Chapter 2 The Cub

"

"Grr!!" The cub kept on growling, trying to drive away this dangerous intruder. His instincts told him that this intruder was very powerful and dangerous.

He had to protect his mother well.

"Grr grrr grrrr!!" He growled more intensely, perhaps threatened by the scent of his kind. The soft black hair on both sides of his head twitched, and suddenly two furry black wolf ears popped out. Still a cub, those ears were tiny and short.

Those were not the ears a pure human should have.

"Grr..." The cub's growl instantly cut off after one brief syllable. He had also sensed something, hurriedly raising his chubby hands to cover his ears.

Afraid of being seen, even more afraid his mother would see.

He thought she hadn't seen before.

He had realized early on that he was different from other people.

Being different from others in this world was wrong.

He seemed to be a little monster.

He covered his small ears with his hands, stuck out his butt, and burrowed into the quilt, but his pure black little tail was still exposed outside.

Not a very clever move.

Lyra finished her conversation with the man outside and came into the room. Seeing Tristan standing at the doorway, she frowned deeply and strode over.

What tristan saw next was the little guy on the bed growing even more flustered. He thrashed about under the quilt, using all his feeding strength to try pulling his tail and ears back in.

Tristan started speaking: "Open your mouth and take three deep breaths."

He was teaching the cub.

The little one froze for a moment, then seemed to follow along, making his little tail behind him vanish in an instant.

Right then Lyrqi arrived at the door. She lowered her voice: "Mr. Ambrose, the child's sleeping. Don't wake him, he's unwell."

As she spoke, she glanced into the bedroom.

She saw a small lump under the quilt, nothing like a sleeping person's shape.

"Sweetie, you're awake?" Her eyes lit up as she walked in, "Feeling better? Still uncomfortable?"

The little guy's doughy face emerged from the quilt. His face was even redder drenched in sweat, from panicking and holding his breath just now.

The sight pierced lyrai's heart. She widened her eyes in alarm and threw herself over, hands shaking as she felt her son's little face, "What's going on? Is it another high fever?" We're going to the hospital. I'm taking you to the hospital."

It had been half a month. Going to the hospital was useless too.

Clearly fever symptoms, yet each doctor said nothing was wrong. They went to over a dozen hospitals to no avail.

Some doctors even doubted her mental state.

Said there was absolutely nothing wrong with her son.

She knew better than anyone that her precious child was sick.

Yet she was helpless, unable to endure the pain for him. Every night the pain from bone development would leave her young son drenched in sweat, clinging onto her hand with his tiny body. It hurt him so much.