How to Raise a Dumb Wolf - Chapter 75

By the time the kiss ended, Aisha could scarcely breathe. She parted her lips and drew in small, hurried breaths to recover the air she had lost. The sweetness and urgency unleashed after so much waiting and restraint had overwhelmed her. Truthfully, she was still in a daze and did not even know when they had separated or when the kiss had ended.

Her hands remained clenched in the fabric at Major General Wolf’s shoulders. His usually immaculate uniform was now thoroughly wrinkled beneath her fingers.

At the sight, Aisha blushed and instinctively tried to step back, only to remember that her back was already against the door. There was nowhere to go. When she raised her head, Major General Wolf’s blue-gray eyes were still fixed deeply upon her. At this distance, she could see her own flustered reflection with perfect clarity.

“That means… you like me, doesn’t it?” Les asked uncertainly, his voice hoarse.

Wasn’t it rather late to ask that now?

Aisha felt inexplicably aggrieved that he still wanted her to answer the question aloud. She pressed her lips together as she looked at him, unable to speak.

Les immediately panicked.

Aisha’s cheeks and lips were both unnaturally red, and her eyes seemed bright with moisture. He had no idea what to do or how to make her happy. After a moment’s hesitation, he caught her hand and placed it against his chest.

Aisha’s fingers recoiled. In the next instant, however, the powerful heartbeat beneath her palm startled her into looking up.

Les’s expression remained as rigid as ever, like an unchanging mask. By now, though, Aisha could read the resolve in his eyes.

A reassuring resolve.

Her gaze slipped away. But when she looked back, Major General Wolf was already bending slowly toward her again, approaching with tentative care. Aisha stood against the door and nervously closed her eyes.

This time, a new and gentle kiss settled upon her lips. It was far softer than the first and did not linger long.

When they separated, Aisha opened her eyes with trembling lashes and looked at Les’s tense face only inches away. Their gazes met; her eyes flickered. Les stared into the shy, luminous hazel eyes fixed upon him. When she seemed about to look away again, he simply bent down and kissed her once more—a fleeting brush of the lips, followed by another.

Amid those awkward, shallow kisses, Aisha gradually looped her arms around Les’s neck and rose onto her toes. Les supported her by the shoulder and waist. When they finally stopped, she stared at him blankly and blinked through her haze.

“I…”

Les began nervously. After a moment’s hesitation, he freed one hand and searched the inner pocket of his coat. He drew out the white ribbon he had treasured for so long, took one of Aisha’s hands, and placed it in her palm. Then he lifted that hand and pressed a gentle kiss to its back.

“I love you.”

He gazed deeply into her eyes.

“Can we… take our relationship further?”

The request in his eyes was utterly sincere. The emotion contained in those blue-gray depths was almost more than Aisha could bear. Such an expression and tone would have been difficult for anyone to refuse, and Aisha was already drawn to him.

She shifted her gaze aside. The hand he held trembled, and then she nodded in a flustered little motion.

The moment she did, embarrassment overtook her, and she hastily lowered her head.

Les, however, seemed to brighten from within. He clasped Aisha’s hand with such excitement that his fingers tightened around it. He had never been a man of sweet words, and now he was too elated to speak at all. Compared with his, Aisha’s hand was small and soft. Once he had it in his grasp, he never wanted to let go.

After a pause, he bent to kiss her again.

Suddenly—

Knock, knock, knock.

The door against Aisha’s back received three polite taps. Mrs. Maxon’s stern, measured voice came through the wood.

“Miss Aisha, dinner is ready.”

Mrs. Maxon possessed the perfectly composed voice of a middle-aged woman, one that easily brought a strict teacher to mind. Especially when it sounded so suddenly, Aisha always felt as though the household steward had seen through something.

Sure enough, the woman outside paused.

“…Hm? Miss Aisha, is someone else in your room?”

“Oh, it’s my wolf! I was talking to him.”

Aisha’s chest tightened, and she hurried to explain. As she did, one hand gripped Les’s while the other clenched the front of his uniform.

“Please give me a moment. I’ll be there right away!”

“…Very well, miss.”

At the explanation that Aisha had been speaking to her wolf, Mrs. Maxon hesitated, then appeared to let the matter drop. A few seconds later, Aisha heard footsteps recede from the door and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

When she looked back, she found Les gazing at her with burning intensity.

