The guild hall was warm and loud as always. Adventurers filled the tavern-like interior, their laughter booming over clinking mugs and rattling dice. But as I stepped through the doors, with Yelena at my side, the noise dimmed. Dozens of eyes fell on us.
I heard the whispers.
"A beast girl?"
"Did he… tame that?"
"No way. Max? The weak link?"
I kept my head down. For once, I didn't care.
The receptionist, a kind woman named Marian, looked up in surprise as I approached the desk. Her eyes lingered on Yelena—towering now in her Fenrir form, her silver ears flicking curiously, her golden gaze sharp as firelight.
"Max… what happened to your party?"
I clenched my fists. "…They abandoned me in a dungeon. Left me for dead."
Marian's eyes widened. "That's… that's against guild code. I'll report it to the guild master immediately."
She leaned closer, her voice softer. "Do you want to remain registered under that party?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm done with them. I want to form a new one."
She nodded, sliding me the parchment. "What name?"
I thought for a moment, glancing at Yelena. Her tail swished slowly as she studied the room, shoulders squared, every muscle tensed as though ready to attack anyone who looked at me wrong.
"…Silent Riot."
Marian raised a brow, then smiled faintly. "Strong name. It's official."
The parchment sealed, stamped with the guild's insignia. A new beginning.
By the time Yelena and I reached my small house on the outskirts of town, the sun was low. I hadn't been here in months, maybe longer. It was modest—just two rooms and a hearth—but it was clean, neat, and quiet. My sanctuary.
I pushed open the door, the scent of wood and herbs greeting me. "It's not much, but it's home."
Yelena stepped inside, ears twitching as she scanned the place. Her tail brushed the floor, slow but steady. "It's… warm."
I lit the hearth and began preparing dinner—just stew with bread, but the smell filled the space comfortingly. Yelena sat nearby, her golden eyes following me intently, like a wolf watching its prey. Only this time, I wasn't prey.
"Go ahead and wash up," I told her. "There's a shower in the back."
She tilted her head. "Shower?"
I blinked. "…You've never had one?"
Her ears drooped slightly. "Never had a home. Never had… this."
For a moment, the weight of her past pressed heavy in the room. Then I smiled gently. "Well, you do now. Go on. You deserve it."
Her eyes softened, and she disappeared into the back room. The sound of water running soon followed.
When she returned, her silver hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, she sat down across from me. Steam curled from the bowls I set out.
We ate in silence at first. But then Yelena spoke, her tone hesitant. "Max… do you have a wife?"
I nearly choked on my stew. "A wife? No. Why would you ask that?"
She leaned forward, eyes sharp, almost accusing.
"You cook. You care. You're kind. Any woman would want you."
I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're overestimating me. I don't think any woman would be interested in a useless beast tamer like me."
The air grew tense. Yelena's ears flattened, her tail thumped hard against the floor. Her voice dropped, low and trembling with anger.
"Don't say that."
I blinked at her sudden ferocity. Her eyes burned as she gripped the edge of the table, claws digging into wood.
"You're not useless. You're strong. You're wonderful. You… you saved me. You're the only one who ever cared. Don't you dare belittle yourself like that again."
Her intensity stole the breath from my lungs.
I swallowed hard, then nodded. "…Thank you, Yelena. I needed to hear that."
Her anger melted into relief. Her tail wagged slowly, her lips curling into a small, tender smile.
"You're welcome," she whispered.
We finished dinner, the quiet between us no longer heavy but warm.
That night, as I lay in bed, I heard Yelena pacing the other room, restless. And though I couldn't see her, I felt it—the bond between us pulsing, her devotion burning hotter than fire.
I had no idea yet how deep it would go.