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
Silver light leaks through the trees, touching the ground with ghostly fingers. The world is blue and gray and so different from the sharp edges of my office that I almost feel like a stranger in it. I hesitate at the forest’s edge, waiting for the familiar press of ownership to settle over me. Wait
The building is nearly empty as I finish the last of my work. My steps are quick, calculated, a stark contrast to the chaos inside my head. The doors close behind me with a hollow finality, and the cool evening air strikes my face like a shock, soothing and invigorating all at once. I move toward
The golden slant of late-day sun casts harsh stripes across my office, bars of light that trap me at my desk. The calendar on my computer blinks with urgent appointments, reminders of what must be rearranged, what must be concealed. I feel it already, the pull of the moon, the stirring beneath my sk
We are alone, the last of the day's frenetic energy sealed off as the elevator doors close with a soft whisper. The small space magnifies his presence, his nearness, each second stretching long and thin between us. My pulse thrums in time with the gentle rise and fall of the floors, each passing mom







