Scaring off the ape tribe was only a temporary victory; the real problem was still ahead.

  Draven knew very well that the apes wouldn't give up just like that. They weren't scared off—they had gone to bring reinforcements.

  It wouldn't be long before those hairy fellows returned with their leader, and then the real conflict would begin.

  So before that happened, he had to act first and secure the claim.

  As long as he took the fox clan's allegiance first, even if a fight broke out later, he could explain it to Lord Selene.

  Acting under the pretense of protection always sounded better than outright kidnapping women.

  Just as he was about to turn around, a clear, crisp female voice suddenly sounded behind him:

  "From the Fire Fox Clan, Viola thanks the mighty Lord Wolf."

  "If not for your timely arrival, Viola and my clan would have surely lost their lives."

  Draven turned around, and Viola was already standing in front of him.

  She was a girl who looked about seventeen or eighteen, with delicate features and eyes as clear as mountain spring water.

  Her hair was bright red, cascading over her shoulders; her skin was as white as snow. Though her small face still bore the fatigue of a long escape, it did not diminish her charm.

  Her eyes were round and bright, now secretly glancing at Draven, as if appraising him or testing the waters.

  Her figure was slender, like a young vine in early spring, her animal-hide clothing tattered and barely covering the essentials.

  But her trembling fox tail could not be hidden—it swayed anxiously behind her.

  Draven's gaze swept over her and quickly noticed that though this fox girl named Viola was weak and frail, she carried a certain impressive aura. More importantly, she perfectly matched Draven's aesthetic taste.

  He sensed her aura—just a bloodline warrior—but she had led over a dozen little fox cubs out of the forest, which in itself proved some capability.

  Those little foxes huddled behind her, trembling like frightened rabbits.

  Besides Viola and two slightly older children, the rest were all little fox cubs around seven or eight years old.

  Looking at their pitiful state, Draven was genuinely curious how they managed to survive in this godforsaken place.

  He didn't rush to speak, simply watching quietly.

  Viola, under his gaze, grew flustered and uneasy. She could feel the wolfman openly staring at her, lingering too long on some embarrassing parts. She dared not look up, her ear tips already flushed red, so she forced herself to speak:

  "My lord, may we leave now?"

  Draven almost couldn't hold back a smirk at her words.

  Leave? Was she joking? Did she think he kindly protected them from the apes just to let them leave? Ask the readers here—would they agree?

  Draven put away his flippant expression and adopted a cold demeanor, his voice low and steady:

  "Why is the Fire Fox Clan here? Where are you planning to go?"

  Viola stole a glance at him, noticed his gaze fixed on her face, and quickly lowered her head.

  "Our clan was attacked by magical beasts. The leader and most of the elders died," she said softly, barely above a whisper.

  "The remaining elders protected us as we fled. We wanted to seek refuge with Lady Selene."

  "But many died along the way; now only a few of us remain."

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  By the end, Viola's eyes reddened, and her voice choked up. She lowered her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, but still couldn't stop the quiet sobbing.

  Her crying was not excessive, but the suppressed sadness was all the more moving.

  Draven watched as the fox ears atop her head trembled with her sobs and suddenly couldn't help himself—he reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

  The girl twitched as if electrocuted, startled like a frightened animal, stepping back a bit.

  But Draven had no intention of letting her retreat. Instead, he stepped forward, grabbed her chin, and slightly lifted it, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  "You want to take these little foxes and walk all the way to Selene City?" His tone was cold, his eyes sharp as blades. "Even if you make it, how do you plan to feed them?"

  He deliberately radiated a strong aura, like a wolf king ready to pounce.

  Viola was pinned down by that pressure, unable to move, struggle, or escape.

  And those two questions hit hard.

  She stared blankly at him, her mind only filled with the elders' last words: survive, and keep the children alive.

  But she also knew clearly she wouldn't hold out for long.

  Seeing her dazed expression, Draven's lips twitched into a subtle smirk. He softened his icy tone and said gently:

  "Come with me."

  "My team is heading to a new territory. It's large enough, with ample food and enough safety."

  "You and the children behind you will have a chance to survive there."

