Sure enough, that night I feigned sleep and felt the warm bundle of fur in my arms begin to stir. He extracted himself with surgical precision, his movements fluid as a cat burglar's.

Through barely-parted eyelids, I watched his small gray form leap silently from the bed, ghost through the living room, and cleverly manipulate the door handle with his paws, creating just enough space to slip through.


I knew exactly what he was planning: find a secluded spot to transform back to human form, then make his dramatic re-entrance—the triumphant return of the alpha CEO.

I settled comfortably against my pillows, ready to enjoy this one-man show written, directed by, and starring my ex-boyfriend.

But the script took an unexpected turn.


Just as his fluffy head poked through the gap, a booming voice thundered from the hallway: "Freeze! Where do you think you're going, little escape artist?"

This was followed by frantic pounding that threatened to dent my security door.


"Bang bang bang! Aurora! Aurora, open up! Your pet's making a prison break!"

Me: "…"

With a resigned sigh, I straightened my pajamas and shuffled to the door.

Outside stood Mr. Zhang, our overzealous security guard, one hand on his hip and the other triumphantly clutching a gray "trophy"—none other than Ethan, failed escape artist.

Poor Ethan dangled helplessly, all four paws suspended in air, ears flattened and tail tucked—not a shred of alpha wolf dignity remained.

"Aurora, you've got to watch this pet of yours!" Old Zhang handed Ethan over like he was delivering captured contraband. "This little guy's too clever by half—unlocking doors by himself! If I hadn't been on patrol, he'd be halfway across town by now! Back in my prime, I was the martial arts champion of Blackwood Group's security team. Catching 'little thieves' like this? Child's play!"

I plastered on a smile as I accepted Ethan, while internally screaming.

I'm so screwed. If Ethan never changes back, what the hell am I supposed to do???

It's torture having him right here but completely untouchable!

Old Zhang, oblivious to my mental crisis, only grew more animated. He glanced between dejected Ethan and me, then slapped his thigh with sudden inspiration.

"Look how lively this little fella is! Must be your kind heart and good care. You know, my son's been talking about getting a pet too. You young folks would have plenty to talk about!"

As he spoke, he whipped out his phone, pulled up a photo, and thrust it eagerly toward Ethan and me.

"Look, this is my boy! Just back from studying overseas, working at some fancy financial firm. Handsome devil, isn't he? You two would make a perfect couple!"

The photo showed a young man in a crisp white shirt with a dazzling smile—admittedly quite handsome.

Before I could formulate a polite rejection to this impromptu matchmaking, the creature in my arms beat me to the punch.

Ethan (in wolf form) first emitted a distinctly human-like scornful snort at the photo, then—as if suffering a catastrophic system failure—his amber eyes bulged, rolled back in his head, and his entire body went dramatically limp. He had literally "fainted" from indignation.

Old Zhang: "Good heavens! What's wrong with the little guy?"

Me: "…Perhaps he was overwhelmed by your son's…handsomeness."

I carried the "unconscious" Ethan back inside, clutching the business card Old Zhang had forcibly pressed into my hand, and closed the door with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Back in my bedroom, I placed Ethan on the mattress. His eyes remained tightly shut, long lashes fluttering slightly—the picture of innocent suffering. I couldn't decide whether to laugh or roll my eyes.

I realized I'd completely adapted to this new reality filled with daily surprises and absurd moments. With him beside me—even as a jealous little wolf with a flair for dramatic fainting—life was infinitely more colorful than the bland existence I'd known before.

Early the next morning, I instinctively reached for the warm body beside me, finding only empty space.

A sharp pang of loss squeezed my chest.

Damn it, only a few days and I'm already dependent on the little furball. Aurora, you're hopeless.

As I mentally berated myself, I heard rustling from the bathroom. Investigating, I found the living room trash can filled with familiar paper scraps.

It was Old Zhang's son's business card, shredded into confetti as if it had personally offended someone.

Leaning against the doorframe, I stared at the shredded remains and burst out laughing.

Well, well, Ethan. Your childish, possessive streak hasn't changed one bit. First order of business after regaining human form: destroy all evidence of potential "rivals" and our rocky past? Fine, message received.

I decided to give him a chance—and to give myself one too.

I pulled my favorite dress from the closet and applied makeup with extra care. The woman in the mirror looked vibrant, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Just as I prepared to leave and engineer a "coincidental" meeting with him, the doorbell rang.

It was my college-aged cousin, barging in with a bag of homemade treats my mother had sent along.

"Whoa! Cuz!" he exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. "Hot date? All dolled up with that glow—spill it! Which lucky guy finally melted the ice queen?"

Ethan, who'd been feigning sleep on the sofa, instantly perked up his ears. His head snapped up, eyes locked onto my beaming cousin with laser-like intensity.

I didn't bother explaining, but my cousin plowed ahead: "Perfect timing—come over for dinner tonight! Mom's been asking about you for ages. She's making your favorite sweet and sour ribs!"

Before I could decline, I caught a familiar silhouette darting past in my peripheral vision.

It was Ethan.

My heart lurched. Oh no!

He must have misunderstood!

I hurriedly shooed away my still-chattering cousin, snatched my car keys, and dashed outside—but Ethan was nowhere to be seen.

I paced the parking lot anxiously, ready to drive off searching, when I caught a familiar voice muttering from a shadowy corner.

"…White shirt. He's wearing a damn white shirt too! When did my style become so basic?"

It was Ethan.

He'd transformed back!

Of all possible moments to change back, he picked right when I was heading out. Typical!

He wore an impeccable Givenchy suit with perfectly styled hair, yet somehow resembled a kicked puppy—shoulders slumped, muttering to himself while glaring at a concrete pillar.

I crept closer to eavesdrop on his self-directed rant.

Ethan: "No, absolutely not! I'll order a bright purple suit tomorrow. I need to completely outshine that guy!"

I nearly burst out laughing. What kind of grade-school rivalry was this?

Then his voice dropped, becoming raw with pain and self-recrimination.

"…but why should I even compete? Back then… I just disappeared without a word, leaving her to face everything alone… Aurora, I'm back, but I'm still that same insecure coward… I love you, I love you to the point of madness, but how can I possibly tell you…"

That childish jealousy intertwined with raw vulnerability hit me like a physical blow.

I stepped out from the shadows.

He heard my footsteps and whirled around. When he saw me, he froze completely—face draining of color, those beautiful eyes wide with panic.

I approached slowly, taking in his handsome yet vulnerable face, the naked emotion in his eyes he couldn't mask quickly enough.

Before my brain could catch up, my body had already made its decision.

I stepped forward, grabbed his ridiculously expensive tie, rose onto my tiptoes, and kissed him hard, right there in the parking garage.

To hell with misunderstandings, to hell with insecurities, to hell with purple suits.

Ethan, you idiot, message received.