Liana couldn’t answer Eclace’s question. She just wanted to escape from all eyes.

“I’m sorry. I… I need to go.”

She bowed her head deeply, then hurried straight to her room and locked the door behind her.

Eclace made as if to follow, but his gaze drifted back to the duke’s bedchamber. Something serious must have happened—just as he’d feared.

He clenched his fist and headed for the duke’s door.

“Lord Lester!”

Thump, thump, thump—he pounded on the closed door.

There was no answer from inside.

Breaking the silence, Eclace wrenched the door open and stepped in. The instant he did, a stifling wave of heavy musk and oppressive heat hit him.

‘This scent… it can’t be…’

The moment Eclace flinched from the overwhelming smell, a huge hand clamped around the back of his neck.

“Gh—!”

Bang—Eclace’s back slammed against the wall, knocking a picture frame to the floor. As he gasped, the feral glint in Shed’s eyes bore into him.

“So you really thought you could fool me.”

“Lo-Lord Lester…!”

“Giving me fake suppressants—were you trying to make me lose control?”

Shed growled like a beast, tightening his grip around Eclace’s neck.

Thick veins bulged along Eclace’s throat, his lips parted desperately for air as he shook his head.

“W-what…!”

Shed tossed him to the wrecked floor before he could finish.

Crash!

Eclace landed hard, gasping for breath, curling up in pain.

A shard of porcelain scraped his pale cheek, leaving a vivid red line, and the impact sent pain radiating through his back.

Shed stepped forward, crushing the broken fragments beneath his shoes, and nudged Eclace’s chin up with the toe of his black boot.

“Why did you give me fake medicine?”

Shed’s question was a threat in itself.

Eclace, sharp as ever, realized instantly what he meant by “medicine”: the suppressant.

“Fake medicine? I—I swear, I gave you the very best…”

“The best suppressant, you say? This worthless stuff?”

With a harsh voice, Shed tossed the pill bottle at Eclace’s feet.

There were only one or two pills left in the bottle, rattling around as it rolled.

“…Did you really take all of these?”

Eclace picked up the bottle and stared at it in disbelief.

Shed didn’t bother to answer, but his silence was all the confirmation Eclace needed.

“And you’re still like this…”

Forgetting his own predicament, Eclace looked from the bottle to Shed and back again. There must have been thirty pills originally.

For an ordinary Lupus, one or two were enough; three or four would leave someone groggy and barely able to function.

Five would be dangerously debilitating—ten could subdue even a berserk monster.

But this man—

“You ate the whole bottle—are you out of your mind?”

Eclace staggered to his feet.

Shed, still on his feet after swallowing so much suppressant, was unbelievable.

“D*mn it! No matter how many I take, nothing works!”

With a bang, Shed’s voice rang out, raw and furious.

“Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you want the whole house to know you’re in heat?”

Eclace frowned as he tried to calm the agitated Shed. If word got out that his rut had arrived and that the suppressants were ineffective, everything could unravel.

Eclace forced himself to assess Shed’s state. Despite having drunk almost the entire bottle, the heat still lingered, raw and palpable.

The veins stood out on Shed’s neck, pulsing visibly. His skin bore scratches—probably self-inflicted, in a desperate attempt to fight the urge.

“There’s nothing wrong with the suppressant.”

Eclace insisted. He’d stake his reputation on it—you could give the same batch to any Lupus and prove it.
If rumors spread about Shed’s rut, the damage to the Vitel family would be catastrophic—especially with all their joint ventures with the Lester house.

There was no way he’d risk such a thing with fake medicine.

Shed ground his teeth, fists clenched in frustration.

“Then why…!”

He thought of the desire that had possessed him—so uncontrollable it made him sick. He couldn’t erase the memory of Liana’s tear-stained face from his mind.

“If it’s about Lupus, you know more than I do, don’t you? You must’ve talked plenty about rutting cycles…”

The truth was, Eclace was just as frustrated—there was nothing in his knowledge to explain this.

But Shed was at a loss, too. Every other Lupus he’d met simply took a suppressant when rut approached, then rested or went about their business. He’d always thought it was a simple problem—take the pills, and it’s solved.

