Chapter 95: Chapter 95: Werewolf World

Lila POV

Sunlight, like molten gold, streamed through the gap in the cream-colored curtains, pooling into a warm patch of light on the wooden floor. Tiny dust motes floated in the air, carrying a fresh scent of sunshine and lilies that dispelled the lingering gloom and dampness of the previous night.

I sat on the bed, feeling a little languid under the sun’s warmth. The chaotic dream from last night and that both familiar and foreign “Marriage Agreement” seemed to have lost some of their chill in the morning light.

While I was lost in thought, the door opened softly, and Zoe walked in carrying an exquisite breakfast.

It was a pure white porcelain plate holding a cup of steaming milk, a few slices of golden-brown toast, and a small bowl of cut fruit. She placed the plate on my nightstand with a gentle touch. Instead of immediately urging me to eat as she usually did, she turned and sat on the edge of the bed.

She looked at me, her expression complex, as if she were weighing her words, or perhaps steeling her resolve.

“Lila,” she finally began, her voice soft yet tinged with an almost imperceptible gravity, “are you ready to accept something… even more unbelievable? About your world before you lost your memory.”

My hand, holding the glass of milk, paused. Warmth spread from my palm as I looked up at her. Though her eyes were still a little red-rimmed, her gaze was exceptionally firm. She wasn’t joking.

“Is there anything more unbelievable than amnesia and that agreement?” I managed a small smile, trying to ease the sudden seriousness.

Zoe didn’t smile. She reached out and gently took my hand. Her palm was a bit cool, her fingertips pressing slightly. “Lila, listen to me carefully. This world is far more complex than you see. Besides humans, there are other… races.”

I blinked, waiting for her to continue.

“For example, the Hale Family,” she said, looking me in the eye and enunciating each word, “is a Wolf Family.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

I thought I had misheard, or maybe that she was recounting some strange family legend. ’Werewolves? The kind of creatures that only exist in movies, novels, and myths? Monsters with fangs and fur that transform on a full moon?’

My first instinct was to laugh or argue, but the words caught in my throat.

Because when I looked into Zoe’s eyes—those eyes that always held a hint of craftiness and pride—there wasn’t a trace of humor in them now, only seriousness and a flicker of worry. And for some reason, I didn’t feel the panic or absurdity I would have expected.

Instead, a strange, indescribable sense of familiarity, like an undercurrent, slowly welled up inside me.

“It sounds incredible,” I heard myself say, my voice laced with a hint of confusion, “but deep down… I don’t feel surprised. It’s as if… this is how things are supposed to be.”

Zoe looked at me, seemingly relieved and yet more nervous at the same time. She squeezed my hand, her grip tightening. “Really? You don’t think I’m talking nonsense? You’re not scared?”

I shook my head. The feeling of familiarity grew stronger, like a gut instinct rooted deep in my bones. “It’s not scary. In fact… it feels comforting.” I tilted my head, trying to grasp the fleeting spark of insight, but it slipped away.

“Then…” My curiosity was completely piqued, and my eyes lit up uncontrollably. “Zoe, since you say you’re a Werewolf… can I see your wolf form?”

Zoe froze.

She stared at me as if I’d made an unbelievable request. The serious look on her face was instantly replaced by an odd expression. She let go of my hand, instinctively shrinking back a little, and a suspicious blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Well…” She turned her head away, murmuring awkwardly, “Except for when I was little, I’ve never shown my wolf form to anyone before.”

I was a little surprised. In my mind, Zoe had always been a carefree, even tomboyish girl. Why was she getting shy about this?

“Really?” I couldn’t help but smile, the strange tension dissipating quite a bit. “Doesn’t that mean I’ll be the first person to see your wolf form?”

Zoe bit her lower lip, seemingly annoyed at her own reaction but unable to refute it. She turned back to me, looked into my eyes, which were filled with anticipation and curiosity, and finally sighed. In a tone both resigned and fond, she said, “Alright, for the sake of helping you get your memory back, I’ll bite the bullet. But you can’t laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t laugh!” I immediately held up three fingers as if taking an oath.

Zoe took a deep breath as if preparing for a solemn ritual. She got up from the bed and walked to the center of the room, into the spot where the sunlight was brightest. She closed her eyes and leaned forward slightly. I could feel the temperature in the air seem to rise a little, and a strange, feral energy quietly gathered around her.

I stayed silent, holding my breath, afraid of disturbing her.

A faint light flickered.

It wasn’t Magic, nor was it special effects. It was more like a distortion and reorganization of space itself. A visible ripple, like a wave in water, spread through the air. Then, at the center of that ripple, Zoe’s form began to change.

The process wasn’t grotesque; on the contrary, it possessed a strange beauty. Her body shrank rapidly as she dropped to all fours. Brown fur surged from within her like a tide, covering her entire body. A few seconds later, the light faded.

My eyes widened as I stared at the scene before me.

What appeared before me was not a massive, terrifying dire wolf with bared fangs, but a… fluffy, small, brown African wolf.

It wasn’t large, only about the size of a medium dog. Its brown fur had a soft sheen in the sunlight. It had pointed ears and a tail as fluffy as a dandelion puff. It was looking down shyly, glancing up at me with moist, brown eyes that held a hint of apprehension.

’Cute.’

It was the only word I could think of.

It completely shattered my stereotype of Werewolves as “fierce” and “terrifying.” This little wolf looked so soft and warm, making me want to reach out and pet it.

“Zoe?” I called out tentatively.

The little wolf twitched its ears, as if in response. It took two careful steps forward and then, like a puppy, shyly nuzzled my hand.

The sensation was fluffy and carried the warmth of the sun, along with a unique, animal heat. I couldn’t resist anymore and scooped it into my arms.

Her fur was unbelievably soft. It felt like holding a warm, breathing ball of fluff. I couldn’t stop myself from burying my face in the thick fur of her neck and taking a deep breath. It was a unique scent—a mix of sunshine, fresh grass, and a hint of Zoe herself—that was fresh, natural, and reassuring.

“Zoe, you’re so adorable!” I couldn’t help but plant a kiss on her furry head, laughing as I spoke.

The little wolf seemed embarrassed by my kiss. It struggled to get out of my arms but seemed reluctant to leave, letting out a few whimpering noises that sounded more like a plea for affection.

“Lila,” she said softly, “seeing me like this… did you remember anything?”

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