TCCIO 21

Chapter 21. Commander’s Authority
Delia and the three wolves moved at the same time. Dodging the attacking wolves, she rolled toward her sword. Swiftly drawing the blade, she charged through the gap the wolves left as they lunged at her. Her back ached from hitting the ground, but she had no time to care. The blood blurring her vision—she couldn’t even tell if it was the wolves’ or her own. Her feet stung, but she didn’t even think to look. Nearly crawling, she made her way down the mountain. Her heart pounded as though it might burst, and she ran with every ounce of strength—yet was inevitably surrounded. There was no way a human could outrun wild predators.

The wolves closed in, tightening the noose. Delia, gasping for breath, was slowly driven into a corner.

“I won’t hold back anymore.”

Even cornered, Delia shouted with defiance. She gripped the sword with both hands, but her injured left arm was useless. Gritting her teeth, she clutched it firmly with her right.

“Come on.”

She swung the sword to block the pouncing wolf, then charged at the one directly in front of her. She leapt, stabbing forcefully at its neck. The blow was precise—the wolf collapsed instantly. The path ahead opened.

As she tried to rise and flee, a massive shadow loomed. A wolf from the left had lunged at her. No time to dodge. No time to pull out the sword lodged in the other wolf’s neck. The next thing she knew, she was pinned beneath its heavy paw. The beast’s claws dug into her trembling shoulder. A low growl and hot breath brushed her cheek. Its vicious fangs glittered in the moonlight.

What do I do? She couldn’t breathe. The remaining wolves slowly circled in. Was this the end?

Delia’s vision grew unfocused as despair clouded her gaze. As if preparing for the end, she looked up at the night sky—and saw meteors raining down from the black heavens.

“No…”

The whisper left her lips like a sigh, thick with despair. The blue of her tear-soaked eyes was painted with cruelly vivid crimson. The falling stars weren’t stars—they were torches, thrown by someone.

Light burst around the wolves as the torches landed, startling them. Bang! A loud gunshot rang out just as the wolves’ attention scattered. One of them collapsed on top of Delia, struck by a bullet.

“Ugh…”

Delia gasped beneath the fallen beast. Her chest was so compressed she couldn’t even scream. More gunshots followed. One by one, the wolves surrounding her fell. When the last one dropped, silence returned to the forest. The stench of gunpowder and blood was suffocating.

If hell existed, it must look like this.

Delia shut her eyes, drained and overwhelmed.

Clip-clop, clip-clop—calm hoofbeats cut through the silence and approached her. A horse stopped just beside her, and someone dismounted. She heard the crunch of footsteps in the grass.

She knew instinctively. It was him. The Supreme Commander, come to retrieve the escaped prisoner.

A heavy sigh escaped between Delia’s slightly parted lips. As if trying to avoid him, she crawled beneath the body of the dead wolf. But the corpse pinning her down was lifted away by someone. The warmth that had smothered her vanished, making her shiver. Delia squeezed her eyes shut and curled into herself.

He didn’t say a word. The suffocating silence made his gaze even more tangible. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his stare scorching her skin. Each place his eyes touched felt like it burned.

Unable to bear the silence, Delia finally spoke.

“I could’ve handled it.”

Even after nearly dying, she refused to submit easily. But he remained silent.

“I could’ve killed them all and escaped.”

Her voice was low and firm. As she avoided Aaron’s eyes, his large hand gently touched her cheek. The warm, solid pressure of his hand silenced her. Even her last shred of pride wilted.

“…I know.”

His hand, which had stroked her cheek, moved to smooth her shimmering golden hair in the moonlight. The heavy gesture felt like protection.

Even though he was the enemy who came to steal Eorenti.

“And I came… to capture you like this.”

His deep voice made Delia slowly open her eyes. The moment her gaze met his gray one, tears welled in her blue eyes. And then, they fell.

Aaron gently wiped the tears and cautiously gathered her into his arms. His broad shoulders and firm chest enveloped her, supporting her as if to keep her from falling apart.

Even though he was the enemy who came to take Eorenti.

“You should’ve let me die.”

Delia buried her face in his shoulder, her sorrowful sobs echoing through the quiet forest.

“I hate you… so much.”

