"Actually, you could go keep her company; you don't need to stay here."
Catriona spoke seriously, "She came all the way down from the mountain to find you; you should go keep her company."
Under the soft lighting, Roderick stood in the middle of the hospital room, his brows knitting tighter with each of Catriona's words.
He found it baffling.
In a tone that was almost indifferent, as if it had nothing to do with him, he said, "It's her business if she came down the mountain; why should I keep her company?"
There were plenty of werewolves who came down the mountain; did he have to accompany all of them? It was absurd, pointless, meaningless.
Being here, with her and the cub.
That was what brought him joy, what he enjoyed.
"Uh... that was Snowheart, right?" Had she mistaken her? Catriona doubted herself; otherwise, Roderick's response was unusually off.
But Roderick nodded, giving a short "Yes, that's Snowheart."
His feet moved almost of their own accord, bringing him a few steps closer to the bed. As they continued speaking in calm, measured tones, he couldn't help but be drawn to her, watching her sit there. It was instinctive—he just wanted to be a little nearer to her.
Catriona was a bit stunned.
Since it was Snowheart, was there something wrong with Roderick's attitude? Or did werewolves simply not care about these details?
Roderick's birthday was in a couple of days, and Snowheart had likely come specifically to celebrate it.
She couldn't help but remark, "She's really beautiful." With her completely white hair, while Roderick's was pure black, the two wolves, one black and one white, did look quite fitting together.
Roderick's tone was indifferent. "Just average."
He glanced at the woman sitting on the hospital bed, her long hair falling loosely around her shoulders with a casual elegance. Her skin was fair and untouched by makeup, and her feather-like lashes cast a soft shadow beneath her eyes.
Her lips, without lipstick, were naturally full but paler, only a light pink, not as rosy as when she wore makeup.
He couldn't help but think that if he kissed them, bit them, they would redden...
Just sitting there, doing nothing at all, she was already a deadly temptation to him.
Snowheart might be considered attractive, with pack members mentioning her repeatedly. But aesthetics were always subjective.
Just as others found Snowheart beautiful, he thought Catriona was the one who looked beautiful.
"That's just 'average'?" Catriona thought Roderick's standards were unusually high. And rating a loved one as "average"?
Wasn't he... a bit lacking in social skills?
No wonder he was reading "Tricks of Wooing Woman" or whatever. With his way of speaking, he probably aggravated Snowheart on a regular basis.
Upon learning that Snowheart was coming down, he hurriedly bought a street-sold book for humans on dating.
Tsk, tsk.
The corners of Catriona's lips curved slightly, a bit gloatingly as she found Roderick's situation both deserved and amusing.
That would teach him for being so blunt and standoffish.
Serves him right—now he was secretly studying dating techniques.
Well.
It felt like a student cramming the night before an exam.
Thinking of Snowheart's beautiful white hair, she grew curious. "Are there any male werewolves with pure white fur?"
If she had been with a male werewolf with pure white fur, her son might have white fur too. That thought seemed quite cute to her—white fur, black fur, both would be adorable.
Upon hearing her ask about male werewolves, a glint of wariness flashed in Roderick's eyes. Sure enough, the next second, she sighed again, "Pure white is so beautiful, like snow."
Roderick's chest tightened, his heart instantly feeling like it was suspended in mid-air.
What did Catriona mean by this? Did she like pure white werewolves? Was she probing him?
What was she planning?
He was a pure black werewolf, like dark ink, like the pitch-black of the wilderness at night. Did she... not like black?
There were certainly pure white male werewolves, but as he was about to say it, he decided he didn't want to tell her.
Not wanting to lie to Catriona, he fell silent for a moment, then strategically changed the subject.
"Ahem, next Saturday, the kindergarten is organizing an outdoor trip, and parents are required to attend."
The mention of her son's school immediately shifted her attention.
Inwardly relieved, Roderick continued, "The main activities are setting up tents, helping prepare food, and fostering parent-child bonding. The school recommends that all parents participate."
Catriona listened carefully, nodding. "Got it. I'll make sure to adjust my work schedule."
Her gaze dropped as she began mentally organizing her tasks for next week—inventory orders, planned events, and upcoming holidays...
As for what she'd been asking Roderick about a moment ago, it no longer mattered, slipping from her mind entirely.
Snowheart had descended the mountain.
She felt it was necessary to keep her distance from Roderick. For anything unnecessary, she avoided speaking to him.
Even when Roderick initiated a conversation, she would respond quickly and then lower her gaze, returning to her own tasks.
