Chapter 5

Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows as I sat staring at the bloodstained fang in my hand, emotions in turmoil. A sleepless night had left my eyes bloodshot, but my mind was clearer than ever.

Light, hesitant footsteps approached outside—nothing like Fenrir's usual confident stride.

"Click—"

The door was pushed open gently, and Fenrir cautiously poked his head in. His right cheek still bore bloody scratches, the area where his fang was missing was severely swollen, but his eyes were full of hope.

The loss of his fang made him look much more haggard, but strangely, I found he looked more like the little wolf I once knew.

"May I... may I come in?" His voice was hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of a sleepless night and a hint of anxious pleading.

I didn't answer, but I didn't refuse either. Honestly, I didn't know what to say.

Fenrir took a deep breath and walked in carrying an exquisite wooden box. I could tell he was enduring pain just to maintain a normal walking posture.

The wooden box contained several books from the human world and a bag of beautifully packaged candy from town.

"These... these are for you." He placed the wooden box on the coffee table, like a child who had done wrong waiting for forgiveness. "I sent someone to your town overnight to buy these."

I suddenly looked up, shock flashing in my eyes: "How did you know I like to read?"

"When we were little... you always told me stories from books." Fenrir's voice was low and gentle. "Those fairy tales about princes and princesses, legends about brave knights... You said you hoped to read all the books in the world someday."

The air froze for a few seconds. My heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

I slowly stood up and walked toward the coffee table. I picked up one of the books—Jane Eyre—with a cover I recognized, the exact version from the bookstore I frequented in town.

"You really... remember these things?" My voice was somewhat choked.

"I remember everything about you." Fenrir's eyes filled with deep longing, but appeared especially vulnerable due to his injuries. "Including that your favorite candy is mint-flavored, that you're afraid of thunderstorms, and that you always make wishes to the moon during full moons..."

My heart pounded as beautiful memories flooded back like a tide. But the next second, harsh reality pulled me back.

"But..." My voice began to tremble. "So what if you remember these things? You still forced me here, locked me up!" My emotions gradually spiraled out of control. "Last night you almost..."

I couldn't continue. The fear from last night still made me tremble, and tears betrayed me by welling up in my eyes.

"I know I was wrong." Fenrir approached step by step, but maintained a safe distance. "Last night... last night I almost did something unforgivable. I was just... I was just too afraid of losing you again."

"Losing?" I wiped away my tears, my voice still cold. "You never had me to begin with!"

"No!" Fenrir retorted excitedly, then groaned in pain as he aggravated his wound. "Those three years of friendship, those afternoons by the stream, those nights when you bandaged my wounds... were all of those fake?"

Seeing his pained expression from the excitement aggravating his wound, my heart couldn't help but soften, but quickly hardened again.

I gripped the fang tightly, my knuckles turning white: "That was eight years ago! The you now..."

"The me now still loves you!" Fenrir blurted out.

The room instantly fell silent.

I stared at him wide-eyed, my heart racing. What did he say? Love me? And Fenrir realized what he had said, his cheeks instantly flushing red.

My mind was in chaos, not knowing what to believe.

"I..." He wanted to explain something, but I noticed the bloody scratches on his cheek were still bleeding, the wound more serious than I had imagined.

Seeing his weak state, my anger began giving way to worry. Damn it, why did I still care about his injuries?

"Your wound... it's still bleeding." I said involuntarily, the coldness in my voice diminishing somewhat.

Fenrir instinctively wiped it with the back of his hand, the movement aggravating the wound and making him gasp: "It's nothing, just a small injury..."

Seeing him trying to act tough, the last line of defense in my heart began to loosen.

"Sit down." I hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke. "Let me take a look."

"What?" Fenrir was stunned, clearly not expecting me to say that.

"I said sit down!" My tone was still somewhat stiff. "You hurt yourself for me, at least... at least let me check the wound. That way I'll feel better about it."

I didn't know why I was doing this. Maybe it was because of childhood habits, maybe because... I still cared about his safety, although I didn't want to admit it.

Fenrir carefully sat on the sofa, watching me walk to the bathroom to get the medical kit. I tried to keep my movements calm, but my heart was in turmoil.

"Don't move." I used a cotton swab dipped in disinfectant, carefully cleaning his wound, trying not to let my voice sound too gentle.

At this distance, I could feel his burning gaze, could hear his rapid breathing. My hands trembled slightly as I tried to keep them steady.

"Does it hurt?" I asked softly, then immediately regretted asking.

"It doesn't hurt." Fenrir gazed at my profile, his voice somewhat hoarse. "With you by my side, nothing hurts."

My hand paused slightly, my heartbeat accelerating, but I still turned my face away: "Don't say things like that."

"Ella... do you want to know what I went through these eight years?"

I fell silent for a moment, my heart struggling. Part of me wanted to refuse, but another part yearned to know the truth.

"Tell me." I finally compromised, but my voice still carried wariness.

Fenrir took a deep breath: "I returned to the pack at eighteen and found that my uncle had usurped the throne. He said my father was long dead, said I, this bastard, had no right to inherit the throne."

"Then what?"

"Then I killed him." Fenrir's voice was terrifyingly calm. "And his son, his supporters, everyone who betrayed my father. I killed them one by one."

My hand stopped, and I looked at him in shock: "Everyone?"

"Everyone." Fenrir nodded, pain flashing in his eyes. "In the wolf world, mercy means death. I couldn't let anyone abandon or betray me again."

"So you became like this..." I suddenly understood. "You brought me back by force because you were afraid I would abandon you too?"

"Yes." Fenrir smiled bitterly. "I did the wrong thing in the wrong way. But Ella, I really didn't know what else to do. For eight years, every night I thought about you, missed your smile, missed your voice..."

I lowered my head and continued treating his wound. Listening to his account of bloody past events, my heart began to soften, began to understand his pain and fear.

After finishing with the wound, I sat back on the other end of the sofa, maintaining a safe distance from him. The room fell into silence.

"Last night you said those things..." I finally spoke, my voice very soft. "About taking me away, about heirs... were you serious?"

Fenrir nodded, his eyes full of sincerity: "I never lie, at least not to you."

"But..." I gripped the fang in my hand tightly. "You lost this—will the pack still obey you?"

"That's why I need to resolve the border threat quickly." Fenrir's expression became serious. "Only by proving I still have the ability to protect the pack will they not question my authority."

My heart tightened: "You mean there will be danger?"

"There will be." He gave a bitter smile, then suddenly looked at me seriously. "But Ella, I want you to know... if I don't come back this time..."

"Don't say that!" I shot up from my seat, terror suddenly flooding my heart. "Don't you dare say that!"

Seeing my agitated reaction, surprise flashed in Fenrir's eyes. "You're worried about me?"

"I..." I bit my lip, not knowing how to answer.

He slowly stood up and stepped closer to me. "Ella, look at me."

I was caught by his burning gaze, my heart pounding like a drum.

"If I die on the battlefield, would you grieve for me?" He gently caressed my cheek.

"Fenrir..." My voice trembled.

"Answer me." His voice was low and urgent.

"Yes..." I finally admitted, tears welling up in my eyes. "Yes, I would. So you can't die!"

The next moment, he kissed me.