Whether from relief that she survived, or despair that she was caught again—Delia herself no longer knew why she was crying.

As if the nighttime pursuit had been just a dream, warm sunlight now bathed the commander’s tent. The tranquility was ill-suited to a battlefield, and at its center lay the commander’s prisoner, deep in sleep.

Delia, sleeping as if dead, had sunlight breaking across her golden lashes. Aaron’s eyes remained fixed on her. She must have pushed herself too hard; she’d collapsed the moment they returned to camp. Even after her wounds were cleaned, she hadn’t woken—simply surrendering herself to Aaron and sleeping deeply.

Aaron, seated beside her, reached out slowly. He pulled the blanket down slightly and swept her scattered hair to the side. The traces of last night—scratches, bruises, scars—stood out starkly against her pale skin.

“A very determined prisoner.”

The military physician, there to treat her, clicked his tongue upon seeing her state. He opened his medical kit and began preparing disinfectants and bandages.

“Her arm?”

Aaron asked as the physician unwrapped the wound on her left arm.

“Fortunately, nothing serious.”

“That’s a relief.”

“But what’s the point? I patch one wound and she comes back with two.”

The doctor grumbled as he quickly examined the rest of her. After wrapping her arm, he took out a small medicine jar.

“At this rate, no matter how much I treat her, her body won’t last.”

But just as he was about to apply ointment to her minor wounds, Aaron stopped him. The physician looked up in surprise.

“…You want to do it yourself?”

The doctor asked, baffled. Aaron said nothing, simply holding out his hand. With a sigh, the physician handed over the ointment.

“Here.”

Aaron’s hand carefully traced the marks on Delia’s body—bruises on her back, red welts on her shoulders, blisters on her hands, and scratches on her limbs. He memorized each one. As his hand passed over them, Delia stirred in her sleep, her brows furrowing. Even through sleep, her pain reached him.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

Aaron asked softly.

“They’re mostly scrapes, but she’ll be sore for days.”

“Then find a way to ease the pain.”

“I… I would, but the painkillers are with the main camp. I only have basic first-aid supplies here.”

Aaron frowned and stared at the doctor. Under the silent rebuke, the physician shrugged.

“I didn’t expect we’d be stuck here this long. I thought we’d regroup with the main camp quickly and sent everything ahead.”

He scratched his head awkwardly and added,

“And I certainly didn’t think I’d be treating a prisoner this thoroughly.”

He was treating her under orders, but couldn’t understand the commander’s intentions. He glanced at Aaron and cautiously asked,

“Why are you taking such care of an escaped prisoner? According to military law, shouldn’t she be executed on the spot?”

He hesitated, gauging Aaron’s expression.

“That’s not for the medic to question. Decisions about prisoners are the commander’s authority.”

Aaron’s voice was cold. He looked down at the thin, wounded arm.

“Leave the medicine. You may go.”

The physician swallowed nervously at the change in Aaron’s tone. He had clearly overstepped. Aaron Bergen, the Empire’s only Grand Duke and second prince—on the surface, he seemed laid-back and easygoing. But once crossed, one immediately understood why the imperial crest of the Shuttileitz Empire was the silver wolf.

And he had no intention of ever crossing that line.

He swallowed hard and bowed.

“Yes, Commander. I’ll take my leave.”

Once he was gone, silence returned to the tent. Aaron slowly approached Delia and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled the blanket over her back and gently stroked her head. Her hair, as soft as fine silk, coiled around his fingers.

He never wanted to lose this sensation again.

No matter how she tried to escape, Delia was his prisoner. Branded with the mark of belonging to Aaron, sleeping in his domain.

A strange light flickered in Aaron’s eyes as he felt her warmth.

“Don’t touch me.”

A quiet voice echoed. Delia, thought to be asleep, had spoken. Her lashes trembled, and then her eyes opened.

“I said—don’t touch me.”

Her sharp voice rang through the tent, and Aaron’s stiff expression relaxed immediately.

Just like always—his prisoner, Delia—boldly ordered the enemy commander around.

Seeing her as she always was, the tension and worry of last night melted away. Aaron smiled faintly and slowly withdrew his hand.

“You’re awake? How do you feel? Is your arm okay?”

At his gentle question, Delia scowled.