At the thought of the words “my wolf,” which had leaped from her mouth without thought, Aisha’s face grew hot again. She pushed him lightly, signaling that he should stop looking at her like that and give her some space. Les obediently stepped back, but he did not release her hand.

“I have to go downstairs for dinner.” The shyness had not entirely left Aisha’s face, but she tried to sound natural as she asked, “Is there anything you want to eat? I can secretly bring it up for you.”

Les certainly could not appear openly in Aisha’s home. Before she learned that he was the giant wolf, she had always let him find his own food in the forest. After discovering the truth… well, in Micks, Les had been able to dine with her in human form. On the road, Aisha had usually bought food for two, and they had eaten together in quiet silence at the inns.

But now their ambiguous relationship had abruptly advanced into romance, and Aisha did not know how she ought to behave around him. Even ordinary questions took on a strange embarrassment.

“…There’s no need.”

Les looked at her and answered gently. Without realizing it himself, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

“I can take care of it.”

Major General Wolf… almost never smiled.

Aisha stared at his expression, frozen for several seconds. Then a matching joy rose unexpectedly within her. She pressed her lips together and asked, “…Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

Les inclined his head. Then he bent and brushed one last kiss against Aisha’s lips. Only after that did he straighten and, under her gaze, transform into a wolf in a wash of pale light.

No matter how many times Aisha witnessed a beastfolk transformation, she still found it miraculous. No wonder Thorne wanted to use it as the basis of his graduation thesis. She looked at the enormous wolf sitting on the floor and wagging his tail at her, and her heart softened.

Walking over, she kissed his furry forehead.

“Then I’m going?”

“Mm.”

After receiving his answer, Aisha smiled, hugged Les around the neck, and ruffled the soft fur there before running out of the room.

Les stood in place, silently watching her leave. Even after she disappeared through the door, he did not move for a long time. A careful observer might have noticed that the body beneath his long fur had gone utterly rigid. Parting that fur might even have revealed a flushed face and reddened ears.

One reason for his peculiar condition was that he could hardly bear to part from the woman who had only just become his lover, especially in the midst of their tenderness.

The other was…

Les’s ears twitched unnaturally.

Before, it had not mattered. Aisha had not known he was anything other than a wolf. But now, perhaps he ought to explain that although beastfolk possessed two forms, their beast forms had the same emotions and sensitivities as their human bodies.

Of course, if it was Aisha, she could touch him anywhere she pleased. Even so, a little care would be best—especially around the neck, body, and ears. Out of courtesy, beastfolk generally did not thrust their hands into one another’s fur and ruffle it at random, either. But…

How was he supposed to tell her that?

Troubled, Les moved his tail.

…

Meanwhile, Aisha had already run down the staircase with one hand on the banister. Her cheeks were brightly flushed with excitement, lending her all the fresh beauty of youth. Anyone could see how delighted she was.

The front door suddenly opened with a steady swing, allowing the winter wind to sweep inside. Only then did Aisha notice that dusk was approaching. When she saw the man entering, her eyes curved in a smile and she naturally rushed toward him.

“Father!”

Hock Byrd paused. His hand, which had been moving to remove his hat and coat, changed direction and easily caught the daughter who flew into his arms like a little bird. He patted Aisha’s shoulders, slender compared with those of a soldier, and could not help smiling.

“You’re home already? When did you arrive?”

“This afternoon,” Aisha answered naturally.

“Your mother has missed you terribly. Have you seen her?”

“Yes. We talked this afternoon too. Oh, it seems dinner is about to start. Shall we go together?”

“All right.”

Hock nodded. To Aisha, her father’s voice was as calm and reassuring as ever. Now that he lived in Vitas, he was required to enter environments very different from those he had known before, and no longer had to sleep rough in the wilderness. As a result, he was dressed with far greater dignity and care than he had been in Philray. The long scar that marred his face remained, but at least he no longer looked like a weathered, destitute forest hunter.

For some reason, Aisha remembered the old photograph she had seen at Wold Military Academy, the one in which her parents stood together. Her father had been young and handsome then, before the long scar crossed his face.

“Shall we?”

Hock had already removed his cold hat and coat and hung them on the wooden rack. He turned to Aisha.

Vitas lay farther north than Saint Regin, and its colder winters demanded heavier clothing.

Aisha came back to herself and quickly nodded with a smile. “Yes!”

She turned toward the dining room.

Hock watched her retreating figure, so much more cheerful and lively than she had ever seemed in Philray, and finally released a quiet breath of relief before following.