When a Well-Raised Son Grows Up - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

She felt as if she were coming to terms with her senses. However, unlike her, Carlisle was still intoxicated by the lingering kiss. He showed no inclination to release her.

His tongue moved within her mouth, mixing with her saliva and sharing her br**th, as invasive as it was.

The hand that held her breast moved back and forth, playing around her stiff n*ppl*.

“Carlisle……!”

Abella exclaimed as she successfully pulled away from him.

“What are you doing?”

“What?”

“What on earth…?”

Abella recoiled, observing him with a cautious look. Then Carlisle narrowed his eyes innocently as if he were completely unaware.

“But… it says in the book that people do this when they love each other.”

“……what?”

“You claimed to love me as well.”

Momentarily taken aback, Abella pressed her lips together.

“I love my mom, too.”

“Because…”

“So, that’s all it is. Did I make another mistake?”

A visage as innocent as a blanket of white snow and ears that hung down with a sense of sympathy. A set of sagging eyes preoccupied with self-examination.

Certainly, there was no sinister motive behind Carlisle’s actions.

It was oddly disconcerting. Abella’s thoughts swiftly shifted to bewilderment. However, before she could contemplate further, Carlisle drew her into his arms once again.

“I apologize.”

“…….”

“If you ask me not to, I won’t. I just thought… it would be nice to kiss you and be close, and I thought you might enjoy it… So I did, but… I suppose I was mistaken, and I apologize.”

His voice held an unusual tremor, reminiscent of a wounded puppy, despite it being Carlisle who was engaged in the kissing and holding of  her br**st”

‘Yeah, well, what does he understand?’

‘He’s not an ordinary human boy; he’s a wolf, so I shouldn’t apply human standards to him.’ 

In the end, it was Abella who felt sorry for herself today.

She shrugged off the peculiar sensation and glanced at Carlisle, who asked, bewildered,

“Are you feeling… unwell?”

“No”

“I don’t believe so.”

No, treating herself like this is not appropriate.

She comprehended the necessity of setting a strong and unambiguous boundary.

She acknowledged the importance of being decisive and clear, as failing to do so could lead to an escalation of Carlisle’s outbursts.

However, he seemed oddly hesitant to talk.

“He might get hurt. He’s consistently watching out for me, and aside from me, there isn’t much else in his world, so he’s behaving in this way.”

With that in mind, Abella attempted to view Carlisle, who possessed the physique of a mature man, as if he were a child.

* * *

That evening, assured that Abella was asleep, Carlisle carefully rose from the bed.

He didn’t want to stroke her sleeping p*ssy, as he often did, but… His behavior today was unusual.

Carlisle silently left the house, leaving a slumbering Abella with a menacing glint in his eyes. He wrinkled his nose, trying to detect the scent of her friend, who had addressed him as Esha.

The scent was subtle, but not impossible to trace. After investigating a few of the smaller houses in the neighborhood, it became evident which one belonged to Esha, as discerned by the scent in the immediate vicinity.

He didn’t comprehend how he had survived, but once he became aware that he had, Carlisle had no intention of letting him live.

His sharp teeth gleamed in the darkness of the night. The focal point of his gaze was Esha’s modest hut.

Esha remained awake, a faint light streaming through the window.

Carlisle held his breath and waited for the moment when the light would extinguish.

* * *

After spending a considerable amount of time in that manner, well past midnight, the light in Esha’s hut finally went out.

Carlisle stood motionless in the darkened house, then swiftly approached Esha’s door, effortlessly breaking the lock.

Upon pushing open the door, the initial sight that greeted him was the back of Esha’s sleeping figure and a gray bundle of fur curled up beside her.

Carlisle narrowed his eyes, delving into his memory to identify the owner of the fur. It was a recollection from the past that he was so keen on forgetting.

The aged wooden floor emitted a squeak with every step Carlisle took. While Esha, the landlady, remained fast asleep and seemingly oblivious, the wolf, the creature, was more attentive.

The gray creature, appearing lifeless and hunched over, fought to raise its eyelids. Subsequently, its gaze met Carlisle’s, and its red eyes gleamed.

The small, furry creature stumbled, opening its eyes. It wrinkled its black-bean nose at the scent of its long-lost relative, furrowing its brow.

Having been slumped as if lifeless, the sudden awakening and sniffing indicated a significant change.

Carlisle advanced towards him in silence, and the gray furball instinctively retreated, baring its teeth.

“Kr…….”

Even in his debilitated condition, a single swipe of Carlisle’s forepaw could have severed the tenuous thread of life.

Knowing that Carlisle casually tousled his hair. Then he cast an unsympathetic gaze at his long-lost kin.

“The vermin are alive and kicking.”

The wolfish creature tensed at the words. With a sharp inhale, it transformed from a wolf into a human.

Taking the shape of a young child, the wolf stood shakily, obstructing the way to the slumbering Esha, and stared defiantly at Carlisle.

A smirk formed on Carlisle’s lips, revealing his understanding of the situation.

‘Odd, I must say. I distinctly remember killing every one of them, tearing their throats out.’

“…….”

“I was unaware that any of my kind were still alive.”

The lifted edges of his mouth appeared rather sinister, almost as if Carlisle were the antagonist.

Indeed, the gray, furry creature before him was a relative. He was already certain, but stepping into the small cabin only strengthened his conviction.

The cabin had the distinct scent of a wolf. Once he confirmed he wasn’t mistaken, there was no need for further contemplation.

All he needed to do was seize the gray furball by the throat, and he could make a quick exit.

As the footsteps approached, Carlisle headed directly toward his kin, and a young boy with ash-colored hair positioned himself in Esha’s way.

It was as though he conveyed, “End me, but spare her.” And then, an event unfolded.

“Leo…?”

A feeble voice reverberated in the tense atmosphere of the house. It was Esha, still in the deep slumber of the unaware.

Sure, here’s a paraphrased version of the provided text:

“In her sleep, Esha’s arms flailed, and she embraced the little boy with ash-colored hair who stood in front of Carlisle. Then she shifted back into her wolf form.”

This action halted Carlisle, who had been on the verge of seizing the little boy by the nape of his neck. He recognized that the person holding his relative was a dear friend of Abella.

A considerable amount of time elapsed before Esha drifted back into sleep, and a scornful expression crossed Carlisle’s face.

“Leo…”

“…”

“What a name for a jerk.”

In response, the relative in Esha’s embrace spoke.

“Carl”

A dagger. The crimson one.

That was the moniker given to Carlisle, her adversary within the wolf pack. To be more precise, it was a nickname he had earned due to never having been formally named.

Carlisle showed no response to the name he hadn’t heard for quite some time. Instead, he glared at his fellow kin as if he were on the verge of attacking.

Carlisle observed him intently, trying to figure out his identity. A tense silence hung in the room, only interrupted by the sound of Esha sleeping.

“Somebody mentioned…”

Carlisle spoke, squinting.

“…Redden.”

His sibling was born to parents who were chieftains.

‘He’s my brother.’

He was Redden.

Yes, he was trembling in his younger form now, but he was certain. He was his brother, born and raised.

However, none of that held any significance for Carlisle.

This was the same man who had torn his mother and father to pieces. He didn’t harbor brotherly feelings for him.

Carlisle smiled bitterly at the recollection.

Redden. He was once his kin’s closest companion.

He was the elder brother who used to bring him the occasional rabbit or pheasant when he was ostracized from the pack, living alone in the corner and subsisting on bugs.

Nonetheless, their bond grew strained because, at times when he was too afraid to let his guard down, Redden would taint the food he brought him as if he had been anticipating his arrival.