Third person's POV
"It's fine if it was on purpose," Derek said with a grin. "I don't mind."
Tabitha waved her hand in front of his face, and only when he showed no reaction did she relax.
Derek felt his vision had improved slightly from the night before.
While he still couldn't see clearly, the fact that his sight was returning was a good sign.
"You can rest for a bit. It's morning now—no danger, no snakes," Tabitha said.
"Tabitha, I'm hungry," Derek remarked.
Tabitha rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll make you breakfast."
Derek had never been pampered as a child, but now, in his older years, he got to experience a taste of it.
Yet Tabitha seemed to forget that being pampered meant someone had to do the caring.
The land here had once been barren, but since Tabitha's arrival, she taught everyone agricultural and livestock-raising techniques, making resources abundant.
Derek had been on a liquid diet for the past few days, but now he could eat normally again, so it was natural that he felt hungry.
Tabitha grabbed a handful of oats and mixed them with milk, ground fresh corn into juice, and sliced some homemade salad.
These were all foods Derek rarely had access to, preserving their natural flavors.
"Your cooking's gotten even better," Derek commented.
"Shut up and eat," Tabitha retorted.
Derek obliged with a simple, "Okay."
Though Tabitha had disclosed her identity, her attitude toward Derek remained cold. Beyond meeting his basic needs, she refused to engage in any meaningful conversation, let alone reminisce about the past.
As days passed without any progress in their relationship, Derek grew anxious.
His detoxification was nearly complete, and Tabitha had made it clear that eye treatment wasn't her forte—he'd need to go to a major hospital for a scan to determine the extent of the damage and receive proper treatment.
In other words, Tabitha had essentially given him an eviction notice.
Derek contemplated finding a pretext to stay.
"How about you stab me in the leg? If I'm injured, she can't kick me out," he mused, twirling a small knife in his hand.
He didn't tell Tabitha that his eyesight had improved significantly over the past few days. While he still couldn't see clearly from afar, his nearsightedness had recovered to the point where he could see things up close.
Spike facepalmed. "Alpha Derek, that's too obvious," he said.
"You're right," Derek replied, stroking his regrown stubble.
"How about I jump from the second floor? You can say I fell in my sleep due to nightmares," Derek suggested.
"This plan's feasible, but it's too risky. What if you really get crippled? You'll have no one to blame but yourself," Spike countered.
"There's no other way unless I get poisoned again!"
As they spoke, Derek heard footsteps on the stairs. He immediately lay down, feigning illness, and shot Spike a warning glance. "Don't slip up. Stay sharp," he hissed.
The door creaked open, and Tabitha entered, carrying medicine.
Seeing Derek looking pale, she asked, "What's wrong with him?"
Spike, avoiding Derek's gaze to prevent giving away their ruse, repeated Derek's rehearsed excuse, "He hasn't been sleeping well these past few days. Every time he closes his eyes, he relives that night. His poor rest is slowing down his recovery."
Tabitha frowned. To keep her distance from Derek, she'd limited their contact to delivering medicine.
"Still not sleeping at night?" she asked, noting the heavy dark circles under his eyes.
Derek's insomnia, fueled by thoughts of her, had been keeping him up, hence the pronounced bags under his eyes.
Derek nodded weakly. "Yes, every time I close my eyes, those memories flood back. But don't worry, Tabitha. It's not a big deal if I don't sleep," he said with a forced cough.
"This won't do. Drink your medicine first, and I'll figure something out," Tabitha said.
Derek's insomnia was clearly psychosomatic. Going without sleep for days on end wasn't an option.
After taking his medicine, Derek considered whether he should deliberately catch a cold that night.
But the climate here was consistently warm, even at night, with temperatures rarely dropping below the teens. Getting sick on purpose would be no easy feat.
In the afternoon, Tabitha brought him to her room.
It was the first time Derek had been inside.
The room carried a faint herbal scent.
Not having heard the chime of bells for days, Derek asked impulsively, "Where's Hedwig?"
Tabitha usually avoided mentioning Hedwig in his presence. The day after revealing her identity, she'd arranged for Hedwig to be temporarily taken away.
It wasn't paranoia—Derek had a cunning mind. He had once tried to force Tabitha into an abortion when he thought she was carrying someone else's child. If he discovered Hedwig was not his biological child, would he pose a threat?
Tabitha couldn't risk it.
For Hedwig's safety, she'd kept her away from Derek.
"None of your business," Tabitha said coldly, steering clear of the topic. She guided him to the bedside and had him lie down.