Older Isn't Always Better

"Stop crying. I will make good on the promise I made before we left the castle.

"From now on, Evan will have three chances. If he picks another woman three more times, I will have to leave."

I would leave Evan for good, and he'd never find me again.

Inhaling deeply, I pushed open the door to the pub and was immediately met with awkward looks.

Evan released Hannah's hand. He shot up from his seat and took my hand instead.

"What brings you here?"

With the same hand he had touched Hannah with, he now tried to brush the hair from my forehead.

I flinched, and his hand froze mid-air. It was a little embarrassing.

Evan's friends immediately jumped in to speak up for him.

"Bella, you're finally here! Just now, Evan was telling us that you'd surely come looking for him."

"Right. Look! He's cut your favorite cheese for you. He's so in love with you."

"Yeah. He loves no one but you."

People always emphasized what they lacked.

Evan, at 17, knew that actions spoke louder than words. But he seemed to have forgotten this at 27.

Wearing a self-deprecating smile, I glanced at Hannah beside him.

She sported a head of glorious red hair, perfectly matching her passionate, open, and fiery nature—the very qualities that had taken Evan by storm.

Female werewolves seemed to have great bodies, but Hannah had the best body among all of Evan's werewolf girlfriends. My human body certainly wasn't attractive enough for Evan.

When Hannah met my gaze, she deliberately showed me where Evan had marked her. It looked like a fresh rose blooming after the rain.

Hannah stood up and approached me, holding a grass-infused rum special to the pack.

"I assume you're Evan's precious wife, aren't you? Hi, I'm Hannah Dixon. Want a drink to celebrate our first meeting?" She raised the glass of rum with a provocative look.

This was indeed our first encounter, but previously, I had spotted lipstick stains that weren't mine on Evan's clothes, as well as strands of red hair that had been purposely hidden in his pockets.

I did not accept the drink. Smiling softly, I complimented her, "Ms. Dixon, you have a great body. I'm sure many male werewolves are pursuing you."

She laughed loudly before pulling the strap of her top off her shoulder to reveal half of her bosom.

"Thanks for the compliment, Ms. Castillo. Yours is pretty alright too."

She shrugged at me before pressing her ample bosom against Evan's arm.

"Since you and I admire each other, why don't you drink with me?"

I looked at Evan. "What do you think?"

He cast me a troubled look.

"Evan, I just want to befriend Ms. Castillo. That's all. I've diluted the drink with some mineral water. It won't affect her in any way," Hannah persuaded him.

Evan hesitated. A conflicted look flashed across his eyes.

Then, he looked at me and began tentatively, "Dear, why don't you—"

I took the glass of rum from Hannah as I stared at him silently.

The 17-year-old Evan next to me hurriedly stopped me.

"Bella, you're a human! You can't consume werewolf drinks, or you'll die!"

The grass-infused rum was concocted with a plant only found in their pack. Werewolves who consumed that drink would enjoy a boost in stamina. However, humans might develop an allergic reaction after consuming the drink. Worse, it might lead to death by suffocation.

Ever since Evan and I stayed on the werewolves' territory, he kept such alcohol out of our castle. Not only that, he ordered the alcohol to be banned from his entire family, so that I wouldn't mistakenly consume it.

But his older self had forgotten about that risk.

I smiled and raised my glass to Hannah.

"Evan, this shall be my first."

When the bitter alcohol glided down my throat, tears nearly rolled down my cheek from the irritating effect.

Evan's younger self had gone from worried to feeling sorry for me. Then, he looked guilty.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

I thought, "Evan, it's fine. I could give love, and I could take it back too."

After I downed the alcohol, everyone in the room started to get loud and merry.

Evan held my waist. I did not struggle to break free; I sat by his side.

Everyone in the room started partying, while I stared at the ground in silence, thinking, "Evan, you have two more chances."