Chapter 291 A Shocking Name
A flicker of something akin to excitement, a spark of the old James, flashed across his face. It promptly disappeared, leaving behind an identical expression of composure.
He looked at Yara, a ghost from his past, a mixture of warmth and exasperation warring within him. "How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me James. No need for the 'Master' business."
"Okay, Master!" Yara replied, her tone earnest and her expression unchanged.
James stifled a sigh. Some things never changed.
He studied her, taking in her appearance. Time seemed to have bypassed her, leaving her untouched by its passage. She was still the same skilled, deadly… and utterly baffling woman he remembered.
"How did you even know I was here?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Yara pulled out a smartphone, a surprisingly modern device for someone who seemed to exist outside of time. She tapped the screen, bringing up a news article detailing James' recent attendance at the medical conference, his heroic actions during the fire, and even the name and location of the hospital.
James stared at the phone, then back at Yara, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You… you know how to use the internet now? I thought you hated all this technology."
Yara had always struck him as an enigma. Had he not been aware of the contrary, he might have entertained doubts that she was a time-traveler from a bygone era. In this day and age, who didn't use a phone?
And yet, here she was, still carrying that ancient sword, still preferring the shadows, still living life on her own terms. And she was still incredibly dangerous, her skills honed to a razor's edge. He knew from experience that if she hadn't chosen to spare him all those years ago, he wouldn't have stood a chance.
"Times change," she said simply as if that explained everything.
James chuckled, shaking his head. "So you've finally embraced the 21st century?"
Despite the unusual circumstances, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at seeing her again. It was a connection to his past, to a time before the Johnson family, before the marriage, before the accident.
"You've gotten stronger," he noted, observing her with a practiced eye. "Those five years haven't been wasted. I'm impressed."
Yara simply looked at him, her expression unreadable.
He sighed inwardly. She was an enigma, this one. Deadly, skilled, loyal… and yet, as expressive as a statue. If Jennifer was cold and glamorous, then Yara was a glacier, her emotions buried beneath layers of ice and snow. She ate, she slept, she trained, and she killed. Violence was her art form, her preferred method of communication.
"What is it?" he asked, with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Are you going to challenge me to a duel? Get your revenge for all those times I got the better of you?"
James had been arrogant back then, reckless. He had made enemies, and Yara had been one of them, hired to eliminate him. He had barely survived their encounters, his own skills pushed to the limit.
After each attempt, she would disappear, only to resurface weeks or months later, stronger and more determined than before. He hadn't been able to rest easy, his senses constantly on high alert.
And then, one day, the tables had turned. He had saved her from an ambush, tending to her wounds despite her attempts to fight him off. He had talked to her, truly talked to her, and something had shifted between them. She had stopped coming for him, and eventually, she had pledged her loyalty to him, becoming his shadow, his protector.
And now, she wouldn't even address him by his name, insisting on the overly formal "Master."
Yara didn't respond to his teasing. Instead, her gaze swept over him, taking in his injuries, the bandages, the pallor of his skin. Her eyes, usually as cold and remote as a winter sky, flickered with a burning rage.
"Who did this to you?" Her voice was low, laced with a chilling intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
He was weak now, his energy depleted. He was no match for her in this state. If she wanted him dead, it would be over in an instant.
"Trying to scare me, Yara?" James asked, trying to inject a note of levity into his voice.
"My apologies, Master." The killing intent vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Her gaze dropped, a flicker of something akin to panic crossing her face.
James, both exasperated and touched by her concern, decided to let it go. He had a feeling it wouldn't be wise to provoke her further. Besides, something else had occurred to him, something he'd never thought to ask before.
"You know," he said, his tone conversational, "I've known you for years, and you've never once told me your name."
She experienced a subtle tensing of her muscles, her eyes momentarily shifting away before reverting to him, maintaining a guarded expression. "Does a name truly matter?"
He saw that flicker of discomfort, and it only fueled his curiosity. "Of course it matters. Everyone has a name. Tell me yours."
She hesitated, then spoke, her voice low, almost inaudible. "Promise me you won't laugh."
He met her gaze, his expression sincere. "I promise."
She studied him for a long moment as if searching for any hint of mockery in his eyes. Finally, seemingly satisfied, she spoke.
"Yara."
Her voice was barely a whisper, lost in the quiet hum of the hospital room.
James blinked, unsure he had heard correctly. "What was that? I didn't catch it."
She glared at him, a spark of annoyance flashing in her eyes. "You heard me."
"You… your name is Yara?" he asked, his voice incredulous.
She gave a curt nod, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she turned her head away. "My teacher… she gave it to me. She… she passed away shortly after."
He stared at her, a wave of shock washing over him, followed by a surge of… amusement. He couldn't help it. It bubbled up from his chest, escaping his lips as a soft chuckle.
Yara's head snapped back, her eyes narrowed into slits. "You promised you wouldn't laugh!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped, trying to stifle his laughter, but it was no use. Tears streamed down his face, his chest aching with mirth. "It's just… your teacher… she had a sense of humor."
Yara's hands clenched into fists, her face turning a delicate shade of crimson. "Master!" she hissed, her voice a low growl.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
