They were all absolutely certain.

Tomorrow, she must be firmly tethered to them.

Not just her body, but her heart as well. On the tip of her heart, there can only be two names, and no third.

Selene sat by the window, her chest feeling like a stone was pressing down, leaving her breathless.

A nameless fire burned within her, yet she couldn’t find an outlet, forcing herself to endure, eroding her patience bit by bit.

If the past wasn’t so clearly etched in her memory, she would almost doubt.

Whether she was born with this temper, easily flaring up.

She used to be so afraid, afraid she would turn into that woman she once was.

Once her emotions surged, she couldn’t control them, her words would curse, her hand would slap.

So she kept enduring.

No matter how troubled or irritable she felt, she dared not easily lash out.

She feared one day losing control, hurting these people before her, and utterly destroying herself.

Resting on her fingertips was Heath, pitifully frail, with drooping wings.

Occasionally, he lazily flapped them, not even having the energy to flutter.

Yet looking at him made her inexplicably irritated.

His weak appearance made her want to shake him off with a flick.

Evan and Ethan stood not far away, eagerly watching her, their eyes glistening.

They wished so much that she would look up and glance at them.

Even if she just gently extended her hand, stroked their heads, and said, "It’s all right."

But she didn’t even want to look, her gaze coldly swept past them.

Alza was different.

He never spoke much, never fought or vied.

If she wanted to eat, he’d surely place steaming food by her side, the temperature just right.

If she wanted to be alone and daze out, he’d sit nearby, not disturbing or speaking, just letting his presence tell her, I’m here.

Thinking of Zane, her lips turned downward, a hint of loss flashing in her eyes.

Zane was still not very good with things on Earth.

He stumbled over using the phone, and the messages he sent were pathetically few.

Out of ten sentences, eight were relayed through Caleb.

Later, Caleb suddenly became extremely busy.

When she asked Zane, he’d just blandly reply, "Haven’t seen him."

"Not sure of his current situation."

Just that sentence, and nothing more.

For several months, she hadn’t seen Zane, not even a private message.

The feeling of being forgotten was uncomfortable.

The others were ties left by the original master.

Zane alone stayed because of her after she crossed over.

He could have left, returned to his tribe, but he chose to stay.

She always kept this sincerity in her heart.

But now, he seemed to have vanished.

"I’m tired."

After speaking, she slowly stood up, turned and walked toward the room.

No one dared to stop her, and no one dared to follow.

The three silently watched her leave.

In their hearts, unspeakable emotions churned.

Her fingers relaxed, and the spiritual power entwined at her fingertips suddenly dissipated.

Heath was flung out, landing heavily on the soft carpet behind her.

He awkwardly turned over, his body twitching slightly, then reverted to human form, his hair disheveled over his forehead.

He could barely stand, his knees trembling, he had to hurriedly brace against the sofa’s edge.

He’d always been weak, frail from childhood, frequently ill, always needing medicine.

This sudden impact not only shook his meridians but left his heart feeling empty, as if a piece of him had been gouged out.

Evan and Ethan sat on single sofas to her left and right, their expressions varied, but their eyes were fixed on her.

"Female Master..."

Heath felt as if his heart was being tightly gripped.

He suddenly stepped forward, pulling her into his embrace from behind.

No matter how fiercely Evan and Ethan glared, he remained unmoved.

He gently adjusted her to the most comfortable position, lightly resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Female Master, you stayed up all night yesterday, your soul power greatly depleted. You’re not allowed to go anywhere today, just close your eyes and sleep well."

Ethan stood up with a swish, his movements intense.

His lips trembled uncontrollably.

"Heath, what do you mean by this? Do you think you can openly hold her like this now?"

"Are you trying to take her too?"

He almost shouted, his voice hoarse.

"Weren’t you the first to keep your distance? And now, you stick to her when she’s at her weakest!"

Evan sneered, leaning against the sofa armrest with a mocking curve on his lips.

"Weren’t you the one avoiding her so much that you were nowhere in sight? Afraid to be associated, afraid your family would be implicated, and ruin your future. Now, pretending to be so devoted? What a calculation."

Heath didn’t retreat a step, standing firm, his spine straight.

"I never said I’d leave. From start to finish, I’ve been by her side. Unlike you, constantly hoping she’d leave you, eagerly wanting to escape, afraid of responsibility, of trouble landing on you."

"Now that she doesn’t chase you away, you come crawling back, crying and shouting for reconciliation. Do you really think she’ll forgive you forever because she’s soft-hearted? Do you really think you can trample on her heart like before?"

The room fell deathly silent.

Even the bird song outside was suppressed.

Only the sounds of their heavy breathing intermingled, like an undercurrent surging.

The three males, defiant of one another, their eyes clashed fiercely in the air.

Heath lacked strength compared to others, his cultivation was lesser than Evan, and his momentum was inferior to Ethan.

But his heart was already tightly bound with the warmth from her fingertips that night.

That night, she lay weakly in his arms, her hair disheveled, breath faint, yet still used her last bit of strength to gently stroke his hand.

"Don’t go... Heath, don’t leave me." That night, she...

Compared to Evan and Ethan, who only felt regret after being chased away.

He believed the Female Master surely preferred him.

Even if just a moment’s reliance, he’d owned a degree of reality more than they had.

In his lifetime, no one truly chose him.

His mother treated him coldly, disliking his lack of talent.

His father was indifferent and distant, never caring about his survival.

Even his younger brother looked down on him, saying behind his back, "He’s a waste, unworthy of the family name."

But now, he’d placed all his hopes on Selene.

He no longer hid, laying bare the deep-seated possessiveness long buried in his heart.

She loved him, he knew.

She was waiting for him, he also knew.

He was willing to accept her now.

This time, he was no longer the passive shadow waiting.

But the one actively stepping toward her.

Selene couldn’t care less about their internal strife.

As long as they didn’t touch her, they could fight however they wanted.

Be it sarcastic remarks or secret rivalries, wasn’t it all to win her favor?

She only cared about one thing.

Whoever touched her interests, she’d make them regret it.

"Put me down."

She didn’t embrace him, speaking coolly like a glass of plain water.

Heath’s heart sank suddenly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He had clearly convinced himself to follow her for the rest of his life.

Even if just silently guarding, even if from afar, he’d be content.

But how could she be so cold?

So distant?