  Viola's eyes brightened for a moment at his words but quickly lowered again, falling into hesitation.

  Meeting for the first time, how could she possibly hand over the last surviving members of her clan to a stranger—a werewolf?

  Even if he had just saved their lives, what did that really prove? This world was too cruel; mere goodwill was not enough to survive.

  Before Viola could react, Draven released his grip on her chin and bent down, hoisting her onto his shoulder.

  "You're my captive now!" he said quietly, his tone resolute and leaving no room for argument.

  Viola gasped and struggled desperately, limbs flailing like a caught fawn twisting on his shoulder.

  The little foxes behind her were in complete chaos; a few timid ones had already started crying.

  Some of the older kids bared their teeth and growled lowly at Draven; others screamed and lunged forward, shouting, "Put down Sister Viola!"

  But Draven was unmoved. Suddenly, a suffocating aura erupted from him, like the cold breath of a beast about to strike.

  "Quiet! Or I'll slaughter them one by one right now." His voice was low, each word cutting the air like a blade, sending chills down the foxes' spines.

  Viola, who had been struggling, instantly stiffened, her voice choking out, "No, don't hurt them."

  Draven snorted lightly. "Then tell them to shut up and follow me."

  He strode out without caring how restless the girl on his shoulder was. Viola clutched her clothes over her chest with one hand, the other gripping his shoulder tightly.

  She lifted her head with difficulty, looking at her terrified clan members, forcing a stiff smile through her shame and grievance.

  "Listen to me, follow him quickly. He won't hurt you. He's a good man."

  "A good man?" Draven sneered and slapped the little fox girl's butt with a loud smack. "I'm no good man, but I can keep you alive."

  Viola let out a soft grunt of pain; her cheeks instantly flushed red, but she said nothing and lowered her head further.

  She knew if this werewolf really wanted to do something to her, she had no power to resist. The only thing she could do now was keep her clan safe.

  The little foxes behind her were at a loss. Should they follow? They were no match for that werewolf. But if they didn't chase after him, what would happen to Sister Viola? Cries broke out in waves, chaos everywhere.

  "Enough noise! Follow!" shouted a slightly older boy sharply. His features resembled Viola's somewhat, and his voice carried the courage and impatience unique to youth.

  The clan finally stopped crying and shouting. Seven or eight children stumbled after Draven, wiping tears and tightly holding hands, afraid someone might get left behind.

  "Put me down." The little fox girl on his shoulder spoke weakly but stubbornly repeated, "I'll go with you. I won't run."

  Draven ignored her, chuckled lowly, then suddenly changed his hold and pulled her into his arms. Her body was limp and almost weightless.

  Caught off guard, Viola reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her entire body against him.

  Her cheek was pressed to his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat. That strange and intense masculine scent sent tingles all over her body.

  Before she could react, Draven bent down and kissed her heavily on the cheek.

  "You're tired now. Stop struggling and rest a bit."

  Viola's face practically burned; she dared not look at him or speak, burying her head against his chest, wishing she could hide inside his embrace.

  But the closer she got, the more she felt that terrifying yet strangely comforting power emanating from him.

  Suddenly very sleepy, her vision darkened and her consciousness slowly blurred.

  Draven looked down and saw the little fox girl had actually passed out. He didn't worry much—probably just exhaustion and recent tension.

  He carried Viola, occasionally glancing back at the little foxes behind them and calling out for them not to fall behind.

  Fortunately, they were not far from his own group, and soon the whole party reunited.

  The werewolf group became restless upon seeing their leader return with a bunch of Fire Fox children, including an unconscious girl in his arms.

  The slaves whispered among themselves, careful not to cause trouble.

  But the trolls were less reserved, emitting eerie chuckles and making ambiguous remarks that anyone could understand.

  "Leader!" Bran shouted loudly, "Is that your mate you're bringing back? Or just spoils of war?"

  "A fox girl? Not bad at all!"

  "Are the she-wolves in our tribe really that bad?"

  "Get lost, don't scare them!" Rurik scolded as he shoved some onlookers aside.

  Draven watched their ruckus but didn't get angry; he just smiled broadly and said nothing.

  Viola slept soundly in his arms, her little face pressed against his chest.