The Wolf Girl's Secret Box

Chapter4

Edren slept terribly, haunted by a nightmare about a wolf that wouldn’t stop taking selfies. When he woke up in the morning, he was so shocked he barely recognized himself in the mirror. Huge dark circles hung under his eyes, making him look like a giant panda at the zoo.

Worse still, the yard was still a mess. As he picked up debris from the lawn with his iron tongs, Edren felt disheartened, wondering if turning sixteen was really as great as he’d imagined.

“What’s wrong, Edren? You look absolutely exhausted,” Catherine said, concerned for her eldest son. She handed him a delicious sandwich and a sunny-side-up egg she’d made.

Edren took the breakfast and chewed noisily. “Nothing, just a bit overexcited.” He denied it quickly. There was no way he’d admit he’d spent the whole night dreaming about the taciturn Olivette and his transformation into a wolf.

“Well, I’m not going to worry about you then. The neighbor invited me shopping. Can you handle the rest of the trash?” Catherine still sounded uncertain.

Edren waved his iron tongs with one hand, signaling it was no trouble. “Absolutely no problem, I promise. Enjoy your weekend.”

Catherine hugged his head, planted a firm kiss on his forehead, then tucked her little purse into her pocket and cheerfully headed out the door.

Edren wasn’t quite “absolutely no problem” as he’d claimed. In truth, he’d been listless all day. His mind was filled with images of black wolves in all shapes and forms, and he kept yawning, looking even more tired.

At dinner, Alec secretly swiped a prawn from his bowl, and Edren didn’t even notice. This was highly unusual.

“If you’re not feeling well, go to bed early,” Fermoson suggested.

“You should listen to your father,” Catherine agreed. She’d had a productive day and felt much better than her eldest son.

“Alright.” Edren didn’t argue; he did need rest. After dinner, he went straight to his room, intending to sleep early.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he saw the carved wooden box once more.

“This is a magical box. Put something inside and see?”

He remembered the note that had come with it. As if compelled by some unseen force, he lifted the lid again. He didn’t know why he was doing this. Before his mind could process it, his hand had already moved. His subconscious simply wanted to act.

He removed the wolf statue and replaced it with something else. It was still a gift from Olivette—a hand-woven necklace adorned with a sharp fang. She’d given it to him four years ago when they first met, as a token of their encounter. Judging by the design, it had probably been meant for a girl at the time.

Sleep overtook him swiftly, his eyelids heavy. Before consciousness faded, the last thought to cross Edren’s mind was—Surely I won’t have that kind of dream again?

His gaze followed the figure rolling endlessly across the floor for what felt like an eternity. Only then did Edren realize he was dreaming again.

Slowly approaching the figure, he strained to make out its face. He couldn’t believe it—he was dreaming of Olivette from years ago, still a child. The pain twisted the young face into a grimace, yet the distinctive features made him instantly recognizable.

Little Olivette kept clutching his mouth, muffled groans escaping as he rolled from one end of the floor to the other. His white T-shirt was covered in dust, making him look utterly miserable. It felt like an eternity before an adult finally appeared at the doorway, discovering this pitiful little boy suffering from a toothache.

The adult dashed over, scooped the child up, and placed him on the sofa. Covering him with a blanket, he gently touched his forehead while dialing several numbers with his free hand.

Soon, a doctor arrived with a medical kit, accompanied by several other adults.

People gathered around the boy, their eyes reflecting both anxiety and anticipation. Though tension hung in the air, they didn’t seem overly concerned about little Olivette’s condition, as though his illness was expected.

Edren moved closer, catching fragments of their conversation.

“Finally losing a baby tooth.”

“You’re growing up, little Oli.”

“Has he been in pain for too long?”

“Don’t worry, it’s normal. He’ll be fine soon.”

As the doctor extracted Little Olivette’s tooth, he spoke words Edren couldn’t quite grasp: “The canine tooth falling out signals the first transformation. Olivette’s tooth-shedding phase came a bit late, so the wolf form might persist for quite some time. If anything happens, please notify me immediately.”

Transformation? Wolf form? Was this a continuation of yesterday’s dream? Edren was utterly baffled.

The living room echoed with various clattering noises until a milky-white fang landed on the stainless steel tray. With a clang, the entire world seemed to hit pause. Everyone present instinctively held their breath, as if awaiting something.

