered voices barely audible as they passed through the corridors carrying lanterns and folded blankets.
Somewhere downstairs, heavy doors opened and closed in intervals, followed by the distant sound of boots crossing stone floors.
Lucien had left less than twenty minutes ago. Yet his absence lingered heavily over the manor.
Evelyn paused beside one of the tall windows overlooking the courtyard. Snow drifted endlessly across the estate grounds, pale against the darkness of the forest beyond the gates.
Blackthorne territory stretched far into the north, the land cold and severe beneath winter skies. Even from here, the woods looked unsettling, too dense, too still, like something old lived beneath the trees and preferred not to be disturbed.
"The Alpha always causes the manor to become restless before patrol nights."
Evelyn turned slightly.
Mina stood a respectful distance behind her, carrying folded linens in her arms. The maid looked hesitant, as though uncertain whether speaking casually to the new Luna would be welcomed or punished.
Evelyn offered a small smile. "You make him sound terrifying."
Mina immediately lowered her eyes. "Forgive me, Madam. I did not mean disrespect."
"No, I know." Evelyn leaned lightly against the window frame. "But now I'm curious. Is he always like this?"
The maid hesitated again.
Evelyn quickly realized something important about Blackthorne Manor. Everyone here was afraid of saying the wrong thing, not only about Lucien, but about everything.
Mina chose her words carefully. "The Alpha is respected deeply by the pack."
That was diplomatic enough to avoid answering entirely.
Evelyn almost laughed.
"I didn't ask whether he was respected," she said gently. "I asked whether he was always this intense."
Mina blinked in visible surprise. Perhaps the original Evelyn had never spoken this openly with servants.
After a moment, the maid admitted quietly, "The Alpha has become stricter these past years."
Years. Not months. That's interesting...
Before Evelyn could ask more, movement below caught her attention.
Cassian crossed the courtyard alone. He wore a dark coat over his training clothes, one hand tucked into his pocket as snow gathered in his black hair. His pace was brisk but restless, as though he had left the manor simply because remaining inside had become unbearable.
Evelyn frowned slightly. "He's going out?"
Mina followed her gaze. "The young master usually visits the southern training grounds after the Alpha leaves for patrol."
"At this hour?"
"He rarely sleeps early."
That did not sound healthy.
Evelyn watched the boy disappear across the courtyard toward a distant stone structure partially hidden behind snowy trees. The loneliness around him was difficult to ignore. A strange ache tugged at her chest unexpectedly. She barely knew him. And yet…
Maybe because she remembered the novel, or she remembered losing people too. Or maybe because Cassian carried himself like someone who had spent years pretending not to need comfort until eventually no one offered it anymore.
Evelyn sighed softly.
"Madam?"
She looked toward Mina. "Can you show me where the kitchens are?"
The maid looked startled. "The kitchens?"
"Yes."
"Do you need something prepared?"
"Not exactly."
Twenty minutes later, Evelyn stood inside the largest kitchen she had ever seen in her life. Warm light spilled across polished counters while cooks and servants moved busily between ovens and storage shelves.
The scent of fresh bread, herbs, roasted meat, and sweet pastries filled the air so thoroughly that for the first time since arriving in this world, Evelyn felt genuinely comforted. Food had always made places feel human. Even haunted werewolf mansions.
The moment she entered, however, the conversation stopped. Every servant in the room froze. Several looked genuinely alarmed. Apparently, the Luna did not casually visit kitchens.
Evelyn ignored the awkward silence bravely.
"Hello," she said.
No one answered immediately.
Then an older woman near the ovens bowed stiffly. "Madam."
Evelyn smiled politely. "Would it be terribly inconvenient if I borrowed tea and… perhaps something sweet?"
The servants exchanged confused looks.
One younger maid nearly dropped an entire tray.
The older cook recovered first. "Of course not, Madam. We can prepare whatever you desire."
"Actually…" Evelyn glanced around thoughtfully. "Do you have cocoa?"
The room went silent again.
Ah. Maybe cocoa did not exist here. Wonderful.
After several painful seconds, one of the cooks spoke cautiously. "We have imported cacao powder from the southern territories."
Evelyn brightened instantly. "Perfect."
The servants looked deeply concerned by her enthusiasm.
An hour later, Evelyn walked through the snowy courtyard carrying a tray herself despite Mina's repeated offers to do it instead.
"It's fine," Evelyn insisted. "I know where I'm going."
"Madam, servants should carry heavy things for you."
"It's hot chocolate, not royal treasure."
Mina looked completely bewildered by that statement.
The southern training hall stood near the edge of the estate grounds, partially hidden behind tall frost-covered trees. Warm golden light spilled faintly through the windows, contrasting sharply against the snowstorm outside.
As Evelyn approached, she heard the sharp crack of wood striking wood.
Then another.
And another.
She paused near the doorway.
Cassian stood alone in the center of the hall, sword in hand. He moved with frightening precision.
Even Evelyn, who knew absolutely nothing about swordsmanship, could tell immediately that he was talented. Every strike was sharp, controlled, efficient, with no wasted movement and no hesitation.
But there was anger beneath it.
Not explosive anger.
The quieter kind.
The kind people had carried for years.
