Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 62
Through her chaotic thoughts, a voice intruded,
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got so excited I forgot to control my strength. Humans are so fragile—it’s easy to forget. Are you okay? You’re not dying, are you?”
Hansel gasped for breath, lifting her upper body as she turned to look back at the man. Her vision was blurred with tears, making the figure indistinct—he was just a dark smear on a snowy-white canvas, like watercolors bleeding on wet paper.
A deep brown silhouette against a pure white background.
Not Dante.
“Ah, you’re not her. I thought you were because your back looks exactly the same. Are red clothes trendy among humans these days? Jeez. I got my hopes up for nothing.”
The lowered tone of his voice jolted Hansel’s senses as if she’d been doused with cold water. Her vision sharpened, and the figure before her came into focus.
Blue-tinged black hair—familiar somehow, though she couldn’t immediately place where she’d seen it before. His eyes were bright gold, like the piercing gaze of a predator—a tiger or wolf. From his thick black eyebrows to the sharp angles of his jawline, his features formed a ruggedly handsome face that screamed masculinity.
Hansel glared at him with a fierce determination, her eyes narrowing.
“You almost killed me, and that’s your attitude?”
“Humans are bold these days. You’re not even a mage, yet you dare look me straight in the eye. Do you have something to fall back on, you little runt?”
His growl, paired with a bared-tooth snarl, was enough to make anyone’s knees tremble.
Hansel, however, clamped her mouth shut. He was intimidatingly large, rivaling Dante in stature. But his arms and thighs were even bulkier. A man like him could easily snap her neck with one hand.
And yet, oddly, he didn’t frighten her.
Compared to her first encounter with Dante, this felt like a minor inconvenience. Dante’s bloodlust had been suffocating and needle-sharp, stabbing into her skin. By comparison, the man before her seemed more like an irritated beast.
Besides, he’d already handed her a weapon—he’d given away critical information. Letting slip who he was looking for meant she could use it against him. For someone with such an imposing physique, he didn’t seem particularly clever.
Hansel tilted her chin upward defiantly, feigning fearlessness.
“You said the woman you’re looking for is wearing clothes similar to mine. She might be someone I know. Judging by how eagerly you picked me up, she must be important to you. What if she’s a friend of mine? How are you going to explain treating me like this?”
“A friend?”
“Yeah. As you said, how else could someone as small as me wander around alone without a care? I must have someone I can rely on. If she’s my friend, others might already be looking for me, too.”
Hansel planted her hands on the snow-covered ground, pushing herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled unsteadily beneath her, making her stumble slightly as she stood.
The man tilted his head, a small scoff escaping his lips.
“Well, let’s find out. Are you just a quick-witted human trying to save your neck by lying to me, or not?”
He slowly raised an empty hand.
Suddenly, he brought his long fingers to his eye, swirling them in a deliberate, spiral motion. The peculiar gesture made Hansel frown in confusion.
“You. Have you seen a woman around here with eyes as big as beans?”
Hansel’s expression froze.
That’s me. He’s talking about me. The one wearing those stupid glasses enchanted for night vision.
“Why are you looking for her…?”
“She’s my type.”
The man pulled something from the inside pocket of his leather coat. Hansel couldn’t believe her eyes.
[ Ten Billion S****l Desires and Realities: Madame Virginia Johnson’s Practical Study on S****l Techniques ]
“I want to take her as my mate.”
He smiled brightly, flashing his perfectly white teeth.
“……”
A cold wind swept across the snowy ground, whistling eerily. Hansel’s cloak fluttered weakly in the breeze, her platinum-blonde hair dancing alongside it.
The icy air bit at her cheeks as Hansel fought to hold on to her reason.
This man. He’s the werewolf.
The coin she’d used as a marker, the book in his hand, the bean-sized glasses for night vision—only one person could know about all of this.
“A woman who’s studied s*x so thoroughly she wrote a book about it… She must be absolutely amazing in bed.”
