"Did you take the wrong medicine or something?" Xarion glanced at the gift box in his hand and shot Paros a suspicious look.
You're the one who's taken the wrong medicine.
Paros felt an immediate flicker of irritation. For some reason, every time he saw this wolf, he found him insufferable.
But—for Rory's sake—he forced himself to suppress it.
"I'm perfectly fine," Paros replied evenly. "These gifts are a sincere gesture. A thank-you—for everything you've done."
Xarion opened the box.
The moment he saw what was inside, his brow lifted slightly.
Yeah. This dragon had definitely lost it.
Beast cores? And not just any—high-rank ones.
"Alright. I'll take it."
Eleventh-rank cores? No way he was refusing those. Xarion accepted them without a shred of politeness.
Yuel, meanwhile, studied Paros in silence, his gaze sharp and thoughtful.
Under that scrutiny, Paros felt a faint prickle of unease.
"Yuel… is there a problem?" he asked.
