MasukThe 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 air hums with tension, alive with the sharp, uncontainable need of the full moon and the terrifying risk of being seen. Lucas stands close, too close, his eyes taking in everything, leaving nothing hidden. Nothing safe. I can’t escape the relentless pressure of his presence, the relentless push
The park is empty, a lonely expanse of wide-open danger beneath the glare of the full moon. I run with uneven strides, the harsh light exposing my desperation, exposing my frantic pace as I stagger across deserted trails. My body rebels against me, its primal need unleashed, uncontainable, throwing
The oak tree presses hard against my back, against the parts of me that cannot stand. I sag into it, letting the splintered bark and cool night anchor me, ground me. The rest of me trembles, shakes, gasps. I am stripped bare, skin and soul exposed to the dark. I can’t hear beyond the quick, frantic
The fire is everything, a world of unbearable heat that crowds out the edges of my control. I stagger forward, each breath a jagged burst in my lungs, and press my fists against my temples, against the rising, undeniable urgency. My skin sears where I touch it, liquid and blistering, and the blood p