Eclace set his mouth in a hard line, watching Shed struggle in confusion.

“So… what did you do to Miss Liana?”

The name slipped out like a barb, making Shed flinch as if pricked.

“You… saw Liana?”

“Did you force yourself on her…?”

Instead of answering, Eclace pressed his own question.

For the first time, he thought he could understand those who despised the Lupus. He understood now why they were called beasts, why they’d remained slaves for so long. And the same went for Shed himself.

When Shed turned his head away without replying, Eclace’s jaw tightened.

“Answer me.”

“Don’t worry… It didn’t go as far as you think.”

Shed gave a bitter, cynical smile, his lips twisting with self-loathing.

“Don’t worry? After what you did to Miss Liana…?”

At the sound of Liana’s name, Shed flinched again, unable to offer a single word in his own defense. The mouth that had devoured her lips was left speechless.

Eclace found even Shed’s silence repulsive.

“Let Miss Liana go.”

At Eclace’s cold warning, Shed’s eyes flashed dangerously as he lifted his gaze.

“Let her go?”

“Or are you planning to keep her with you? Even after this? Are you out of your mind?”

Even facing Shed’s murderous glare, Eclace didn’t blink. He wasn’t afraid of such irrational, brutish threats—what truly terrified him was the ruin that would follow.

“She’ll only bring you harm.”

Shed’s eyes trembled.

‘Liana, a harm to me? That can’t be. She’s… to me, she’s…’

He frowned, as if struggling to recall something just out of reach. What exactly was she to him?

“Send her away to Muenho, or anywhere she won’t be seen—deal with it, one way or another.”

“No. I can’t.”

“So when your next rut comes, are you going to go through this again? You want to keep seeing her after what you did to her? Are you even thinking straight?”

Eclace’s voice grew sharper with every word, but Shed only clenched his fists tighter. Nothing Eclace said was wrong—but somehow, he couldn’t agree.

“I’ll say it one more time. Send Miss Liana away. Before the tower you’ve built comes crashing down any further.”

Eclace stood his ground, refusing to budge.

Shed stared back at his stubbornness. For a moment, he couldn’t help but sense another motive behind Eclace’s so-called concern.

‘…This is strange.’

Until now, Eclace had never insisted or interfered so directly. Even when he wanted something, he’d always manipulated the situation, finding clever ways to get what he wanted rather than fighting openly.

But… something about Eclace was different tonight. Instead of keeping his usual clever composure, he seemed almost agitated—emotional.

“Why are you so desperate to send Liana away?”

Shed’s sharp question made Eclace’s red eyes flicker in displeasure. Seeing the ripples of emotion cross his face, Shed’s eyes narrowed.

“…Is it because of that wager?”

The bet the maids had gossiped about.

That day, Eclace had wagered Liana would run away before anything happened, while Shed had bet he’d get her into his bed first.

Shed had always thought that wager would remain unresolved—a perpetual stalemate. After all, Liana would never truly escape, and he himself had never seriously intended to sleep with her. At least, that’s what he’d believed…

“You really think this is all about a bet?”

Eclace’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Isn’t it? You stand to win a million della.”

To Shed’s knowledge, Eclace Vitel was someone who weighed and measured everything. Even when he seemed careless, every smile, every gesture, every decision, every act of kindness—it was all calculated. So even that distorted look on his face, Shed thought, must be another part of the act.

But the sly merchant snapped back in righteous anger, blaming Shed instead.

“You’re worried about some wager after what you did to Miss Liana?”

“You’re the one who should care about the wager, not me.”

He disliked the rebellious glint in Eclace’s eyes—so different from usual. There was something more dangerous than a simple scheme in that look, and the prickling sense of unease set off alarms in Shed’s instincts.

Then Eclace fell silent for a moment, before speaking again.

“…Fine. It’s because of the wager.”

He wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. Shed saw the calculating light flicker back to life in those red eyes.

It was as if Eclace had only just now remembered himself—his true role. His gaze changed completely, no longer troubled but sharp and focused.