Chapter 199: Ah, young love.

Meanwhile, slightly away inside the living room, a completely different battle was taking place; the battle of a fussy wife and hardheaded husband!

"Sit. Still." Zyra’s voice was laced with pure, stubborn authority. She dragged a wooden stool over and practically shoved Hunter down onto it.

"Zyra, seriously, I’m fine," Hunter groaned, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and trying to push her back with another. "It’s just a scratch. The healing serum already stopped the bleeding. I have had worse injuries. Back in my first days in the Pit, a steel head jaguar almost ripped out my spine. It curved into my back with a single swipe of its paw. There was blood everywhere, it was nuts. This here is like a love tap."

"I said, sit, Mr. love tap!" Zyra barked sharply, glaring at him while pulling a small jade jar of herbal ointment from the first aid kit. She was far too stubborn to take ’no’ for an answer, and Hunter knew better than to push his luck when she had that angry spark in her eyes.

Hunter groaned. "I don’t like this side of you." He muttered. "Now, if we were in bed."

She smacked him on the head, and he screamed in a way he had not done when he was stabbed by Duncan!

"Zyra Scorpion, are you trying to murder your husband?" He whined. "You didn’t mention domestic violence in your vows. You can only hit me when I am in pink fluffy cuffs." He grinned smugly.

She uncapped the jar and aggressively slapped a dab of cream onto his bare upper arm, making him wince.

"Ow! Are you healing me or punishing me?" He cried out.

"Both," she snapped, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the deep, angry red slice across his shoulder. "It’s what happens when you try to be a smart ass. Why weren’t you wearing your armor today? Were you trying to get yourself killed?! Do you know how much I spent on it?"

Hunter tilted his head back, a light smirk playing on his lips despite the pain. He was the one that paid for the armor! But hey, his money was her money. "Zyra, relax. I’ve fought dangerous, high rank feral beasts in the pits for years without wearing armor. I know how to dodge."

Zyra arched a sharp eyebrow, her lips pressing into a fine line. "Okay, so what happened, tough guy? Because unless my eyes were playing tricks on me, those were just amateur bandits. They were trash-tier fighters Only difference was there were a lot of them."

Hunter let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes softening as he looked up at her. "They were trash."

"Then why did you take a blade to the stomach?" she demanded.

"Because," Hunter murmured, his tone dropping into something far quieter, "you called my name."

Zyra blinked. The angry tirade stuck right in her throat. "What?"

"The moment you appeared in the midst of the fight, my attention split," Hunter said simply, looking right into her eyes. "Before you got there, it was just target practice. But once you were in the middle of it_ I wasn’t fighting anymore. I was worrying about you." He flicked her forehead. "Next time, stay home and let your husband do the dirty work of killing earth’s scum."

Zyra let out a soft sigh, the tension suddenly draining out of her shoulders. Her chest felt strangely heavy. She got it now. He didn’t get stabbed because he was careless; he got hit because he was watching her back instead of his own.

Hunter reached up, his large, warm hand touching the top of her shoulders. "Thank you for coming to my rescue," he said softly, his voice lacking any of his usual playful arrogance. "You were amazing out there. But next time_ let me handle the fight. At least until I don’t have to worry about whether someone’s sneaking up behind you."

Zyra lowered her gaze, staring down at the red mark left behind, as the wound was closed. She traced the edge of the knife wound gently with her thumb, feeling the faint tremor in his muscle. Her heart twinged with guilt. She was beating herself up for being a distraction, for making a veteran fighter like him take a blow he never should have suffered.

Hunter saw the shadow fall over her face. He knew that look_ she was going to overthink this for the next days. Without a word of warning, he reached out and took her hands in his.

Zyra stiffened for a fraction of a second, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes locked. The bustling noise of the valley_ Yanxi shouting, kids laughing, Malia giving orders_ seemed to fade away into quiet background noise.

She didn’t push him away. She didn’t crack a joke.

Zyra just looked into his eyes saying absolutely nothing at all.

"Beauty scan him for internal injuries."

[Scanning.... no injuries detected, just a fast-beating heart.]

Nanny Rosita entered the living room abruptly, shattering the intense staring competition into a thousand awkward pieces with a cackle.

Zyra blinked rapidly, snapping back to reality as if she’d just been splashed with cold mountain water. Hunter, ever the stone-faced stoic, simply straightened his collar, though his eyes twitched ever so slightly.

"Oh! My goodness, forgive me!" Nanny Rosita clapped her hands over her eyes, though her fingers were suspiciously spread wide enough to peek through. A knowing, overly bright grin plastered across her face. "I didn’t mean to interfere with the heroic lovebirds! Young love, ah, so passionate even in the middle of the day!"

Zyra’s cheeks instantly flushed a vibrant shade of crimson. "We_ we were not_! Nanny, no! I was just checking his wounds!" she stammered, pointing frantically at Hunter’s chest. "Purely medicinal! Strictly professional!"

Hunter didn’t say a word. He just stood there like a tall, silent wall, leaving Zyra to drown in her own explanations.

"Right, medicinal," Nanny Rosita teased, nodding along with a wink that practically screamed I don’t believe you for a second. "It is okay sweetheart; you are a young couple you are free to show affection to one another."

Zyra cleared her throat loudly, trying desperately to salvage her remaining dignity. "Ahem. Moving on! How is the little girl?"

"Oh, the sweet tiny thing? She’s perfectly fine, still sleeping like a kitten," Nanny Rosita replied, her expression softening. She then gestured around the hallway. "That reminds me, Young Miss, which room should I turn into the toddler’s bedroom? The one directly opposite yours should be available, right? She has no family left according to Krugger. In times like these, nobody is looking for an extra mouth to feed. We can’t make a four-year-old pay rent. We have to keep her with us; I can pay her bills."

Nanny Rosita smiled warmly, completely unaware of the huge, awkward lie she was treading on. In her mind, Zyra and Hunter were a happily married couple. Naturally, a married couple shared a bed, right? So, the room opposite Zyra’s had to be empty. But it was Hunter’s bedroom!