?Chapter 919:


    “How did this rtionshipmence?” Kristian’s internalndscape churned with turbulence, a maelstrom of negativity crushing against his ribs.


    No one could fathom the torment he endured, standing at the periphery while absorbing those revtions.


    Why had Freya embraced Ellis’s courtship? Why had she rejected him with such finality? Why?


    “This afternoon,” Freya said without hesitation, her tone forthright. “Go wash your hands and eat. After our meal, I have something important to discuss with you.”


    “Why choose him over me?” Kristian’s emotional restraint crumbled, unleashing sentiments he’d previously suppressed. “Didn’t you once dere your indifference toward him? Vow never to ept his advances?”


    “Those derations belonged to my past self, not my present reality.” Freya recognized that only direct honesty would suffice now. “Eat first.”


    Kristian remained frozen in ce. He struggled toprehend this bewildering transformation. Mere hours ago, hadn’t she decisively chosen him and prayed for his survival? How could everything—metamorphose so dramatically within such a brief interval?


    As he wrestled with the storm inside him, Kristian felt his emotions unraveling—like threads pulled from a fraying tapestry, about to snap. All the fury and bitterness he’d buried like bones beneath the floor came rushing back, drowning his heart in a flood of resentment he could no longer hold back.


    Freya had been nice to him in the past days. And in a blink, she’d chosen someone else—as if he’d been nothing more than a passing shadow.


    “If you never cared about me, why’d you bother saving me?” Kristian asked Freya, his voiceced with quiet hurt and sharp confusion. “You could’ve just let me die. Wouldn’t that have spared everyone all this mess?”


    Freya’s brows knit together. Was he spiraling out of control?


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    Right then, Ellis appeared, his footsteps cutting into the tense air like a knife.


    The moment Kristian saw him, the storm inside him swelled. His emotions roared to life like a rising tide that wouldn’t be held back. Just as Kristian opened his mouth, Ellis stepped forward and, with chilling precision, struck him on the back of the neck.


    Darkness swallowed Kristian’s world in an instant. He crumpled like a puppet with cut strings. Ellis caught him just in time.


    Freya blinked in stunned silence, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events.


    “There’s a bag in my room with medicine,” Ellis said coolly, every word measured and calm. “Bring it. I’ll take care of the rest.” Without hesitation, Freya turned and left.


    She returned momentster, medicine in hand, having double-checked thebel.


    Ellisid Kristian on the bed with clinical care, his hands steady, his face unreadable. He hooked up the IV and administered the drug like a man who’d done this a thousand times.


    “It’s a custom form—meant to calm the nerves,” Ellis exined, ncing up at her. “Once he’s up, he should be clear-headed enough to talk.”


    “When did you get this?” Freya asked, her worry slowly giving way to reluctant relief.


    “When I visited the military and asked about his status,” Ellis replied. His foresight spoke volumes. “Now go eat. He won’t wake for at least another half hour.”


    Freya’s thoughts tangled like vines. Worry gnawed at her. What if Kristian couldn’t handle the truth behind his returning memories? Worse—what if he twisted everything, saw betrayal where there was none? Then what?


    Ellis, ever observant, caught the storm brewing behind her eyes. After tidying up, he asked gently, “What’s weighing on you?”


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