Things started to change a month later.

Ethan's body temperature kept climbing. Sometimes, he would even shake all over. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of unsaid pain. Even his tail was hanging low, and he seemed to have lost his usual spirit.

I was getting especially anxious when I thought his wounds were infected or that he had caught something else, so I rushed him to the hospital in the middle of the night.

The doctor knew some common knowledge about werewolves. He frowned even more after he finished examining Ethan.

I nervously asked, "How is he, doctor? Are his wounds infected?"

The doctor shook his head. He stayed silent for a long time before he finally said, "He isn't sick."

"If he isn't sick, then why is he like this?" I became even more panicked. "It feels like his energy has left him completely. He has never been like this before."

The doctor pushed his glasses up and spoke slowly. "He is probably a Rogue who was cast out of his pack. Rogues prefer to be alone, but once they recognize someone as being close to them, they develop a strong need to bond. His fever and shaking come from wanting to mark you and form a bond with you. At the same time, he's afraid you will turn him down. That conflict makes him restless."

"Mark me?" I asked as I stared at the doctor as my mind went blank.

"That is correct," The doctor nodded. "A rogue has no pack to rely on, so he treats the one who saved him and took him in as his only family. His dependence on you is not like a simple master-servant bond. He wants to commit himself to you so that you belong only to each other. Think about how carefully he looks after you and how tense he gets around any man near you. All of that comes from that possessive instinct."

I stood there for a long time before I finally understood what Lisa had meant before.

Ethan's fever and his clinginess were all because he liked me and wanted a deeper bond. Yet I had been treating him like free help for housework, and I kept telling myself he was just shy and still sick because he was just exiled.

When we got home, Ethan was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His tail lay flat on the floor, and the tips of his ears showed through his hair. His eyes were full of guilt like a boy who had done something wrong.

"Ethan." My voice shuddered a little. "Do you... want to mark me?"

He stepped closer and nodded, his voice soft. "I feel awful."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"I was afraid you would hate me." He looked away from my eyes. "You brought me back to your home and took me in. I… I didn't want to make you upset."

My chest started to hurt.

He had felt that way for a whole month, but he forced himself to endure it because he was afraid of upsetting me. All that time, he kept the apartment clean and kept protecting me and taking care of me in silence.

"I'm sorry." I walked over and took his hand. "I was the one who didn't understand. I'm the one who made you suffer."

He lifted his head to look at me, with faint light in his eyes. His tail wagged slightly.

I spent a long time reading up on it before I finally understood what 'Marking' meant. A werewolf would bite the neck of the one close to him, leaving a mark that belonged only to him and build a bond between the two. Only then would his agitation ease.

I was nervous, but when I looked at Ethan's sorry expression, I gritted my teeth. "Let's do it. But… Be gentle."

Ethan stared at my neck.

He gulped.