LOGIN~ETHAN~
“Don’t joke again, Ethan.” Joan chuckled, his teeth flashing in the dull light of the cabin. “I’m telling the truth, Joan,” I snapped, sharper than I meant. “There are wolves—wolves that literally turn into humans.” “Yeah?” His brow arched, smirk tugging at his lips. “Yes,” I bit out. “I saw it with my own eyes.” He tilted his head like he was thinking, and for half a second, I thought maybe—just maybe—he believed me. But then he burst into laughter. “Like Jacob from Twilight?” he snorted. My jaw clenched. There was no use. Talking to him was like throwing stones at a brick wall. That wolf—no, that woman. Her face burned in my memory. Pale skin streaked with dirt, eyes sharp as blades. And the wolf itself—light-grey fur, ashy, unlike anything I had seen in the forest. The way it moved—powerful, intelligent, lethal. How could I even compare it to a normal animal? This wasn’t a wolf. It was something else. A monster wearing two skins. And if people didn’t know, if they thought they were just humans? They’d fall into its trap. They’d die. My boots tapped a restless rhythm against the floor. Something had to be done. A hand clapped my shoulder. I jerked, heart leaping into my throat, only to see the Deputy Officer looming over me. Joan and I both snapped to salute. “At ease,” he said. His sharp eyes flicked between us. “So what happened last night?” “Magic, sir,” Joan laughed. The Deputy frowned. “What?” “Yes, sir. Magic—wolf magic. Ethan here was the eyewitness.” He winked at me. My blood boiled. “What happened, Ethan?” the Deputy asked. I hesitated. The words felt heavy, dangerous. But keeping them in felt worse. Maybe he'll believe. “Last night, I saw some wolves,” I began slowly. “I tried to capture them. But one of them—one particular wolf—even after being shot, survived. Then it… changed. Into a woman.” The Deputy’s face stayed unreadable. No laughter. No mockery. Hope stirred in my chest, fragile but alive. “She even spoke,” I pressed on. “Her words had a pull, sir. Like… like they reached inside your skull and dragged obedience out of you. They’re dangerous. We have to take action immediately.” The Deputy’s sigh crushed the flicker of hope. “Ethan, maybe you should go on a vacation.” “What? Vacation? Sir, I’m serious!” My voice rose. “They’re dangerous out there!” “Ethan—” “No, you don’t understand!” My hand slammed the table, the sound echoing like thunder. “Those things—they’ll kill! Innocent people, families, children—they’ll tear them apart like they tore my—” The screams came back. The howls. The ripping of flesh. My parents’ blood painting the ground. “Ethan, calm down,” Joan murmured, his hand on my arm. “We know what happened. That won’t repeat.” “Yes. There hasn’t been an accident in a decade,” the Deputy said, voice even. My breath rasped out. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir. I lost control.” The Deputy clapped my back. “Take care of yourself.” He walked away, footsteps fading. I sagged into my chair, chest hollow. No one believed me. No one ever believed me. But I knew the truth. They existed. Monsters hiding in human skin. And I would prove it. Yes, that’s the only way. I alone can’t stand against them. I need solid proof. I yanked open my drawer, grabbed my phone, and typed with shaking fingers. Werewolf history. My screen flooded with myths and folklore. I skimmed until one word stopped me. Weakness. Wolfsbane. Silver. Fire. Wolfsbane? I had no idea what that was. But silver and fire—I could use that. Maybe it was folklore. But I thought werewolves were folklore too—until last night. I would not let monsters roam free. Not again. Not while I breathed. --- Once my duty was over, I rushed to the nearby stores, but all the shopkeepers looked at me as if I’d lost my brain when I asked for wolfsbane. That left me with silver and fire. Knives, matches, lighters, a button camera—all packed. The weight of the blades against my chest steadied me. By the time I reached the forest, night had already bled across the sky. The pines stood like black sentinels. I ate quickly, washed down with water, then slipped into the trees. Not the usual spot. The duty officers would patrol there. No—I’d follow the path the ashy wolf had taken. Hours passed. My watch ticked past midnight. Cold air gnawed at my skin. The silence was unbearable. “Ahhh!” The shout ripped from my throat, frustration and exhaustion mixing into one. I’d failed. Nothing. No sign— “Who’s there?” A man’s voice shattered the night. My pulse spiked. At this time? Damn fools, wandering the woods at night. They’d be slaughtered. I pushed through the branches and found two men. “Don’t panic,” I said, flashing my badge. “Ethan Cross, Forest Officer. You need to leave. There are wolves here. Wolves that turn into humans. Don’t trust anyone.” Their gazes snapped to me. Their eyes—God. Their eyes shifted. Exactly like hers. My chest froze. Werewolves. Instinct moved faster than thought. I drew my silver knife and plunged it into the first one. His scream split the forest. “Silver!” Blood gushed hot over my hand. He lunged, wounded but lethal. I struck at vital points, but he dodged, impossibly fast. Only the injury slowed him. “He’s attacking! Has silver!” the other one yelled. I dodged both of their attacks, my breath ragged, my grip slipping on the knife from sweat. Then—crack! A sharp blow landed against my skull. The uninjured one had vanished from in front of me and appeared behind. How did he move that quickly? “Uhh,” I groaned, staggering as claws raked across my back. My knees buckled, vision swaying in a haze of blood and pain. