Chapter 122: Great, It Was Just a Dream

Ulysses' bedroom hadn't changed much, except for the messy bed. The closer Falcóna got to the jumbled heap of blankets, the faster her heart raced. If she guessed right, the folder she was looking for should be in there. Taking a deep breath, she reached out towards the messy bed. People always get scared when they're close to the truth, afraid of what they might find out. Fear of what they think, fear of how they'll face it. Finally, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the blanket, shaking it a few times. But there was nothing, not even a single hair of hers, let alone the folder. With the bed uncovered, she sighed in relief, laughing at herself for believing in a dream that was so unreal and ridiculous. She was glad it was just a dream; Ulysses wasn't really a werewolf. It wasn't long before Ulysses came in, steam rising from his body, his black hair still wet, giving him a seductive and sinister look. He walked over to her, kissed her forehead, and sat beside her.