All eyes were fixed on Olivette. They surrounded him, and Edren wanted to know what was happening, to push through and see, but he couldn’t manage it.

Finally, the stillness was broken by a faint whimper, like that of a puppy. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Someone lifted the blanket wrapped around Olivette, revealing—a palm-sized, sparsely furred puppy (or wolf?). People took turns teasing it until an elderly woman finally carried it upstairs.

“Enough, he needs rest,” the old woman scolded, her voice betraying unhidden delight.

Edren sat where little Olivette had lain, but now the spot was empty, devoid of any presence.

Edren couldn’t accept it.

Even if this was a dream, it was the most bizarre dream he’d ever had. He stared at the coffee table—where a stainless steel tray sat, holding the bloodied canine tooth lying still within it.

Just like in that earlier dream, the air before him rippled like water once more. Through the haze, the canine tooth was lifted from the tray and placed into a glass jar. The blood slowly dried, seeping into the uneven cracks on the surface. The tooth lay still at the bottom of the jar until a slender, wheat-colored hand picked it up.

It was Olivette, visibly grown taller, yet still bearing traces of youth between his brows. Gone was the disheveled look of toothache; his T-shirt was neatly ironed and spotless. He removed the fang, carefully wiped away the dust, and began polishing it with various tools.

His expression was so earnest, as if the object in his hands were priceless. Afternoon sunlight spilled over his dark, tousled hair, dancing across his lashes. Sweat trickled down his nose, dropping onto the back of his hand.

By evening, he had finally completed his work—a black braided necklace. The ivory fang hung at its center, surrounded by colorful stones. The design was simple yet beautiful—if it weren’t meant for him, Edren thought.

Edren recognized the necklace. Yes, it was the women’s necklace meant as a meeting gift, the very one he’d placed in the wooden box before bed.

What an utterly absurd dream.

After boarding the commuter train, Edren, unusually, neglected his appearance. He tossed his backpack aside, chose a window seat in the least crowded section, and leaned his head against the glass, lost in thought.

Alec sat diagonally across from him, occasionally glancing his way. But Edren’s mind was already miles away.

He was still thinking about that tooth.

The dream had felt so real that Edren could still smell the faint scent of blood in the air. A necklace made from a shed canine tooth—the thought made him feel inexplicably queasy.

All the way there, his thoughts drifted between bizarre questions: “Was it sterilized?” “Would it attract maggots?” “Does it even look washed?” He was completely oblivious to the pink bubbles floating in the girls’ eyes. This distracted state lasted until he entered the classroom and saw the culprit.

Olivette, the culprit, was slumped over his desk, his head tilted as he stared out the window, lost in thought. His aura of aloofness made him stand out starkly from his surroundings.

Edren stared at him, a lump forming in his throat that felt stifling and unbearable. He couldn’t fathom what had possessed him—his brain must have been waterlogged at the time—and looking back, he admired his own audacity for daring to challenge Olivette. But it was too late.

Back then, Edren had shown no hesitation. He’d walked straight up to Olivette and kicked his desk hard. The desk scraped across the floor with a shrill screech. A black fountain pen rolled off the edge and snapped in two on the floor.

All eyes turned to him. Edren ignored the stares, a stark departure from his usual polite demeanor, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less.

Olivette looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it vanished quickly, replaced by his usual expression—not a single unnecessary emotion.

This version of Olivette was far more infuriating.

“Ugh, my apologies,” Edren shrugged, his apology dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to bump your desk, Olivette.”

Olivette briefly reviewed his actions over the past few days, finding nothing that could have offended Edren. He sat up straight, considering whether to respond.

Before he could speak, Edren walked away. He’d never intended to listen to Olivette anyway. He made his desk and chair creak loudly, expressing his displeasure. And he was still fuming, though he didn’t quite understand what he was angry about.

In short, anyone could tell Edren was in a terrible mood today. A few girls exchanged glances and unanimously decided not to bother him for now.

During break, they gathered together for a private discussion.

“What happened?”

“Not sure. Did he fall out with that weirdo from the Hoxen family?” someone asked.

“They were never friends to begin with.”

“Anyway, little Edren never liked that guy,” another pointed out the key point. “It’s time to teach him a lesson.”

The others nodded in agreement.