He’s a Fox Ch 60

Chapter 60

The woman entered with an armful of flowers. At the sight of the faded blond hair and vivid blue eyes, Hohyun immediately knew without introduction who she was—the other genetic half of the tiger siblings, and the wife of the old man who had disapproved of him from the start.

The dignified woman froze upon spotting a stranger in the room, eyes widening. Her husband, however, fidgeted with anxious hands at the flowers in her arms.

“You shouldn’t be carrying such heavy things. The boys should have done it.”

Passing the bouquet smoothly into his hands, she looked up with a gentle exclamation.

“My, a guest has come?”

Unlike Jaegwon’s stiff welcome, Sarah’s gaze lit warmly upon the young fox seated nervously beside her children. Though she had married into the powerful Eastern clan decades ago, she had been raised in the West—where foxes were far less maligned. Thus, no prejudice stained her expression.

Her eye was not on the youth’s species at all, but on the company he kept. Her daughter curled snug against his chest and her son standing close by—signs enough of trust. For Yuri perhaps it was nothing unusual, she was happy to cling to those she liked. But the stoic, unyielding Kangwoon by her side? That was unexpected.

The woman approached, offering her hand.

“I am Sarah Luntie,” she said, smiling softly. “Mother of these two tigers.”

“Y-Yes. I’m Ye Hohyun,” the fox stammered, hurriedly taking her hand.

Her eyes curved in a warm laugh. “When Yuri said she was bringing a friend, I expected she’d come home with a puppy. Never dreamed a young man like you would arrive.”

Awkward laughter escaped him. Truly, none of them had expected things would play out this way.

It was midday, and the family moved together for lunch. As protocol dictated, none touched their chopsticks until the eldest had lifted his. But before food, Jaegwon’s voice cut in, unable to restrain himself.

“Your parents. They are both foxes?”

An inappropriate start, but Hohyun replied before Kangwoon could intervene.

“My father is a dog beastman.”

“Ah. Then the black hair is from him?”

“Yes, sir…”

“Mm. No wonder you seem so dutiful.”

At the word dog, the patriarch’s face at last cracked into a nod of approval. The fox understood quickly. Among certain elders, the dog lineage was extolled for loyalty and fidelity.

Quiet, persistent, steadfast—that was his second brother personified. Perhaps he should behave in the same way. And so, instead of chatter, he focused on tending to Yuri. At once Jaegwon’s stern visage softened, fleeting smile ghosting across. Enough to let the fox breathe easier.

But then the patriarch’s gaze dropped to his worn jeans, mildly scratched. His brow twitched.

“…Did my son not pay you your wages?”

“Sir?”

“What era is this, yet you wear rags?”

Tongue clicking reproach, his eyes zeroed in on the fox’s jeans. Hohyun barely realized what was happening before Jaegwon had already withdrawn his wallet, plucking out thick sheaves of white checks.

The fox blanched pale. This “pocket money” was enough to live on for years. He had to refuse—yet elders took refusal as insult. To offend now would undo all progress and plummet his “favorability.”

Truly, only fifteen percent was genuine appreciation. Eighty-five percent was a ploy to scold his son. Kangwoon knew it. Slipping his hand across the fox’s thigh under the table, he tapped lightly: Just take it.

With mouth dry, the fox finally extended both hands, bowing. “Thank you, sir…”

Sarah’s laughter rang, seeing her husband’s satisfaction.

Thus, aside from this small heart-stopper, lunch passed warm and lively. But all meals must end—and parting loomed.

“Stay next time. Don’t leave so early, it saddens me,” Jaegwon murmured to his youngest daughter.

“I’m busy,” Kangwoon interjected flatly.

“Not you! I meant our princess!”

Clumsy interruption or not, Yuri sealed farewell with a pinky-swear promise.

On the drive home, the cub drowsed safely against the fox’s chest. Kangwoon kept his eyes trained on them both—ready should the fox stumble burdened. Watching, Sarah caught her son’s eye, halting him.

“Son. A word.”

“…Go to the car first,” Kangwoon said.

Cradling Yuri, Hohyun dutifully obeyed. Separated by the glass window, the fox could not make out their hushed tones—but the gravity on Sarah’s face, and the way the tiger’s expression darkened, unsettled him. Was that… did I just hear the word “marriage” slip out?

Uncertain, his heart lurched. He hadn’t even confessed—and yet already felt cornered.

The great gate came into view just as tires slid silent across polished stone. A new car had arrived—windows so black-tinted no glimpse of interior. The door opened, and from the shadows stepped another great tiger.

So like Kangwoon in stature and face they could be mistaken for twins. Only eyes, cold and blue, distinguished him.

Familiarity struck immediately. Kangwoon’s lips curled in a growl, deep and low. Opposite, the Beom family’s eldest daughter—Taeryeong—watched her brother evenly.

Stark indifference in every line, jaw hard. Her eyes flicked, and pinned upon the fox’s vehicle—piercing though tinted glass hid him.

Inside, Yuri stirred. For the first time, the bold cub clung in unease, tiny fingers knotting the fox’s hand. His racing heart slowed beneath her trust.

Still, the child who once never feared boars or beasts now shrank silently into his arms. The fox turned deliberately, shielding her from the view.

When Kangwoon returned, he did not enter the back, but slid into the passenger’s seat beside them.

The fox gasped. Bright claw marks seared his cheek, raw enough that tender flesh showed beneath. He checked the cub instantly. Safe—still buried into his chest, she had not seen. Relief, then guilt.

Sensing the concern, Kangwoon brushed it off easily.

“This? Nothing. Just a scratch.”

But the fox knew—such gouges were no mere “scratch.” He could only sigh. Yet the tiger’s lips quirked to a smile.

“This much is nothing.”

Nonchalance. Defiance. No doubt he had already returned the blow.

Shrugging off his ruined jacket, the tiger draped it over Yuri, hiding both the wound from sight and the bitter memory of encounter. With a slow, steady hand, he patted her back. The deep rumble of his chest vibrated from her body straight into the fox’s own. Steady. Warm. Comforting.

The immediate threat gone, tension bled from him. He slumped, turning—accidentally meeting the tiger’s eyes at breathless distance. Eyes that close, heart hammering so loud he was sure predator ears must hear.

It was not even the human form this time. And yet, still, he was undone.

Once, he had feared tigers. And now—his chest threatened to burst with another, more dangerous thing.

Thus ended his first trip into the tiger’s den, leaving behind not only fear and confusion—but the bitter realization: his crush had reached its terminal stage.