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
I am the only shadow in the office, the only soul haunting the dim spaces. The rain is a secret I cannot hold; it taps out my betrayals in staccato against the glass. My breath comes as jagged as the papers on my desk. My pulse as uneven. I know he will find me. I know he will be here. And then he i
I connect the dates, and the lines, and the dots, and the signatures, and the signatures that are not mine, that are not mine. It fits together, and I fall apart. The sudden and harsh buzz of the phone shakes me from my thoughts, from my certainty, from my resolve. The sound is louder than it sh
I lock the study door behind me, and the soft click is a soft reminder of what is closed off, what is secure, what is certain. It echoes through the house, echoes through me, echoes in the parts of me that hurt and the parts of me that know. My footsteps are deliberate against the wooden floor, deli
My breathing comes too quick, too fast, too sharp, too raw. I can’t let myself slip, can’t let myself lose the parts of me that are still me. I can’t let myself lose control, but I do, but I do. I don’t have control, not of this, not of me. The truth of the betrayal is unbearable. I reach for







