Quite the opposite. Customers loved my work.
I'd originally opened the shop just to scrape by, but the praise for my coffee and cooking was almost overwhelming. People raved about my brews and happily devoured every dish I made. Their tips were far more generous than I'd expected—enough that I never had to worry about living expenses again.
Everything I had now was precious happiness to me. But this happiness depended on hiding my werewolf identity. Over thesefour years of living in human territory, I'd become acutely aware of how terrifying the hunters' pursuit of werewolves really was.
I'd heard they tracked wolves relentlessly with their hounds. Even wolves living within packs were sometimes hunted, let alone a lone wolf like me who'd lost pack protection. I didn't want to lose my current life.
But figuring out how to reject Frank without hurting him was a major challenge.
Because he was the only son of the Goldens.
And the Goldens had saved my life four years ago.
I still remembered that night when I'd been at the end of my rope and had lost all will to live. Driven by my last survival instinct, I'd escaped the sanatorium with no idea where to go. I'd gone out the back door looking for a way out, only to find a steep cliff. Staring down at the rushing river below, a dark thought had surfaced.
If I was destined to die, I wanted the water to carry me away. Far from this grim sanatorium. Far from the emotions that had caused me so much pain.
I'd thought of Liv jumping into the sea all those years ago. I'd thought of Elias.
I no longer hoped for his love or trust, but I didn't want his hatred or misunderstanding either. I'd prayed to the Moon Goddess, willing to abandon all my feelings if only I could be reborn as a wolf running free through the wilderness.
Not as Elias's mate.
But the Moon Goddess apparently hadn't intended to let me die so easily.
I survived.
When I opened my eyes again, I realized I wasn't dead. I was lying in an unfamiliar bed. A gray-haired elderly woman sat beside me, gently wiping my forehead with a warm, damp towel.
Her kind eyes and gentle touch nearly made me cry, even though she was human, even though I should have been wary.
I later learned that her husband had found me half-dead by the river and brought me back to their home.
At that time, I hadn't wanted to speak. They never pressured me or asked about my identity or background. They simply took care of me in silence.
But I was still afraid of being discovered. I worried they'd notice my healing speed was faster than a human's and turn me over to hunters. So I'd tried to sneak away. But the elderly couple had anticipated my plan and blocked me at the front door.
I'd thought they were going to restrain me. But as I stood there, tense and frightened, Mrs. Golden simply took my hand, gently touched my cheek, and said something I never expected.
She said, "Stay. From now on, this is your home."
Home.
Something I'd never had among werewolves was given to me so easily by an elderly human couple.
The Goldens took me in for a year. During that time, I hid my identity while they taught me all kinds of skills—how to make coffee, how to cook delicious food…
Most importantly, living with them, I learned that humans and werewolves weren't really so different. There were good people and bad people among both.
Humans couldn't be defined by the single label of "hunter." They weren't all enemies of werewolves.
Not long after, the Goldens passed away from old age. Before they died, they left me everything they owned, including this house that I'd converted into a café.
They were my saviors. And now their son was proposing to me. It was truly a complicated situation.
"Listen, Frank. You don't really know me. Just like I don't really know you." I smiled at him, trying to let him down as gently as possible. "Before you came back to Tara, I didn't even know the Goldens had a son. We haven't known each other nearly long enough to talk about marriage."
During my time with the Goldens, they'd mentioned having a son but never talked about him.
