Chapter 67
The Werewolf Realm
Mars POV
I wasn't kidding—I was in a really bad mood. Not the kind that made me lose control, but bad enough that every second felt heavier than the last. And the longer we stayed in the car, the worse it got.
This girl had a way of getting under my skin without even trying.
We got into the car—hers, I think. It smelled faintly of perfume and something floral, and from the scattered items on the passenger seat, I could tell it belonged to her. Not that it mattered. What mattered was that she was sitting beside me, driving calmly, acting like my presence meant nothing.
And that annoyed me.
Maybe it was because she didn't say a single word after we got in. Or maybe it was my ego—bruised, irritated, and screaming for attention.
She drove in complete silence, eyes fixed on the road, posture professional. Gone was the girl who had looked at me earlier with admiration. I didn't like the sudden change. I didn't like being ignored.
I found myself doing something I hadn't done in years.
I started a conversation.
"So, you're not going to say anything?" I asked, my voice cold, indifferent—like I didn't care. And I really didn't. At least, that's what I told myself. I didn't know why I was even asking.
Silence.
Dead silence.
She continued driving like I hadn't spoken at all.
I frowned.
"Aren't you going to ask who she is?" I added. "You'll just give up like that?"
She suddenly stopped the car.
She turned to face me, her expression calm but sharp.
"I see where the issue is, Mars."
The way she said my name—it was different. Not like the others. It made me frown again.
"What issue?" I asked.
She smirked.
"You do this a lot. You tell girls you're not interested, that you already have someone, just so they'll ask who she is." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I guess my silence is hurting your ego."
I didn't like that she was right.
Before I could respond, she continued.
"And let's clear something up. Earlier today? That was just a distraction. A small one." She shrugged lightly. "I was distracted by your handsome face."
My eyes widened.
Girls were usually shy around me. Or scared. Most couldn't even meet my eyes because of how I constantly frowned.
Compliments were rare.
But this girl said it like it was nothing.
She leaned closer, her gaze locked onto mine.
"Your handsome face. Your beautiful eyes." Her voice softened. "I guess being distracted by a handsome man is normal, right? Seeing someone attractive and falling a little—it's not new. It's just—"
She moved even closer.
And then she touched my chin.
She touched my chin.
And I let her.
No woman—no one—except Erin was allowed to touch me. Ever.
Yet strangely, I didn't feel disgusted. I didn't feel the urge to snap her wrist or crush her bones like I would have in the past.
Instead, I smelled something.
Magic.
My eyes darkened. I'd lived with witches long enough to recognize it instantly. This girl wasn't just an ordinary wolf living an ordinary life. She was hiding something—living behind another face.
Witches weren't allowed here.
So how?
She held my chin, studying my face like she was trying to memorize it.
"My eyes are clear now, Mars," she said softly. "I'm not interested in ancient vampires. I like young wolves—strong ones, with titles." She smiled faintly. "I almost forgot my goal just because of a mere face."
I grabbed her hand, my grip firm.
"What do you mean by ancient vampire?"
She chuckled.
"Didn't you say you're old back at the house? Should I start calling you Grandpa now?"
Anger flared.
Yes, I was old. Ancient, even. But for someone to call me old when I looked like this? Tch. She hadn't even seen my real face—Nicolas' face. If she saw my silver hair, she'd definitely call me Grandpa without hesitation.
I stared at her, my thoughts chaotic.
This wasn't me.
I didn't flirt. I didn't let girls touch me. I didn't grab their hands—I crushed them.
Back when I lived in the witches' realm, a girl once tried to touch me. I chopped off her hand without hesitation. I was disgusted.
Only Erin. Only her.
But now… this Marcy girl.
"What's your goal?" I asked. "Does it have something to do with your fake face? Because I can smell magic. I've lived with witches long enough to know."
Her eyes widened.
"Fake face? What magic?"
I didn't answer immediately. It was obvious now—this wasn't her real face.
"How did you get a witch to disguise you as someone else's daughter?" I asked quietly.
She stiffened.
Then she started the car and drove again, saying nothing. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel.
She was scared.
"Stop the car," I said.
She did.
She didn't look at me. She just sat there, trying to steady her shaking hands.
"It's fine," I said. "I won't tell anyone your secret. But you have to answer me."
She hesitated, then nodded.
Before I could ask another question, she spoke.
"You're right. It's not my real face." Her voice was low. "But I didn't get any witch involved. It was done in the human lands—by a surgeon. A human doctor who fixes people's faces. I didn't even know other races existed until I came back to the pack."
"A surgeon?" I scoffed. "A human doctor? No. I can tell you this is magic. Maybe you were fooled."
She shook her head firmly.
"I'm serious. It was done in a hospital. In the human lands."
I studied her carefully.
She wasn't lying.
"Alright," I said slowly. "Plastic surgery is permanent, right?"
"Yes."
"If I remove this disguise and show you your real face, will you believe me?"
She nodded.
Part of me wanted to clear her doubts. Another part of me wanted to see her true face.
I cast a spell, placing my hand gently on her cheek.
The disguise shattered.
She gasped.
"What—?"
I shook my head. "It's not plastic surgery."
She smiled, relief flooding her expression.
I looked at her real face. It was sharper, more defined—strong. It suited her temper far better than the calm, soft fake one.
I preferred it.
Wait—what?
What was I thinking?
Erin was the only one for me.
We drove in silence again, this time more comfortable, until we reached my place.
I was about to step out when she grabbed my hand.
I froze—but I didn't hate it.
"What is it?" I asked.
"My face," she said anxiously. "I can't go home like this. If anyone sees me, I'm dead. The whole pack hates this face."
My expression fell.
I hadn't thought about the consequences.
She pulled me back into the car, and I locked the door.
She brought my hands to her face.
"Fix it. Put the disguise back. You can do that, right?" she asked nervously.
When I dropped my hands, I felt her heart sink.
"You can't?" she snapped angrily. "If you can't fix it, why did you remove the stupid disguise?"
"You asked me to," I replied calmly.
She looked furious. Hurt. Scared.
"It's not that I can't fix it," I said after a moment. "It just can't happen now."
She straightened instantly.
"When?"
I sighed.
"Seven days."
"Seven days?!" she shouted. "I have to hide for seven days?!"
She turned to me, panic clear in her eyes.
"Where am I supposed to stay? My parents will look for me. If the pack sees me like this, I'm dead. Even the woods aren't safe."
I didn't know what came over me.
"You can stay with me," I said suddenly. "No one comes to my room. It's just me."
After seven days, I'd fix her face.
And after that, we'd go our separate ways. Forever.
She nodded slowly.
"So… how do I get inside without anyone seeing me?"
"I'll carry you," I said. "Super speed straight to my room."
"And no one will notice?"
"Trust me. No one will."
We got out of the car. I lifted her into my arms and rushed inside—
Only to freeze.
Theo was standing in my room.
Yes.
Theo.