Cassian suddenly stopped mid-motion. His gaze snapped toward the entrance.
Wolf hearing, Evelyn remembered too late.
Oops.
For one awkward second, they stared at each other.
Cassian looked mildly shocked.
Evelyn lifted the tray slightly. "I brought a peace offering."
The future male lead blinked.
"What?"
"You looked like you were one dramatic training sequence away from emotional collapse."
His expression became utterly blank.
Evelyn walked inside before she could embarrass herself further.
Warmth immediately wrapped around her from the large fireplaces lining the hall. Wooden weapons rested neatly along the walls beside racks of real blades polished to silver brightness.
Cassian lowered his sword slowly. "Why are you here?"
"Terrible insomnia," Evelyn answered easily. "And Mina said you come here often."
"That still doesn't explain the tray."
"Hot chocolate."
Cassian stared at her as though she had spoken another language.
Evelyn sighed internally.
Right. Fantasy werewolf world.
She placed the tray carefully on a nearby bench. Steam curled upward from two dark cups.
"It's sweet," she explained. "People drink it when they're stressed, tired, emotionally damaged, or going through existential crises."
"You made this?"
"I supervised aggressively."
To her surprise, Cassian huffed out a quiet laugh.
Evelyn handed him one of the cups carefully. "No poison, I promise."
"That's exactly what someone poisoning me would say."
"Oh, good. You do have personality."
Cassian accepted the cup reluctantly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Snow tapped softly against the tall windows while firelight flickered across the training hall. The atmosphere felt strangely peaceful compared to the oppressive silence of the manor itself.
Cassian took one cautious sip.
Evelyn smiled immediately. "See? Emotional support beverage."
"It's strange."
"That means you like it."
"I didn't say that."
"You took a second sip."
Cassian looked deeply offended by being understood so quickly. It was honestly adorable.
Evelyn sat carefully on the wooden bench nearby, wrapping her hands around her own cup. The warmth seeped pleasantly into her fingers. For the first time since waking in this world, she almost felt normal.
Cassian leaned his sword against the wall before speaking again. "You're different."
There it was again.
Evelyn nearly groaned.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true."
His gaze studied her carefully now, not hostile, but searching. "Before today, you barely spoke during meals."
Ah. So the original Evelyn really had been painfully quiet.
Cassian continued slowly, "You avoided looking directly at people. Especially Father."
That detail alone revealed quite a bit about the original marriage dynamic.
"And now?" Evelyn asked carefully.
"Now you joke with servants."
Oops.
"You made hot chocolate."
Fair point.
"And you smiled at Father during dinner."
Evelyn nearly choked on her drink.
"I absolutely did not."
Cassian looked unconvinced.
Heat crept into Evelyn's face immediately.
Traitorous body.
She cleared her throat aggressively. "Your father is intimidating. Smiling near him is a survival reflex."
That actually made Cassian grin faintly.
Dangerous.
The boy was far too handsome when he smiled.
Evelyn immediately activated stronger maternal instincts.
Nope. Protective aunt energy only.
Cassian looked down at the steaming drink in his hands.
"The manor hasn't felt this…" He hesitated.
"Alive?" Evelyn offered softly.
His silence answered enough.
The words settled heavily between them.
Evelyn suddenly understood something painful:
This family had been grieving for years.
Not loudly or openly. But constantly.
The dead Luna's absence still lived inside Blackthorne Manor like a ghost no one acknowledged directly.
Cassian spoke again after a long pause. "Most people who marry into powerful packs only care about status."
So... there it was, the real issue.
Evelyn leaned back slightly. "And you think that's why I married your father?"
Cassian did not answer immediately.
Honest child.
Finally, he admitted quietly, "I didn't understand why else you would."
The answer hurt more than it should have. Not because of herself. But because no seventeen-year-old should sound so resigned while talking about relationships.
Evelyn looked down into her cup for a moment before speaking gently.
"Cassian… Adults are often more complicated than children deserve."
He frowned slightly.
"That sounds depressing."
"It usually is."
A brief silence followed.
Then, unexpectedly, Cassian asked quietly, "Were you unhappy before marrying Father?"
The question startled her completely.
Because technically…
Yes.
She had died unhappy.
Not miserable.
Not broken.
But lonely in ways she had ignored too long.
Evelyn stared into the firelight dancing across the training hall.
"I think," she said slowly, "sometimes people become tired of surviving alone."
Cassian looked at her carefully. Not like a child anymore. But like someone trying very hard to understand another lonely person.
The atmosphere softened dangerously.
Evelyn quickly stood before she accidentally adopted the entire Blackthorne family emotionally.
"Well," she announced brightly, "that was enough emotional vulnerability for one evening."
Cassian blinked.
"You decide that suddenly?"
"Yes. It's a talent."
She picked up the empty tray before pointing toward his abandoned sword. "And you should stop training when you're upset."
"Why?"
"Because emotionally compromised people make terrible decisions."
"You sound like Father."
Evelyn froze in horror.
Cassian immediately looked amused.
"You're smiling again," he observed calmly.
"I regret everything."
For the first time that night, Cassian laughed properly.
The sound echoed warmly through the training hall.
And somewhere far beyond the snowy windows, deep within the northern forest surrounding Blackthorne territory, something howled.