When Roderick frowned and stared at her, she would respond like a polite, dutiful foreground lady, asking, "Mr. Nightblade, do you have anything else to say?"
Roderick:...
Meeting her "businesslike and quick" gaze, the words he wanted to say were held back.
It was just...
Just!!!
He didn't dare show any frustration to Catriona, so he stood by the window, seething quietly, his gaze fixed on the distant forest. Grinding his sharp teeth, he felt a fierce urge to go hunting right away, to release the pent-up irritation, the restless energy, and a hint of—though he'd never admit it—resentful disappointment.
The fourth day.
Catriona was discharged from the hospital, and it was also Roderick's birthday.
She wasn't in serious condition, so she planned to leave the hospital and check on her two stores. Roderick's birthday celebration was in the evening, held at Luna Palace.
Roderick gave her a ride to the store. As she got out, she turned to him and said, "Mr. Nightblade, happy birthday. I wish you all the best and that your wishes come true."
In the past two months, her relationship with Roderick had had its ups and downs. At this point, it wasn't particularly good or bad—overall, it was okay.
Roderick was watching her as she got out of the car and was about to walk away.
He hadn't expected her to turn around and say that.
His eyes widened slightly, and the whole wolf was taken aback.
Catriona pressed her lips together. "Well, goodbye." She turned and left.
Roderick stood still for a long time.
The next second, Catriona came back.
"I almost forgot—here, this is for you." Catriona took out a white box and handed it to him through the car window. "It's not valuable, but to me, it's priceless. I think you'll like it too."
Roderick hadn't expected a gift, and he felt both flattered and ecstatic, thinking this birthday was worth it.
He reached out, took it, and suppressed the nervousness, happiness, and anticipation inside. His voice was slightly hoarse. "Thank you."
Catriona left.
He watched her figure enter the flower shop and disappear from sight.
Only then did he look back at the white box in his hands, his eyes gleaming, like a dragon guarding a rare treasure, wary of everyone around him.
It wasn't safe to open it here.
Back at Luna Palace, too many werewolves—not safe.
The office? Too many people—not safe.
He drove out of the city in one go, heading to a quiet, deserted area. He navigated a dirt road surrounded by tall trees, with thickets on all sides.
Sitting in the car with the windows closed, he let out a gentle breath, carefully opening the box.
Inside was a small, thick photo album.
[Record: Baby's First Year Photos]
He opened to the first page and was stunned.
The first photo showed a baby with a slightly flushed face, eyes closed, sleeping in a swaddle, round and chubby.
The baby looked about three months old. The picture was a bit blurry, the resolution low—it was clearly taken with a cheap phone.
That was...
His cub, in the early days of life?
So tiny, soft, and delicate, asleep with closed eyes.
For a moment, Roderick felt a pang of heartache.
He had missed four years of a little life.
Looking at the photo, he imagined himself holding the cub, feeling the warm, soft scent of milk radiating from him.
But the image in his mind was cold.
He was holding emptiness.
If he had personally gone to look for Catriona back then, would he not have missed out?
Roderick, lost in countless regrets, felt that this was only the beginning of his pain.
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away to look at the second photo.
Around the same age, the young one in the swaddle was crying, mouth wide open, his face flushed with his little temper.
Yet, his chubby little face was adorable.
Roderick couldn't help but smile a bit, though the pain in his heart grew.
His fingers brushed over the photo, resting on the little one's tear-streaked, chubby face. Little guy, why was he crying?
But he couldn't touch those tears, couldn't feel that soft, round cheek, couldn't hold him close and soothe him.
He couldn't stop thinking—at only two or three months old, his mother was still recovering, wasn't she? If he cried, what would she do?
In the next photo, the little one had a pacifier in his mouth, with teary eyes that were no longer crying. The hand holding the bottle was pale and thin, so very thin.
That was Catriona's hand.
She wasn't short, with long fingers, yet so thin that her knuckles barely had any flesh. Roderick knew that for any species, pregnancy and giving birth were hard on females, but that was for others—he wasn't so compassionate as to feel sympathy.
But seeing Catriona's hand, so thin it was almost skin and bone, his heart twisted in pain beyond his control.
From the quick investigation he'd done that night, there were only a few simple lines: Catriona, 26, female, local to Capital, has raised the cub alone for five years, no male mate.
Initially, aside from the past and his prejudice against humans, Roderick hadn't liked her, but he had never denied the hardship she endured raising the cub on her own.
He knew it wasn't easy for her, so he couldn't bring himself to take the cub from her by force.
