Grey sat on the living room floor grinding the cow bone, his head lowered and expression focused and serious.
Eulalia hadn't gone to bed either; she sat on the sofa, her gaze on Grey, and called out, "Grey."
The young man lifted his head and looked at her.
Eulalia said, "Aren't you tired? Do you want to go rest?"
Grey, hearing this, lowered his gaze and continued grinding the bone. "I'm fine, not very tired."
"If you're tired, go to bed early. You're still injured." Eulalia took a sip of warm water and added, "I've washed and changed your bedsheets."
Grey paused, then murmured a soft acknowledgment.
Suddenly, he looked sharply toward the door.
At the same moment, there was a knock at the door.
"Huh, who's here, I..."
Grey stood up directly. "I'll get it."
He opened the door, and it was Draven.
He wore a loose black T-shirt, his features rugged and strong, with slightly long hair and a scar running diagonally across his forehead to his eyelids. His arms were robust, muscles bulging, exuding a palpable sense of strength.
"You, kid, you got away pretty fast. Are you hurt anywhere?" Draven reached out, patting the young man on the shoulder, his gaze briefly landing on the back of his neck. "You've grown and become stronger. Not bad."
"Grey, who is it?" Eulalia, wearing slippers, slowly walked over.
Seeing Draven, she greeted him with a smile. "...You're from the Luna Palace, right? Um... Sir, come in; don't just stand at the door."
As she spoke, she gave Grey a strong tug. "What are you doing, blocking the door?...Sir, please come in."
The tall, slender young man moved aside at her pull without any sign of displeasure.
Draven entered, smiling at them. "I'm Draven. Thank you for taking care of Grey during this time; I appreciate it."
"You can just call me Eulalia. Actually, I haven't done much to take care of him. Draven, have a seat here." After saying this, Eulalia went to pour some water.
She intentionally lingered a bit longer in the kitchen.
After all, Grey's former pack member was here; it wasn't quite appropriate for her to hang around and listen in on their conversation.
Draven glanced in Eulalia's direction as she left, then looked at Grey. "So, kid, are you not planning to leave here?"
Grey stayed silent, picking up his knife and quietly continuing to grind the bone.
Draven took out a bank card and tossed it into Grey's lap.
Grey was stunned.
"It's from Alpha Roderick. Every werewolf who participated in capturing fallen werewolves gets one. There's three million in human currency on it."
Grey kept his head down, tossing the card aside.
"I don't want it; I'm not in it for the money."
"Are you stupid? Do you think the other werewolves involved in the capture are doing it for the money? This is just Alpha Roderick's intention; we need this in the human world."
Draven tossed the card back. "You could use this money to buy a house built by pure humans, or even enough meat to last you for a while."
Grey replied, "I can take care of myself." He was capable of hunting in the mountains.
"Then, you've been living at this young lady's place all this time? In a couple of years, she'll probably get married—are you still going to stay with her then? Is that appropriate?" Draven sighed, looking at the silent young man, sensing his reluctance to leave again.
Just like when he first received the warm care from Alpha Roderick of the house.
"She means well, but you also need your own plans and boundaries. Take this card; if you don't know how to buy a house, call me, and I'll help you look."
Grey remained silent.
If Eulalia got married, could he no longer stay with her?
She would build a family with a stranger, and he...would he become unnecessary?
"This young lady is kind-hearted; she probably took you in because you're young and homeless, but she can't take care of you forever, right?"
Grey held the card, his hand clenching tightly around it.
He and Eulalia had known they would part ways eventually, yet now, the thought left him deeply unsettled.
"Here, Draven, have some water," Eulalia said, bringing out a glass of water.
In that moment, Grey instinctively clutched the bank card, hiding it from her. If...if, as Draven suggested, she had only kept him around out of pity because he had no home...
Then, if she found out he could buy a place of his own, would she ask him to leave?
Grey lowered his eyes, his lips pressing together slightly.
After drinking the water, Draven bid them farewell and left.
Somehow, Grey no longer felt like grinding the bones. He stood up, put away his tools, and went to wash up in the bathroom.
"Be careful," Eulalia warned him. "Don't let water touch your wounds."
Grey gave a soft acknowledgment and closed the bathroom door.
He splashed cold water over himself carelessly, his back and belly covered in large bruises and swollen marks, all from fights.
As the cold water hit, it left a numb, dull pain.
But he paid it no mind, treating himself carelessly and recklessly.
Only the back of his neck escaped the icy water—because she had specifically told him to be careful there.
If it weren't for Eulalia's reminders, he wouldn't care at all about whether someone was hurt, bleeding, or in pain.
He emerged from the restroom in a gray T-shirt and loose gray trousers, his hair tousled and damp from a hasty wipe. Thankfully, his sharp features gave him a distinct handsomeness.
"Your hair has grown longer," Eulalia noted from her seat on the couch.
When she first met him, he was such a little rebel with short hair.
Grey ran a hand through his gray-black hair, feigning nonchalance. "Is that so?"
Indeed, it had grown longer.
When he bent down to grind the bones, his hair almost obscured his vision.
"Want me to cut it for you?" She knew he liked his hair short and spiky, and for the past few months, she'd been the one trimming it, since he never went to human barbers. Cutting it himself would end up looking like a dog's chew toy.
Grey nodded, sitting on a stool, as Eulalia stood behind him, preparing a simple set of haircut tools.
Grey sat perfectly still, trusting her completely.
He cherished these moments, the warm, harmonious atmosphere.
He pressed his lips together. "When...do you plan to get married?"
"Huh?" Eulalia blinked, then sighed. "Why are you asking about that all of a sudden? Are you worried about me?"
Grey frowned slightly. "I'm not worried."
"Well, I'm turning twenty-six in a few months. Marriage...I don't even have a boyfriend. With this figure and my personality, it's hard to find someone."
"Your figure...what's wrong with it?" Grey was confused. She wasn't missing any limbs; her body was perfectly functional.
Eulalia sighed as she snipped away. "I've gained weight again. I'm five-foot-three, 125 pounds—pretty chubby. Not easy to find a match."
Grey pursed his lips. "...I don't think you're fat."
Actually, kind of...cute.
Soft and fair-skinned, with a gentle plumpness.
He thought about it. "Do human males prefer thin females?"
"I guess so. Thin is considered beautiful."
"Oh? Do your werewolves prefer plump girls?""
Grey pressed his lips together, saying seriously, "I don't know about them; anyway, I..." He faltered, his face suddenly flushing, feeling at a loss for words.
"What do you mean, anyway?" Eulalia asked, gently blowing the hair that had fallen onto his neck.
Grey froze, his face turning crimson.
"Nothing," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
