LOGINThe first pale light of dawn seeps through the slats of my office blinds, painting thin lines across the carpet. I stand at the window, pulling back the edge of the blinds to watch the city wake beneath me. The streets are quiet, peaceful—unaware of the betrayal I've uncovered through the night. My
The evidence glows on my screen like a digital confession, but it's not enough. I need more—something concrete, something undeniable. My fingers move across the keyboard with deliberate precision, each keystroke a small act of vengeance. The wolf in me wants blood, wants to tear through the building
The light from my computer screen casts blue shadows across my office, the only illumination besides the small desk lamp I've angled away from the door. My body aches with the recent memory of transformation, muscles still remembering a different shape, but my mind is sharp, honed by suspicion and t
By the time I reach the final button, my breathing has steadied. My reflection in the cracked mirror shows a woman reassembling herself piece by careful piece. The scratches at my collarbone will be hidden by the high neckline. The shadows under my eyes can be concealed with makeup. The wildness in
The crisp trousers slide over my legs, covering the scratches and bruises that map last night's journey. The fabric whispers against my skin, a language of civilization, of humanness, of control. I smooth nonexistent wrinkles from the material, a ritual of normalcy that grounds me in this form, in t
Lucas in the park that night weeks ago, his silhouette backlit by streetlamps as I completed my transformation in the shadows, thinking myself unseen. His strange calm when he approached, as if finding a colleague hunched and feral among the trees was nothing extraordinary. Lila noticing my monthly
The final confirmation comes in the shape of a hidden file, a false-bottomed drawer, a false life. Derek’s private study is full of shadows, of secrets, of quiet deceit. The storm drums against the windows like a warning, like an omen, like the edges of what I know to be true. I begin my search with
Lucas waits, waits with his dark eyes, with his impossible calm, with his impossible certainty, with his impossible presence. He waits, and I don’t know what to do, what to do with him, what to do with myself. I wait, too, wait for him to change, wait for him to go, wait for him to go and leave an
He has stayed, and it is impossible. He has stayed, and I don’t know what to do, don’t know how to be, don’t know how to hold this. My mind races with the awareness of his presence, with the awareness of the threat, with the awareness of the risk. It races with the awareness of him, of him, of hi
The need is a low growl beneath my breath, beneath the tangle of my thoughts, beneath the surface of the glass, beneath the surface of the world. The low growl is more than I can hold, more than I can keep, more than I can be. The unsteady pressure of my own pulse is unbearable. The raw and jagged







