A Werewolf's Growth and Redemption

"Master, this is the third time we are going to resurrect him. Are you sure we should continue?"

"Please continue."

"Master, this is our final chance."

"Continue, please, I beg of you, continue." I knelt before the elderly man, pleading.

It was the first time in my life that I had to beg someone, beseeching our family's magician butler to once again revive a human man.

The first time, my dominance and brutality had led to his demise; the second time, my deceit and selfishness had caused his death; and now, the third time, my delusions and recklessness had resulted in his demise once more.

His gradually cooling body lay before me once again.

The magician butler had warned me beforehand that if we were to resurrect him, his life would become even more arduous, his personality would become simpler. Despite knowing this, I had agreed without hesitation, confident in my ability to protect him. I had assured the magician butler that there wouldn't be a next time, that I would cherish him, love him, and guard him. Yet, here we were, at our last chance. I couldn't afford to make another mistake.

What had he done wrong? When would I ever get it right?

"Master, I cannot bear to see you beg like this, please rise."

"No, you can bear it. As long as you help me, I'll do anything you ask, anything you want, I'll give it to you."

"Master, I don't need anything. As the butler of the Lucas family, fulfilling the master's orders is my duty."

"No, you're not just a butler, you're my benefactor, the benefactor of this useless person."

"Master, you..."

"I'm useless, I can't even protect him."

"You're not, you are..."

"Useless! I'm the most useless person in the world!"

It was the first time I admitted to my own incompetence. Previously, I had exuded confidence, self-love, arrogance even, to an extent where others wouldn't dare criticize or mock me, because I wasn't just an ordinary person, I was Ryan.

Ryan Lucas. I hailed from the Lucas family, a fairly successful business dynasty, not exactly a household name, but well-known among peers.

Since childhood, everyone I encountered, whether familiar or stranger, would utter the same phrase to me - "You're really good-looking." Undeniably, there were times when I looked in the mirror and thought I was quite handsome indeed. With my golden eyes, prominent nose, lips that many women coveted, skin healthier and more alluring than any vampire's, and a robust physique inherited effortlessly through family lineage, I attracted admirers wherever I went—men and women alike, old and young. While options were plentiful, discerning who was genuine became a daily challenge. But that wasn't the extent of my troubles.

My true anguish began when I reluctantly joined a club in college. Disinterested in most things and only somewhat interested in football, I joined the football club, thinking it would be a tolerable option. However, from the moment I started training, I felt disaster looming. The football field was overcrowded to the point of nearly being demolished, I endured harsh exhortation from the coach, and eventually, I was banned from training in public. In essence, joining or not joining the club made little difference.

Despite my seemingly perfect exterior, I carried two secrets.

Firstly, I was not entirely human, I was a werewolf, and not just any werewolf, but the most noble of the werewolf lineage, a white wolf.

Secondly, I did not harbour affection for women. While I had engaged in relationships with women in the past, they never elicited any genuine response from me. As for men, those who pursued me were often too clingy for my liking, and any relationship with them ultimately dissolved—except for him.

These secrets, while significant, do not trouble me greatly. Even with my non-human nature and lack of attraction to women, I was still able to live the life I desire. However, his presence had transformed me from the pursued to the pursuer, awakening within me desires and emotions I never thought possible, changed me from someone who could have anything to someone consumed by control and possessiveness. He drove me to madness, leading me to commit terrible deeds, resulting in his death, and not just once.

I didn't know if he understood every action and sentiment of mine. But even if he didn't, it didn't matter. No matter what he became, he was the person I wanted to protect, the person I loved most.

My love for him began in my second year of college….