Why is Marcus here? Emma froze, staring at him as he stood in nothing but shorts. Her gaze darted to Silas, whose arm was still around her waist. Her brain momentarily froze before quickly restarting. "Marcus, what are you doing in my bed?" Her voice shot through the room like a whip. Before he could respond, she threw the blanket away, raised her leg, and kicked him off the bed. "Emma, wait!" Silas called out, jumping awake too late to stop her. A loud thud echoed across the room. "Ah—d*mn, that hurts!" Emma yelped, clutching her backside as Marcus rolled on the floor before sitting up and groaning. Her brows knit together. Hold on... I kicked him, and he fell on his backside. Why does my own rear feel like it just exploded? "Emma, are you hurt?" Silas leaned forward, eyes filled with concern, reaching out to check her. She pushed his hand away sharply. Marcus appeared just as alarmed, watching her with guilt creeping over his face. He understood perfectly how his ability functioned and how severely that kick must have rebounded on her. Emma pulled the blanket tightly around herself, shielding herself like a fortress. One hand held her aching butt, her expression caught between pain and humiliation. "What the hell is going on?" Silas exhaled in frustration and clarified, "Marcus possesses an ability that reflects any injury back onto the attacker—stronger." Emma's eyes widened. Is there really such an ability? Her gaze snapped toward Marcus. I never told anyone. How did he manage to figure it out? He blinked in confusion. "How do you even know that?" Silas ignored him, his gaze fixed on Emma. "Are you sure you're alright? Let me check." Though Emma's kick wouldn't have done much damage to a male, being female meant the rebound hit her twice as hard. Marcus nodded quickly, feeling anxious. "Ms. Tibarn, my ability rebounds damage with extra force. You should let him check."Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs. Lucien and Edric burst into the room. "Emma, what happened?" Lucien's gaze swept across the chaos—Emma wrapped in a blanket, Marcus half-naked on the floor, Silas crouched by the bed—and his expression grew tense. Edric furrowed his brow. "Marcus, what the hell are you doing here?" He wondered, When did he wake up?The lake outside remains frozen solid. Can't he just chill for five minutes? Emma stayed quiet, holding her blanket like a shield. Silas rubbed his temples as the headache began to form, then summarized the disaster in a single breath. When they realized Emma was hurt, all three males immediately looked at her, their concern flashing like a synchronized lightning bolt. Lucien stepped closer. "Emma, let me check. You might've pulled something." Edric edged Marcus aside. "Does it hurt badly? Where exactly?"Silas leaned forward again. "Emma, at least let me make sure it's not serious." Four pairs of eyes fixed on her, all worry and intensity. Emma's mouth twitched. Great. Four males are staring at me like I'm some kind of science exhibit. Should I just drop my pants and die right here? Sure, I can deal with having multiple mates—but not like this. I still have some pride left. Pain? Fine. I can grit through that. Public embarrassment? Absolutely not. "I'm fine," she snapped. "Totally fine." When the words left her mouth, Marcus' face brightened with absurd hope. "Ms. Tibarn," he started, "since you're fine... can we bond now? I think today's a good day for it." His voice brimmed with misplaced enthusiasm, his expression dead serious. He'd actually convinced himself it made sense—after all, his strength and focus felt steadier after a night's rest. Lucien, Edric, and Silas turned toward him in perfect sync. The air grew noticeably colder. One thought ran through all their minds—None of us have bonded with Emma yet, and this guy—who just woke up—thinks he can skip the line? If not for that cursed reflection ability of his, Lucien would've launched him straight out the nearest window. Emma stared at him, disbelief mixing with exhaustion. This guy's brain really froze with him, huh? She met his bright, clueless eyes and exhaled. "Go bond your uncle or something." Uncle? Marcus blinked, completely serious. "Ms. Tibarn, that might be difficult. My grandpa only had my father—I don't have any uncles." He paused, thinking. "But I do have an older brother. Would you prefer him instead?" Emma hid her face, torn between laughter and disbelief. I can't. I actually can't with this male. "Lucien," she muttered, "get him out of here. Call Frostveil's Grand Elder and tell them we're sending the package back—with the gift attached. I want a full return." If heaven ever offered free gifts, Marcus was the kind that came with hidden fees and a lifetime warranty of regret. Lucien quickly grasped Marcus' arm and pulled him out of the room, then unceremoniously dropped him onto the living room couch. Marcus sank down like a bewildered ghost, arms hanging loosely and eyes vacant. "Ms. Tibarn," he muttered to himself, voice barely above a whisper, "does she really want to bond with my uncle?" He frowned, lost in thought. Would my older brother really be off the table? I don't even have an uncle. Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh dragging out of him.