"There are also ores, rare plant crystals, and celestial-grade materials. And here, contracts for multiple estates and castles on Central Planet. Plus, deeds for a few minor planets. All of them can be transferred to your name anytime you wish. Every piece of it was sent by our Wolf King himself." Roshivo's voice trembled with effort as he forced a smile. "Ms. Tibarn, please look them over. Do they meet your satisfaction?" He held his breath. With this much wealth laid out, how could anyone possibly refuse? Emma flipped through the massive stack of papers. The thing was thick enough to knock someone out cold. She wasn't impressed. Her gaze went back to the man lying in the coffin—Marcus, still pale and motionless. No one handed out a mountain of treasures for nothing. This wasn't generosity. It was damage control. And she had the sinking feeling that Marcus was the damage. She closed the file and handed it back. "We'll talk about the gifts later," she said flatly. "Right now, wake him up." She was already second-guessing the match. No one sent their heir away with this much compensation unless something was very, very wrong. Roshivo froze mid-breath. How could a young female like her resist this much temptation? Ten Level 11 beast cores! And more—ores, insect cores, estates, wealth beyond reason. Even the top lords of the Empire would have sold their souls for that list. Silas tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Grand Elder," he said, voice smooth as glass, "my huntress told you to wake your heir. Why are you still standing there?" He crossed his arms and smiled wider. "Or is it because he can't wake up?" Roshivo waved his hands, flustered. "No, no, he can wake up! Of course he can wake up! I'll wake him right now!" There was no going back. Marcus had to stay here. Even if he had to pry the man out himself, he wouldn't drag him home. He swallowed hard, leaned over the coffin, and gave Marcus a nervous push. "Prince Marcus, please wake up. Your huntress is here." He gave a weak chuckle. "She's watching you right now." Another shake. "If you don't wake up soon, she'll think you don't want her anymore." Nothing."Marcus? Come on now, wake up." Still no movement. Every eye in the room was on him, especially Emma's. The silence stretched until she leaned closer to Lucien and whispered, "Is he seriously injured? Like… a vegetable or something?" She knew he wasn't dead. Silas had already told her he was breathing—barely. Lucien's voice dropped low. "Whatever his condition is, if he doesn't wake up and you don't like him, we'll call off the match. "Frostveil probably knows what's wrong. That's why they're trying to buy you off." If Marcus turned out fine, Lucien figured he might as well keep him. A Rank 11 male could handle all the messy work no one else wanted. But if he stayed unconscious—or if Emma decided she didn't want him—then that was the end of it.Emma nodded slowly. "Got it." Roshivo, on the other hand, was falling apart. He'd been calling Marcus for ages, and the man still didn't move. Finally, Roshivo looked around, gritted his teeth, and gave Marcus' arm a hard pinch. Pain shot through him like fire, making his whole face twist. Marcus had that cursed ability—every bit of pain one gave him came back twice as hard. Everyone in Frostveil knew it. Mostly because they'd all suffered through it at least once. Nobody outside their territory had any clue. Well, except for Drake. That dragon had fought Marcus once. He hadn't forgotten it since. Roshivo's eyes watered, but he pinched again anyway. Then again.The pain seared down his arm, but Marcus' brow twitched. Roshivo brightened instantly. Ignoring the agony, he jabbed again. It hurt so bad he wanted to scream, but at least Marcus' long lashes began to flutter. Someone was touching him. Why not just finish the job and kill him already? "Prince Marcus! Wake up!" Roshivo's voice cracked in panic. "You can't keep sleeping!" Marcus' eyes cracked open. He gave Roshivo a single, blank stare. Then, his eyelids started to fall again. "Prince Marcus, no! Stay awake!" Roshivo panicked and shoved his fingers under Marcus' eyes, forcing them open. "Open your eyes! If you fall asleep again, your huntress will dump you!" That got a twitch. Marcus froze, his sluggish mind finally starting to wake. He blinked a few times, confusion flickering in his half-dead gaze as he scanned the room. His voice was weak, almost broken. "Where the hell did you take me?" He sounded like a man who'd crawled out of his own grave. "And what huntress?" His tone turned sharp. "Go ahead and kill me if you're messing with me." At least he was conscious now. Roshivo exhaled in relief and quickly pulled his hands back. He forced a nervous smile. "Your match, my prince. The Beast God paired you with a huntress. Check your lightcore. The match came through last month."