The wardrobe was opened, and a tall man with his eyes closed, arms wrapped around his knees, leaned against the wall. His silvery-white eyelashes contrasted sharply with his dark skin, and they trembled slightly.

The buttons on his shirt were haphazardly fastened, casting deep shadows on his chest muscles, and in his arms he held a familiar piece of black fabric.

It's probably been sitting for too long, so the colors have faded a bit, and the gemstone clasp on top has come undone, looking like it could be easily pulled off with the slightest force.

But Dario held it tightly as if it were a precious treasure, burying the lower half of his face in it, his breath hitting the fabric.

At the edge of the deformed cloak, Willy found two small holes close together, which were once the dog's teeth marks.

...Why do you still keep this?

Vili leaned forward, trying to pull the cloak away, but a strong force came from the other side, and he was pulled into the dark wardrobe instead.

Bang.

The boy fell into his arms.

The wardrobe door wasn't very wide open; it creaked shut as the wind blew in from the window, leaving only the two people inside.

A hot palm encircled his lower back, bringing a slight tickle. The boy's cool hand rested on Dario's broad arm, making him appear unusually petite, as if he were nestled in the man's embrace.

“…Dario?”

After a brief silence, he called out softly.

In this position, Vili could only see the wall in front of him, but could not see the werewolf's expression.

The werewolf didn't answer, but simply hugged the person in his arms tighter. His chin rested on the boy's shoulder and neck, and his furry ears twitched, causing Vili to shrink back, but he couldn't escape this restraint.

Immediately afterwards, he felt Dario tilt his head.

"Hmm—"

Vili suddenly gripped his clothes tightly.

The sharp teeth brought a slight sting, and I bit down with a little force, but I couldn't bear to tear through that snow-white skin, leaving only a faint mark.

Even so, he seemed to feel a pang of heartache. He hastily retracted his fangs, then a touch of moisture licked his skin, drawing circles with extreme gentleness and agility.

But this feeling seems much more agonizing than before.

Willy's body went limp involuntarily. He could no longer hold onto Dario's clothes, but subconsciously he was afraid of falling, so he wrapped his arms around the man's neck instead, his fingers running through the short, silver hair, unconsciously tightening.

Perhaps out of fear of choking the boy, Si Yuan's ribbon was not tied tightly. After these movements, it became loose and seemed that it could be untied with just a gentle pull.

Those shiny black leather shoes, somehow, were now hanging precariously from Willy's curled-up toes.

"No...don't use this form to act cute towards me..."

With great difficulty, Willie finally regained his composure, but his reprimanding words were soft and weak, seemingly tinged with a sob.

If you were to replace Dalio's actions with those of the White Wolf, it would be no different from anything he would do normally.

Vili knew that it was probably because he had just mentioned werewolves that even though he was hiding alone in grievance, he still remembered to transform into human form to avoid losing his fur, and even put on clothes.

Just thinking about this made it inexplicably... impossible for him to be angry with Dario.

But this seems to be making things worse for myself.

There was no response from the werewolf for a long time, and he stopped all movement. It was only then that Willy belatedly realized that his body temperature seemed to be burning hot.

The boy paused, then slightly raised his head, creating a small distance between his head and the boy's chest, gently placing his cool hand on his forehead, which was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

It's so hot.

His crystal-clear eyes were wide open. Vili subconsciously withdrew his hand, but Dario quickly grabbed it and affectionately pressed it against his cheek, rubbing against him like a white wolf.

Only then did he finally open his eyes.

The eyes that once held the clear blue winter sky melted instantly, veiled by a thin mist as if washed by water, becoming moist.

"Master," he said, his voice hoarse, "I feel so bad."

His neck and cheeks were flushed red from the smoke, and his tightly pursed, slightly fierce-looking lips were pale, making him look rather pitiful.

Vili frowned but did not pull his hand away.

Where do you feel unwell?

Are you sick?

"Can werewolves get fevers?"

He asked several questions before he remembered that he could use healing magic.

Before he could even activate the magic within him, he felt the world turn upside down before his eyes. He was pushed over from a different direction and buried in soft clothing, surrounded by a familiar fragrance.

He blinked slowly, somewhat bewildered, and then met Dario's eyes.

In the darkness, those long, narrow wolf eyes gleamed with a faint green light.

Such a gaze does not belong to a dog, but to the most cruel and ferocious predator in the snowy plains.

But at the same time, its fluffy, snow-white tail was wagging rapidly, desperately trying to please the person in front of it.

Vili suddenly remembered a few words he had read in a book before.

It is said that a dog wagging its tail expresses not only happiness, but also... excitement.

But by the time he realized this, it was too late.

His lips were ravaged until they were crimson, and the young vampire's pale face was flushed with a heat that didn't belong to him. His shoes had long since been kicked away, but his legs were being held down tightly.

Dario had no experience with family; he was simply obsessed with savoring the sweet taste in the boy's mouth, his rough tongue darting around, greedily swirling back the saliva that dripped down.

Vili's eyes were slightly red, and tears fell like a string of beads, only to be carefully licked away by the werewolf in the next second, leaving his eyelashes wet.

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