At first, he thought that the only way he could compensate her for the hardship of raising the cub was with money—there was nothing else he could offer.
Only when you truly love someone can you feel pain in your heart for them and truly care.
This kind of love encompasses family love, friendship, and romantic love.
When strangers encounter hardship, people might sigh and say they sympathize, but they forget it in an instant.
That bottomless, gut-wrenching kind of heartache only appears in deeply loving parents, close friends, or beloved partners.
The more you love, the more it hurts.
He admitted that back then, knowing Catriona raised the cub alone, he realized it couldn't have been easy, but he hadn't felt heartache.
But now, his heart had undergone an overwhelming change. Just seeing the cub cry made him ache for Catriona's post-birth frailty.
Seeing her hand, so thin and bony, made his heart ache painfully.
If he had gone to her back then to co-parent the cub, things would have been much easier for her, right?
Unfortunately, he couldn't go back.
He had missed out on her and their child.
The third photo.
It was the cub at five months old, with chubby, fair cheeks, grinning widely.
Roderick stared at it, his feelings unclear, and unconsciously turned to the last page.
It was the cub at one year old.
He was already quite big, with a head of dark hair and a round, chubby face lit up by an adorable, sweet smile as he sat in the lap of a woman in a white T-shirt. Only half of her face was visible in the photo.
Very fair, slender, beautiful.
Holding the large, one-year-old chubby baby, she smiled happily, her eyes shining, with a big curve in her brows and eyes, as if she was full of hope for the future.
Roderick stared at it for a while, took the photo out, and placed it in his wallet.
He had missed the past few years, but he wouldn't miss the many years to come.
He would put Catriona at the forefront of his heart, protecting her from now on so she would no longer suffer and grow thin.
Suddenly, he wanted to know the details of Catriona's life before and after meeting him.
He wanted to know everything about her.
On the way back, he instructed Arden to look into it.
His car stopped once again in front of the Flower Shop.
Today was his birthday.
His friends had already gone to Luna Palace.
The werewolves at Luna Palace had begun preparing food and getting busy.
As the star of the day, he should have shown up at Luna Palace by now.
But right now, he didn't want to go anywhere; he just wanted to be near her.
Suddenly, he saw Catriona come out.
"...Alright, you guys carry on, thanks. I'll go check the second shop."
Hearing this, Roderick opened the car door without a second thought and got out.
Catriona turned and saw his tall figure standing by the roadside, stunned. "Hey, Mr. Nightblade, why are you still here?"
Roderick silently walked up to her, lowered his gaze, and looked at her intently. "I want to take you."
Afterward, he parted his thin lips. "...May I?"
Catriona frowned slightly, looking at him as if he were from another planet. What was with him now? His tone was strange, almost unsettling, reminding her of the way he'd spoken to her before, with that mocking expression on his face.
But this time, it was different.
This time, there was no trace of mockery in his expression. His brow was slightly furrowed as if burdened by some worry, his gaze lowered, with a hint of humble plea in his tone.
To Catriona, he looked like an injured dog, coming to her for comfort.
What... was going on with him?
"So... it's your birthday today. Shouldn't you be at Luna Palace now?"
Why had he come to drive her, of all things?
Ah...
Werewolves—what kind of creatures were they? Every day, she was left guessing and puzzling over them. It wasn't her fault; this silly wolf was just... uniquely exasperating!
Any werewolf was easier to understand than him.
Just as he was thinking this, Roderick's phone rang.
"Sorry." He glanced at Catriona, somewhat impatiently, then took out his phone and answered the call.
Catriona heard a female voice—it must have been that Snowheart, right?
"Where are you, Alpha? Everyone's here."
It was indeed a call urging the birthday star of the day.
With Snowheart calling, he probably should...
"I don't have time right now. We'll talk tonight," Roderick said and hung up.
Catriona froze.
She was puzzled again—did werewolves treat their desired mates with such a poor attitude?
Could Roderick really win over his goddess like this?
Did he read that book for nothing?
At this rate, he was destined to stay single forever.
No, it couldn't be that unreliable roadside book teaching him this, could it?
Thinking about it, she decided not to ask. Catriona thought for a moment and then kindly reminded him, "You know, female werewolves are still women. If you want to pursue someone, maybe try being a bit nicer."
Roderick didn't catch on at first.
He froze.
Then he blushed. "You... you figured it out?"
Catriona made a small noise. "Yeah, I did."
Roderick lowered his gaze, his ears turning bright red.
His heart pounded wildly.
