Chapter 4: Unfamiliar emotions

Bridget asked with confusion, "What's the matter?"

Clara, tasked with caring for his young wolf, bowed nervously to her leader and stammered, "My leader, I was dressing your pet's wounds... but for some reason, it suddenly started howling…”

Bridget frowned and quickly approached the wolf pup. Sitting down gently, his typically cold, golden eyes softened upon contact with the tiny, fluffy creature. His large, calloused hand lightly touched the cringing pup, stroking it very gently. However, it seemed the young wolf was not accustomed to being touched, so it tensed up, turning its small body to warily regard him.

…There was something endearing about it.

Bridget smiled, smoothing the pup's furry little head that was close to his hand.

"Ah!" Bridget's finger throbbed, and he looked down to see that the ungrateful wolf had bitten him. Truly ungrateful indeed.

He was the most ruthless leader of the North, never before had any creature dared to defy him like this. If it had been anyone else, he would have torn them apart, but for this little wolf…

His hand, initially tensed to strangle the life out of the pup, for some reason, couldn't follow through. A surge of pity emerged, puzzling Bridget. Why could he feel compassion for an ordinary wolf? Why would he overlook an attack from a beast that had the audacity to assault him?

These unusual feelings were unacceptable to a powerful and cold leader like him. He did not need to stay here, he needed to leave.

Yet despite his thoughts, he gently pulled his hand away from the little wolf. Perhaps even Bridget didn't expect that he would indulge this tiny creature even more in the future.

…

Layla watched the man's retreating figure, running away. The moment she bit his hand was a natural reflex to a stranger approaching suddenly, but upon realizing the beautiful male wolf was near, she wanted to flee.

Why would she want to escape?

Of course, because she realized that in this area, he was the alpha, as his scent dominated everywhere. If he got angry about the bite, he might well kill her.

Firstly, because she was a wolf from another territory. The wolf law is clear: one lives where one's territory is, and illegal trespassing is not permitted. To violate this is to provoke and declare war.

Secondly, she noticed that these people seemed to consider her a normal wolf. From the moment Clara, the wolf, brought her to the cave for treatment, passing the fierce-looking patrol wolves, she sensed their surprise and disdain.

Above all, she overheard the patrol wolves talking to each other.

"That crazy one has brought back something else?”

"Shush! His loyal dog might hear us now.”

"...Why waste supplies on this beast? Wouldn't it be less wasteful to skin and roast it?”

"Stop talking!”

Perhaps when she was seriously injured, she had lost all her strength. So they must have mistaken her for a lower life form incapable of shapeshifting. And to the proud wolfkin, a creature that cannot shapeshift is no different from the prey they consume daily.

Combining all these factors, she could conclude that her life was in danger at the moment. If not for the self-proclaimed Bridget wanting her alive, she would have been killed long ago. And once Bridget changes his mind, he could kill her at any time.

Fortunately, he had no intention of killing her.

Exhausted, Layla collapsed onto the table, her body having strained to defend itself; now she had no strength left.

The sound of footsteps approaching once more tensed her body, and her wolf eyes struggled to open to see who was coming. It turned out to be Clara, responsible for her treatment, approaching.

Her sharp face was filled with a cold demeanor, Layla had always grown up under the scrutinizing eyes of others. Except for deeply concealed individuals like Phelan and Leon, she saw through most of the expressions on the faces around her.

The brown eyes of this girl showed contempt for Layla, but she had to obey and care for the small wolf as ordered by her superior.

It was merely contempt for a being lower than herself, not frightening compared to what Layla had endured.

The exhausted wolf lay down, knowing at least for now her life was secured, but she needed to regain her strength as quickly as possible. She closed her eyes, disliking the feeling of helplessness that enveloped her body. It was a relief that she hadn't been completely crippled before; though moving was a bit forced now, at least she wouldn't be truly disabled.

She could feel her body being healed by a fragile stream of power. What she needed to do now was to gather strength for Baron's treasure.

Layla remembered her father's words, "Baron is favored by the moon, also receiving strength from it…" Perhaps the full moon's power was what she needed at this moment. Her blue eyes opened, looking towards the ever-clear sky. She thought:

The full moon… it's coming soon.

…

After Layla was redressed, the brown-eyed girl took her to the place where the man lived.

A wolf and a small wolf stood in front of the thick wooden door, which seemed to lack effective soundproofing despite its appearance. She could hear the conversation inside, even the arguing of those within.

"Team two reports that there's no more harvest from that area."

"A herd of mutated rams has appeared in the South..."

"Report, the Western tribe has changed its leader, they want to invite us to the ceremony, and mention cooperation!"

She quickly latched onto the last sentence, the Western tribe changing leaders? Ha, that wretch Leon wanted to show off to the world that he had become the new leader, to assert his power.

That foolish braggart wouldn't be happy for long. Because the position wasn't seized by Leon's abilities, soon he would be reduced to a puppet by the elders there.

What worried her here were her own loyal subordinates. The day of the wedding, half of her people were out gathering food and supplies. What had happened to them when she was captured, could they escape from those evil men?

She never thought they would betray her, as she had saved them, and she had nurtured their skills herself. Their absolute loyalty to her was unchangeable.

Layla thought that once she regained her strength, she needed to find a way to contact them.

As she was pondering, Bridget's haughty voice pulled her back to reality: "If it's a descendant of Baron, then it's respectable, but what's to fear from a werewolf who gained power through his mate's death?"

She laughed, right, what was there to worry about someone who clung to their mate's coattails. Although it was true, it was interesting to hear it stated so candidly.

She found this man to be truly arrogant, but his arrogance stemmed from absolute strength.

In this world of werewolves, strength was the only thing that mattered.

After Bridget's statement, the others quickly finished reporting their remaining tasks and then dispersed as if a beehive had been broken. Clearly, this had happened many times before. Layla could see that the brown-eyed girl holding her had no excess emotion, as if she was too accustomed to such events.

After the last one left, Clara knocked three times, speaking up seriously.

"Leader, I have brought your found pet here."

She realized Clara didn't call her 'little wolf' like Bridget, the term 'your pet' showed her status here in everyone's eyes.

How laughable, a powerful leader of the West now reduced to someone else's pet. All because of those traitors!

The grudge was once again deeply etched in her heart. If she didn't retaliate, she wouldn't be worthy of the Baron lineage!

…

Bridget looked at the small creature bandaged all over, the initial anger gone without a trace. He gently took the small wolf from his subordinate's hands and signaled Clara to leave. He caressed the little head, smaller than his palm, so gently that the little wolf squirmed with ticklishness.

He smiled contentedly. The gentle man no longer had the fierce face from before.

His instincts quickly overrode him, not yet considering why he should favor such an inferior creature, the action was direct.

The connection of fate is always miraculous, two destinies that never had the chance to meet, find each other in the most unexpected way. For they were meant for each other.