My Pet Fox Is Actually A Demon Prince-Chapter 22: Happy Knee, Happy Kyva

Throughout their journey in the forest together, leading up to this point, Calhoun couldn’t help but feel that his personal view regarding humankind had begun to soften, much to his surprise.

In those bewitching eyes of hers, he always caught glimpses of quiet grief, of burdens and sorrows she had chosen to endure in silence. Yet for all the weight she carried, the fugitive human pressed onward still.

Even when a group of men, no better than hyenas in human skin, were hunting her through the wild as though she were some cornered animal, she had not surrendered to despair.

Yes, she wept.

But she never stopped moving.

There was something in that which Calhoun had begrudgingly come to admire about the troublesome human.

At first glance she appeared fragile, soft-spoken, slight of frame and wholly unsuited for the harshness of the world that pursued her. He basically pitied her. But beneath that delicate exterior lay a stubborn resilience, a quiet strength that refused to break no matter how fiercely fate pressed against her.

It was not the loud, boastful kind of strength he had known among warriors. But strength nonetheless.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Slowly, his hand drifted from her cheek, lingering only for a moment before gliding downward to the collar of her shirt. With careful fingers, he pulled the fabric slightly aside, revealing the mark seared harshly upon her skin.

The brand was crude and unsightly, its dark lines marring the smoothness of her shoulder like a blemish carelessly carved into something far too delicate. He recalled one of the hunters referring to the human girl as a slave. And if that were true, what he was seeing wasn’t just a scar, but a mark of ownership.

Earlier she had touched it again and again, whether by habit or by memory. But the gesture had not escaped his notice.

Perhaps she had been subjected to long cruelty and in the end, murdered someone to escape.

He’ll count on his speculation and uncover what he can about the human.

For now, he was back in the beastly realm, though still far from his home.

He wondered if news about his escape had already crossed into this side of the realm. Yet there was no certain way to learn the truth unless he planted a spy among them.

The notion vexed him greatly.

The last thing he wanted was to be discovered. Thankfully, he had long mastered the art of veiling his aura when in the presence of other beasts. He could dampen the weight of his presence until it resembled that of a mere spirit animal. It was likely for this very reason that none among those gathered had cast a suspicious glance his way.

Still, a restless curiosity lingered within him. He was clueless as to what was happening within his clan, their schemes and whatever they had formed to snap him down. Knowing his father pretty well, the old man would probably be planning to give the throne to someone else.

’I should probably worry about that later,’ he thought. ’First I need to find a way to entangle myself from this woman’s grasp.’

He cast his gaze upon the sleeping human draped against him.

With deliberate care, Calhoun slowly reached for the hand that found its way about his waist, attempting to pry her fingers loose. But the effort proved more troublesome than he had expected. Even in sleep, she clung stubbornly, her grip tightening faintly as though some instinct urged her not to let go.

As if that were not enough, the little nuisance had placed her hand upon his chest, her fingers curled lightly against him while she nestled closer, seeking the warmth of his body.

Calhoun clicked his tongue.

It had been a long while since he had last shared such close quarters with a woman— long enough that the memories had grown faint and distant. Yet this small human, utterly unaware in her slumbers, seemed determined to test the boundaries of his restraint. Her breath stirred softly against him, and his jaw tightened imperceptibly.

’Too close.’

He tried again to ease her hand away, only for her to shift in her sleep, pressing nearer rather than retreating, her hold on him unconsciously tightening.

Calhoun froze on instinct.

In the dim hush of the room, his eyes caught what little light there was, glinting faintly like a predator’s in the dark. But he made no further attempts to move her.

The warmth of her body pressed against his own was... distracting.

Far more than it ought to be.

Her frame was small against his, soft where his was hardened by years of battle and relentless training. Even through the cloth between them, he could feel the gentle heat of her, the slow rise and fall of her breath beneath the hand she had so brazenly laid upon his chest.

It was doing unpleasant things to his reason.

Moments ago he had intended to slip away, to trail the other beasts that roamed this place and glean what whispers he could of his clan’s movements.

Yet now–

Now he found himself absurdly tempted to remain where he was.

To simply stay.

The thought struck him so sharply that he cut it short before it could take root.

What in the nine hells had possessed him?

She was human, for goodness’s sake.

A human.

A very pretty, infuriatingly naïve one at that.

Calhoun exhaled quietly through his nose and shook his head once, as if to drive the foolish thought away.

"Focus, Calhoun," he muttered under his breath.

Truly, this was nothing more than the consequences of his own stubborn choices.

For years— far too many to count— he had kept himself well away from the company of women, devoting his time to the battlefields and gaining access to the throne. Flesh and warmth had been luxuries he had long ago denied himself, as he refused to be distracted by worldly pleasures.

And now?

Now the mere presence of a sleeping woman draped over him was enough to throw his senses into disarray.

So this, he concluded, was the price of such prolonged abstinence.

The two other earthlings within the chamber had not stirred either. Taking the stillness as an opportunity, he at last, freed himself from her grasp.

He rose to his full height, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders before casting one last glance downward at her sleeping form.

His gaze instinctively fell upon her bandaged knee. He recalled how worried she sounded, considering she had another trial to partake in at dawn.

Releasing another quiet exhale, Calhoun crouched beside her. One hand settled lightly on the bandaged knee, as he was careful not to disturb the wrappings.

In an instant, a faint gold radiance stirred beneath his palm.

The glow was soft and fleeting, seeping gently through the cloth like the first light of dawn. As he watched, the tight lines of discomfort upon her sleeping face gradually eased, her brows smoothing as the pain was being quietly drawn away.

Calhoun withdrew his hand, and the light vanished as quickly as it had come.

Without another word, he rose once more to his full height, the shadows of the chamber swallowing his figure as he turned and slipped silently through the door. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The sound was enough to stir Selene from her slumbers. She blinked her sleepy eyes open just in time to see a shadow slip out of the room, but, overpowered by sleep, she drifted off.

The next morning, the blaring call of a horn shattered the quiet of the settlement, rousing the sleeping candidates from their rest.

Kyva’s eyes flew open at once.

Across the room, Liora groaned and buried her face deeper into her bedding, while Selene was already sitting up, rubbing the lingering sleep from her eyes.

Was it time already?

"Why are they starting the test so early?" Liora muttered as she forced herself up. "The sun isn’t even out yet."

"I believe our seniors are here," Selene replied, already dreading their presence. "We must prepare and join the others. It’s best if we leave a good impression on them by showing up early. Come. You as well, Kyva."

Kyva nodded immediately and swung her legs effortlessly over the side of the bed. But the moment her feet touched the floor, she froze in place.

Sensing something was clearly wrong somewhere, her gaze dropped to her bandaged knee. She bent it slightly, testing it for any pain, but there was none. A subtle frown settled on her face, and she lifted her up and stretched it forward. She expected the familiar sting that had plagued her for days.

But nothing.

Not even the faintest twinge.

Confusion flickered next, and without hesitation, she began unwinding the bandage from around her knee.

The cloth fell away, and she could hardly believe her eyes.

The wound was gone.

It wasn’t merely improved, but completely healed, leaving behind only smooth, unbroken skin as though the injury had never been there at all. More than that, her body felt strangely light, refreshed in a way she could scarcely recall feeling before.

What kind of miracle was this?

To convince herself she wasn’t dreaming, she stood up, stomping the same injured leg on the floor. Then, overcome with excitement, she cried out–

"My knee—! Bless the heavens... My knee works again!"