Storm clouds swallow the sky, thunder groaning like a warning left unanswered. Rain lashes the windows, casting jittery streaks of shadow across the hotel walls. The city outside has gone quiet, as if the storm demands a moment of mourning—for the beast that fell, and the innocence lost with it.

  Markus barely notices the lightning. His eyes stay fixed on Liddle, watching the shallow, pained rise and fall of her chest.

  She jolts awake. Pain rips through her like a crack of thunder, forcing her back down with a sharp gasp.

  “Easy, Liddle. You’re safe now,” Markus says gently, rising from the hotel chair and kneeling beside her. “Don’t push yourself.”

  She glances around without lifting her head. “Where is everyone? Is it just you here?”

  Markus nods. “Alexia went out with the others to celebrate the win. They’re grabbing dinner.”

  Liddle shifts, trying to sit up again, but winces. “And… you didn’t go with them?”

  He gives a small smile. “You were hurt. Of course I stayed. I had to be here.”

  “Sorry,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know I’ve been a burden.”

  You’re not a burden,” Markus says, his voice steady. “Your ice magic was necessary—we couldn’t have done it without you. And… Alexia would’ve had more mana if I hadn’t gotten hurt first.”

  Liddle exhales softly. “I’m sure you wanted to party with the others.”

  Markus shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with my girlfriend.”

  Liddle turns her head toward him, a faint blush warming her cheeks—barely visible in the storm-lit dark.

  “I want to hug you… but my body hurts so much.”

  “Then don’t push yourself. I can wait,” Markus says, his smile gentle. “We’ll have all the time in the world once Alexia’s back and you’re feeling better. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He stands and turns on the coffee maker, the quiet hum filling the room as water begins to heat for tea. While the black tea steeps, Markus stirs in a bit of sugar, then carries the cup to the nightstand.

  “When you’re able, drink this,” he says, setting it down gently beside the bed.

  “Hey… while we’re alone,” Markus says softly, “there’s something I’ve always wondered. What made you come to Earth?”

  He pauses, lowering his voice. “Only if you’re okay talking about it. You don’t have to push yourself.”

  “Small demons are seen as mistakes,” Liddle says quietly. “And my parents made sure I knew that. They always loved my brother more — made sure I knew that too. Then one day, I hit the age where they could legally send me to Earth… so they did. That way, they didn’t have to deal with the shame of me just… existing.”

  Markus’s jaw tightens. He looks down, gripping the edge of the nightstand to steady himself.

  “So they threw you away,” he says, his voice calm but tight, like he’s holding something back. “Like you didn’t matter.”

  Liddle doesn’t answer. She just stares down, her eyes shimmering with the kind of sadness that never really leaves.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Markus’s gaze drops. His voice is low. “My parents are dead. Buried six feet under. And yours… yours are still alive. That’s not fair.” He swallows the frustration building in his chest.

  “But it’s their loss. They never got to know the real you.”

  Liddle reaches for the teacup, her fingers trembling as she tries to lift it — but the effort makes her wince. The cup wobbles, and she barely gets it off the nightstand before her hand gives out.

  Without a word, Markus steps in. He steadies her hand with his own, then carefully lifts the cup to her lips.

  “Here,” he says gently. “Nice and slow.”

  As she sips the tea, something heavy stirs in Markus’s chest — a thought he hasn’t said out loud yet, one that’s been gnawing at the back of his mind since the battle.

  “Should I feel bad? About that creature?” he asks quietly. “Lemres says we did the right thing — and looking at you, maybe he’s right. He has to be… right?”

  “Um… what now?” Liddle asks softly, setting her teacup back on the table beside her.

  Markus sits back, his eyes weighed down with something distant. “Sorry. The Morgi Ox really did a number on you. If Alexia hadn’t been there to heal you…” He draws in a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. The thoughts keep spiraling.

  “I’m supposed to be the one keeping you and Alexia safe. That’s what I’m supposed to do. But that thing — it was twenty feet tall. Five tons of muscle and fury. What was I supposed to do against that? I’d have better luck stopping a speeding car with my hands.”

  His jaw tightens, voice dropping.

  “I’ve been working out. Training. Doing everything I can. But against that? There’s just no way. I’m just… a man. There’s no way…”

  Liddle reaches for his hand, her fingers brushing against his knuckles with trembling effort. “You’re shaking,” she whispers, her eyes meeting his. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

  She gives him a small, tired smile — the kind that says I’ve been there too.

  “It’s okay to be scared.”

  Markus leans forward at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. His eyes stay fixed on the floor.

  “That was just an ox,” he mutters. “And it nearly killed us.”

  He swallows hard.

  “If that was the easy fight… what’s the dragon going to be like?”

  Liddle’s gaze softens. “You’re thinking like you’ll be doing this alone… but you won’t.”

  Her lips curl into the faintest smile.

  “We’ll face the dragon as a team,” Liddle says. “Just like we always do.”

  She winces as she shifts but pushes through it.

  “I know you hate seeing me like this… but I’m used to pain like this.”

  Her eyes meet his.

  “The pain… I’m used to that part.” Her voice wavers just slightly.

  “But you worrying about me? That’s new. And that kind of pain… I’m not used to it.”

  “You’re the one who’s hurt — you should be the one resting,” Markus says, shaking his head. “Sorry. Now’s not the time for me to be unloading my problems.”

  “It’s your fight too,” Liddle says gently. “And I can’t exactly tell you to rest when I’m the one who got launched by a twenty-foot ox.”

  Markus smiles, faint but full of feeling. “Don’t think of it like that,” he says softly. “I love you. I just want to see you get better.”

  Liddle’s eyes glisten, but her smile stays warm. “Exactly.”

  She reaches out, her hand trembling slightly, brushing her fingers against his. Markus takes her hand gently, threading his fingers through hers, careful not to squeeze too hard.

  “Thank you for being here with me,” she says quietly. “For a long time, I didn’t know where I belonged. Hehl didn’t want me… and when I came here, it felt even worse.” She pauses, her voice trembling. “But now I know. I belong with you.”

  She curls her fingers a little tighter around his.

  “Even if it hurts to see you worry about me… it means I matter. That’s still new to me,” she whispers. “It’s something I would never give up.”

  “There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” Markus says, his hand tightening around hers.

  As the storm murmurs against the glass and Liddle’s fingers rest gently in his, Markus stares into the dark beyond the hotel room.

  The Morgi Dragon is still out there — stronger, fiercer, unimaginable.

  But so is this moment.

  So is she.

  So are the people who believe in him.

  And maybe… that would be enough.