One Night with a Lycan: A Big Girl’s Transformation

Alessia Rossi

The loud music beating in the large dressing room blended with the chatter and squeals of excited girls adjusting their costumes and practicing last-minute dance moves.

I adjusted my outfit, checking myself in the mirror one last time. I saw the deep, long mark on my stomach, which was slightly visible under the sheer dress. My finger traced along it. No matter how much I try to escape my past from my fear, it chases me like a haunting dream.

"I am envious of you, Alessia. You are performing in the center," Samantha, one of my co-dancers, interrupted my thoughts.

I turned around to face her, forcing a smile on my lips, ignoring the uneasiness curling in my stomach.

"You would have also gotten the chance to dance in the middle if you had practiced well. Her talent outshines all of you. Instead of getting envious, work harder," our choreographer interjected. Her sharp tone made Samantha huff and pout dramatically.

"Don't worry, Samantha," I reassured her. "I’ll make sure you get the center spot next time."

Looking down, Samantha pouted while I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the raging storm within by placing my palms on my stomach.

Three years. It's been three years since that incident, yet I still feel uneasy. Even though I'm doing everything I love, it still feels like a piece of me is missing.

Suddenly, the dressing room erupted in gasps of surprise as a girl rushed in, panting. Her eyes were wide with excitement.

"He is here! He is here!" she squealed as she spotted her favorite celebrity.

"Who?" Samantha asked curiously.

A wide smile spread across her lips as she announced,

"Nikolai De Moretti"

My heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of his name.

My face turned pale, my breath caught in my throat, and my stomach flipped with anxiety.

The gasps, giggles of excitement, and chatter about how devastatingly handsome and powerful he was became distant for me as I struggled to breathe. My hands turned ice cold, my knees wobbled, and my whole body trembled.

He is back!

"Alessia," Samantha grabbed my arm just in time. "Are you okay?"

I blinked multiple times and took deep breaths to push away the panic clawing at my chest.

How can I be okay when my nightmare himself is here?

"I—I don't think I can perform," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

The chatter died down as suddenly all eyes turned to me, adding more to my anxiety.

"What?!" the choreographer’s shocked voice echoed in the room.

"I’m not feeling well." I looked anywhere but at the crowd standing in front of me. "I’ll step out of the performance."

Silence.

A heavy silence followed my words.

"But... it will ruin the entire routine. We can't even replace you in five minutes!" The choreographer exclaimed. I looked up at her and saw panic in her eyes.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

"Alessia, please," another dancer pleaded, stepping forward. "You know how much we’ve all practiced. If you leave now, it will affect everyone."

My gaze swept over everyone, and I saw silent pleas and desperation on their faces. Guilt took over me. We had all worked hard, and I couldn't let my fear ruin everything.

If he is back, then there is no point in hiding. I will have to face him one day or another.

I exhaled heavily.

"Fine," I murmured. "I won’t quit."

Relief washed over the group as the choreographer clapped her hands. "Alright, girls! Get ready! You’re up next!"

I turned away, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat.

There is no need to fear him. I would be on the stage; he can't harm me.

Drawing a deep breath, I walked in line with the other girls.

As we stepped on the stage and took our places, the lights blazed over us. I tried to keep my gaze low, but the intense tingling sensation coursing through my body was impossible to ignore.

The moment my gaze lifted, they met with a pair of emerald green eyes, and my breath hitched.

My body was paralyzed as I saw him sitting there like a king on his throne, radiating an aura of power and control that sent shivers down my spine. A slight smirk played across his lips as if he were here for me. This is only for me.

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as he leaned forward slightly. His expression shifted from amusement to predatory, and I felt a surge of adrenaline. It was as if he could see into my soul.

I straightened up as the music began. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before moving to the beats.

Music is in my veins, and dance is in my soul.

So my feet moved in rhythm with the beats. I felt many eyes on me, but his gaze held me captive. His piercing gaze traced my every movement, causing chills to run down my spine. I tried to remain calm, but my legs trembled under the weight of his stare.

The heat from the stage lights on my skin was nothing compared to the heat emanating from him.

When the song ended, I whirled to take the last step. When the music stopped, we held our position for a few seconds. My chest heaved up and down as the applause erupted. But he didn't move from his place. His eyes were still on me. I could see a slight shift in his expression and a shiver ran down my body at the way his eyes darkened with desire.

Amidst the chaos, I could hear the rapid pounding of my heart.

I bolted from the stage when his piercing stare became unbearable. My breaths came out ragged, as if I just ran a marathon. I needed a few moments alone.

I could hear footsteps approaching me. I sprinted into the locker room, as I couldn’t face anyone. It was dark and silent, just what I wanted.

I could still feel his lingering gaze all over my body. I desperately wanted to remove it so I quickly changed my clothes and stuffed my dress into the locker.

Pressing my back against the cold metal of lockers, I forced myself to take deep breaths. My eyes closed, and‌ my hand reached out to my throbbing heart as I inhaled and exhaled through my mouth.

The silence provided relief, but it was short-lived because the footsteps broke the peace.

My senses became alert, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

I know it is him.

I can feel it.

A shiver ran down my spine as I swallowed hard. My palms turned cold, and sweat formed on my forehead.

No! I locked the door. He can’t come inside. He can’t.

But my soul left my body when I heard a soft click with which the door opened, and I heard his voice: deep, dark, and unmistakable.

"Princess. Where are you?"