Chapter 7: First Rule of Falling in Love in the Wolf Camp—Don’t Blush First
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I stood at the door of the woodshed, hands on my hips, glaring at the so-called “future big shot” who was still curled up in the straw.
Temporary codename: Little Wolf Cub.
“You want me to die faster?” he muttered, voice hoarse like he’d just swallowed a handful of ice shards.
“You’re not dying,” I handed him a bowl of warm water. “Unless you want me to boil you and feed you to the dogs.”
He shot me a sideways glance but didn’t take the bowl.
I smiled sweetly and plopped down beside him. “Alright then, let’s talk business.”
“I don’t do business with lunatics.”
“Too late,” I said, patting my chest. “You’re already registered as my long-lost cousin. Everyone believes it. I even told them you were carried off by a bear as a kid and just made your way back.”
His eyebrow twitched. “What kind of twisted story is that?”
“Easy. I learned it from a romance novel written by the girl in the next shack.”
He was silent for a moment—finally, a pause.
Then he asked, “What do you actually want?”
I said it clearly, one word at a time:
“I want to be the boss. The real kind. Not just some slave shack’s ‘temporary coordinator’—I want to be the most untouchable person in the entire Wolf Clan territory.”
He scoffed, like I’d just told the world’s funniest joke.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re just a slave,” he said. “No matter how hard you fight, all you’re doing is delaying your death.”
I leaned in close, eyes sharp. “Then let me die beautifully.”
He: “…”
“Oh, and one more thing.” I suddenly bent closer. “You need to stop looking so dead in the face all the time. Do you know what you look like right now?”
He raised a brow. “What?”
“Like someone who just got surprise-kissed and hasn’t recovered yet.”
His face instantly turned red. “You—”
I winked. “First rule of falling in love in the wolf camp: Don’t blush first.”
“I’m not blushing!”
“Then why’s your face so hot?”
“…”
I patted his shoulder. “Relax, get used to it. If you’re gonna play my cousin, you’d better start building immunity to my teasing.”
Back in the shack, Raccoon was handing out the food.
“Boss!” he waved. “Your cousin’s awake?”
“Barely breathing, but yeah.”
“He’s really your cousin?” someone whispered nearby.
“My grandma’s second sister’s grandson’s neighbor’s... anyway, yes, cousin,” I said while flipping through the notebook Amy handed me.
“How many people do we have in our... ‘team’ now?”
“Ten full-time, six part-time runners.”
“Not bad,” I nodded. “Then starting today, we call ourselves Gray Tower.”
“Gray Tower?”
“Gray stands for us slaves. Tower is the fortress we’re going to build.” I stood, looking up at the sky.
“Starting today, we have names. We have structure. We have purpose.”
“And your first lesson is—”
“How to swap our master’s breakfast for moldy flatbread.”
Everyone: “…”
“Just kidding~” I winked. “Tonight’s real mission: dig a tunnel under the north fence. Don’t ask why. You’ll know later.”
Far off, Little Wolf Cub was lying on his side, watching everything in silence.
Then he muttered under his breath:
“She’s insane. But her logic... makes terrifying sense.”
Later that night, as I was checking the tunnel progress, a low voice called from behind:
“You say you’re not in love. Then why do you keep staring at me?”
I turned around to find him leaning against the wall, still injured but managing to look like he owned the place.
I raised an eyebrow. “I was just checking if you snore in your sleep.”
He stepped closer, expression unreadable. “You sure you’re not trying to seduce me?”
I didn’t even blink. “Why would I? Can you conjure up a wolf pelt coat? Or build me a palace?”
He stared at me, and after a long beat, let out a low laugh.
“You’re laughing,” I said seriously.
“Laughing in front of a lunatic isn’t illegal,” he said softly.
But I saw the faint crinkle at the edge of his eyes. The slightest softening.
—You still don’t trust me.
But you don’t hate me anymore.
And for now,
That’s enough.
