My Werewolf System -
Chapter 1638: The Hungry Wife
For Werewolves, food had always been more than simple nourishment, it was a constant battle that shaped their lives. Their bodies burned through energy with frightening efficiency, leaving them hungry far more often than any human could imagine. A normal meal would barely touch the edges of that hunger. They needed full slabs of meat, entire beasts if possible, simply to function. It was common knowledge among their kind that a starving Werewolf was a dangerous Werewolf. Many of the attacks recorded in the Kingdom’s history came not from malice or madness, but from sheer hunger pushing them into a frenzy.
Because of this, Galdark immediately knew something was wrong the moment Jack mentioned being afraid of Lily’s “food.” For a Werewolf, worrying about another’s appetite usually meant one thing, someone had crossed the threshold of hunger into something far more dangerous. Still, the way Jack had spoken, the tone in his voice, it didn’t match the usual problem. Galdark could feel it in his bones. This was something different. Something worse. And the pieces Lupus and Kai had hinted at... they were already forming a dark picture.
“She couldn’t eat anything,” Jack said, his voice subdued, as though each word scraped against memories he wished he could forget. “No matter what food she tried, she threw it all up. Even the meats she loved, she could keep them down for a few minutes, but the hunger only grew. And not normal hunger. Something deeper. A pain that twisted inside her stomach, like something was clawing at her from the inside.”
Jack stared down at his hands, fingers squeezing together tightly.
“Her body started to change,” he continued. “Her skin dried and tightened over her bones. Her hair fell out in clumps, her eyes grew wide and unfocused. She wasn’t my Lily anymore. She was... something else. Something I couldn’t understand.”
Galdark remained silent, letting Jack speak at his own pace.
“She clawed at the walls, at the floor, at me. I tried calming her, holding her, even speaking to her the way I always did, but it was like she couldn’t hear anything. She wasn’t thinking. Just reacting to the pain.”
Jack’s jaw tightened.
“I restrained her. It felt wrong, but I had no choice. She was strong, not as strong as me, but far stronger than a normal human. A few times she slipped out of my grip because I hesitated. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. And each time she broke free, she went for the door. If she made it outside...”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. Both men knew exactly what could happen.
“That’s when I realized I had to get her away,” Jack said softly. “If she harmed someone... Lily would never forgive herself. And if the Kingdom heard about it... they would try to eliminate the threat immediately.”
Galdark breathed out slowly. He could feel the weight Jack had carried entirely on his own. Maybe what Jack had said was a slight exaggeration, he was one of the Heros and to kill his wife before hearing him out was something they wouldn’t do without his blessing, but he understood that it had to be at the back of his mind at least.
“So I transformed,” Jack said, “restrained her as gently as I could, and took her to the forest outside the city. I only had the night to work with. Once the sun rose, she would be in agony again. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix any of it. I just knew I had to protect her.”
He looked toward the window, as though the memory still lingered there.
“When I let her go,” Jack said, “I braced myself for her to attack me. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned and sprinted deeper into the forest. Faster than I had ever seen her move. Faster than she should have been able to move.”
He swallowed.
“I followed, but I didn’t stop her. I needed to know what she was instinctively searching for. And then... I saw it.”
Jack’s voice grew quieter.
“A dead body. An adventurer. Someone unfortunate enough to fall to beasts or bandits. I wanted to pull her away, but... something inside me told me to wait. She knelt over the corpse, and I thought she would tear into the flesh like a starving animal.”
Galdark braced himself. He already knew the answer.
“But she didn’t,” Jack said. “She didn’t take a single bite. Instead... she drank the blood. Only the blood.”
Galdark’s chest tightened.
“When she finished,” Jack continued, “her body transformed again, but this time back to how she normally looked. Her skin regained its color. Her hair grew back. Even her eyes softened. She collapsed on the ground afterward, exhausted... but she was Lily again.”
Jack closed his eyes.
“I didn’t want to believe it at first. I kept telling myself it was something else. Some sickness. Some curse. Something temporary. But after it happened more than once... I couldn’t deny it anymore.”
He finally lifted his gaze to meet Galdark’s.
“She didn’t crave meat. Or normal food. She craved blood. Only blood could stabilize her. And when she didn’t have it... she changed into something feral. Something dangerous. Something that wasn’t her.”
Galdark could feel the truth settling heavily in the room.
“And so,” Jack said in a near whisper, “I tried giving her my own blood.”
His voice trembled for the first time.
“I didn’t know what else to do. She was my wife. The woman I swore to protect. If feeding her meant hurting myself... then that was a small price to pay.”
The burden Jack had carried alone was finally spoken aloud, and its weight pressed against both men with crushing force.
“However, things didn’t work out the way I had hoped.”
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