Are you enjoying the story so far? If you think my stories are worth reading, please share them with others as well. Also, don’t forget to check out my other story “Neighbors.” It’s not a werewolf story, but I have a feeling you might still enjoy it. The best thing about it (well, other than Ariana and Samuel, I might be a little biased toward my characters 😅) is that it’s complete! So you can binge-read it all at once. Samuel Davis is a hardworking and compassionate doctor who loves doing his job. His life is about to take a turn when an artist will become his new next-door neighbor and will give him a glimpse of the life he always wished to have. Will this new neighbor be able to add more colors to his life? Or will turn his somewhat steady life upside down?
LucasOutside, the air feels cooler, sharper, like it knows we’re crossing a line we can’t uncross.I feel her shiver, just once, before she leans into me. My arm finds her without thought, pulling her in until her head rests against my shoulder. She fits there like she’s meant to. Like she’s always belonged.The world fades, blurring at the edges. There are people around us, I know that much. Engines hum, someone shouts an order, a door slams, but all of it turns into nothing more than background static. Because of her. She is like that mute button, that wasn't there in my life earlier... when she is with me other things go silent.Her hair brushes my jaw when the wind picks up. Her scent almost makes me want to press my nose in her hair and fill my lungs with her scent.Her breath comes a little uneven, still catching from everything that just happened. But she looks up at me anyway, and there’s something in her eyes that hits harder than any bullet ever could.My wolf stirs, quiet
LucasArthur Blake stands like a man used to being obeyed, not questioned. The kind of man whose silence carries more weight than most people’s words. His men flank him in perfect alignment, every step and pause matching his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s too precise to be coincidence. Too practiced to belong to regular security.I’ve seen bodyguards before.These men aren’t that. They move like they’ve been trained somewhere that doesn’t give out business cards. Their eyes never settle. They track corners, exits, reflections. I can almost hear the calculations in their heads.Arthur’s not any better at pretending to be ordinary. Millionaires usually have a softness to them, a certain detachment from danger. He doesn’t. His stillness feels military. The way he assesses the room, the small tilt of his head when one of his men shifts position, it’s all control, all command. He doesn’t just hire protection. He leads it.There’s something darker under that polished ext
AuroraTime slows to a cruel crawl, and all I can do is watch in frozen horror as he pulls the trigger. The sound is deafening, echoing through the café again and again until it drowns out everything else. My chest feels hollow, my world tilts, and I can barely breathe. He doesn’t even look at me. He just keeps shooting until there are no bullets left, his face cold and unreadable.The silence that follows is louder than the gunfire. My knees feel weak, and my vision blurs. Then, out of nowhere, a strong hand grips my arm and pulls me up. My tears finally break free, rolling down my cheeks when I see who it is. Lucas. He’s standing right in front of me, very much alive.He wraps an arm around my shoulders, steady and firm, holding me close. I can feel his heartbeat against my side, calm and even, as if nothing just happened. His face gives away nothing. His eyes, though, are locked on Dad, unflinching.When James rushes to my side, Lucas lets him take me. James pulls me toward Dad, and
AuroraMy fingers clutch the fabric of Lucas’s shirt so tightly that my knuckles ache. The soft cotton is warm beneath my grip, stretched taut across his back as his muscles coil like steel beneath it. He is completely calm and in control, while fear burns in my throat, thick and suffocating. It paralyzes my thoughts for one awful moment, something that has never happened before. But I refuse to let it win.Not when he’s standing in front of me, shielding me with his body as if he can take on the entire world alone.Tears sting my eyes, hot and useless, but I blink them away and force myself to inhale slowly. Air. Focus. Control.I need to think.Think, Aurora. Think.My gaze darts around the café, taking in every possible detail. The tables are overturned, chairs splintered and scattered like bones. A spilled cup of coffee glistens on the tiles, a dark mirror to the chaos. Behind the counter, a barista crouches, her hands trembling around her phone as she tries to dial something, so
AuroraI should look away. I tell myself to, but I can’t. The magnetic pull between us is too strong, threading through the air, invisible yet unbreakable. My fingers twitch against my lap, my heart pounding like it wants to reach for him. I feel helpless under the weight of his stare, yet somehow powerful, like I have just discovered a secret the universe never meant me to know.I always felt that Lucas was someone who had stepped straight out of fiction. Because otherwise, how could he be so perfect? The way he walks, the way his voice dips just enough to make your stomach flip, the way he smiles like he knows something you don’t, none of it feels real. He can’t be real.But now… I am starting to believe that maybe he isn’t like everyone else. There is something about him, something that sets him apart, something that hums beneath the surface. I can feel it. The world around him feels different, like reality bends a little just to make space for him.And maybe that’s what scares me t
AuroraThis cannot be my imagination or some random coincidence. My instincts are never wrong, and right now they are screaming that something unusual is happening.But how could Lucas possibly hear me?I bite my lower lip, pretending to stare blankly ahead while my eyes stay fixed on him through the café window. He sits there, calm and composed, sipping his coffee as if the world is at peace. His gaze stays lowered, his movements measured. But I know what calm looks like, and I know what pretending looks like too.And Lucas… he is pretending.“Lucas,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath, my lips moving so slightly that it feels like I am speaking only to my own reflection in the glass. “You can hear me, right?”He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look up. The idiot bacon sits perfectly still, pretending nothing happened. But I see it, the faint tick in his jaw, the quick twitch of his lips, the kind that only shows when someone is holding something in.Got you, honey buns.A slow grin creeps ont