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard it—the low, guttural murmur of their voices, and above it, the faint, chilling caw of ravens echoing through the trees. “Yes, Alpha. We’ll bring him to the pack.”~NYRA~ “Where is that fucking mutt?!” It doesn’t sound like a voice—it hits, a brutal strike straight to the skull. My step falters, just half a beat, but it’s enough. The Alpha command tears through me, raw and merciless, sinking into bone, demanding obedience before thought can even form. My jaw locks. Behind me, Ethan shifts. He didn’t hear it, but he felt it. Everyone did. The corridor has gone too still, the kind of silence that presses against your ears. Omegas straighten as I pass, eyes dropping instantly, but I catch it—resentment buried under fear. I stop at the office door, my hand hovering for a fraction of a second—not hesitation, calculation—before I knock once and push it open as the door slams against the wall. He’s already on his feet, my uncle doesn’t sit when he’s angry. His presence fills the room before his voice does, thick and suffocating, like the air’s been stripped of oxygen. “Finally.” The word cracks like a whip as his gaze slices past me and lo
~NYRA~ I wake up still. Not burning. Not shaking. Just… still. For a second, I don’t move. I wait for it—for the heat, the pull, that sharp, crawling need to come back and drag me under again. It doesn’t. My breath leaves me slower this time, controlled, and I sit up, testing it. My body answers the way it should—tight, steady, mine. “Goddess,” I exhale and sit up straight, rolling my shoulders once, forcing the stiffness out before it settles, it pulls in places I ignore and move past, the room is empty, no trace of him. Everything else looks normal—and that pisses me off more than it should. I stand, fixing my clothes fast, not stopping, the fabric drags and I shove it off as I reach the door and grab the handle, holding it tight for a second. He’ll say something—throw it in my fucking face, call me pathetic, brag about the favor he did. No. If he wants to stay alive, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Else I’ll make him. I open the door and step into the hallway, f
~NYRA~ “Touch me.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My chest tightens the second they’re out—sharp, choking— No. It hurts. Not just the heat. Not just this want. It starts lower—tight, coiled—and then it twists. The pain folds in on itself, restless, alive, like something trapped under my skin trying to claw free. Every breath drags it tighter, every shift makes it worse—too much, too raw, too there. My body doesn’t feel like mine. It feels— Wrong. I curl into the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric, trying to ground myself in something—anything—but even that betrays me. The friction sends a shiver up my spine, heat flaring hotter, turning into something unbearable. “Ah—!” My back arches off the bed, fingers clawing into his wrist, knuckles whitening as something twists hard inside me. My thighs press together on instinct, trying—failing—to ease the pressure building under my skin. It only makes it worse. Everything’s too sensitive—too sh
~ETHAN~ Her hands shoot up, clutching my collar. Then her lips crash against mine—hot, sudden and desperate. For a second, I don’t move. My body locks, every instinct misfiring under the sudden heat of her mouth, the way her fingers fist into my collar like she’s holding on to the only solid thing left. She’s burning. I feel it—through fabric, through skin—heat radiating off her in waves that hit me harder than they should. Her grip tightens on my collar, dragging me closer, her mouth pressing harder. My hand shifts—slides up her spine, pulling her in without thinking. And the realization hits like a crack through my bones. What is she doing? What am I doing? This—her kissing— I pull back instantly. Not far—just enough to break it, enough to drag in a breath that still tastes like her. A soft, broken whimper slips from her—low, unguarded— —and it hits me harder than the kiss ever did. It lands somewhere deep, raw, dragging something in my chest tight and wrong. “Nyra.” My
~ETHAN~ I wake to the faint sound of birds outside, their calls distant, half-formed through the haze in my head. My eyes open, just enough to see—Nyra. Sitting there, like she owns the space. Always bossy. Something tightens in my chest—not fear, not exactly—but a sharp, unfamiliar mix. Relief. Gratitude. Maybe both. And it hits me how wrong I was...about her. “Finally,” she rasps, when she sees me awake. She adjusts the bed, slides a glass of water toward me. Her fingers linger on the rim for a second longer than necessary before she pulls back. “How do you feel?” she asks, eyes scanning me. “Good,” I say, fingers tracing the rim of the glass. My gaze drifts out the window to the birds perched on the sill—ravens, out of place, perfectly still in the sunlight. “What time is it?” I ask. “Four,” she says, moving to clear the glass and straighten the blankets. I hesitate. “The baby—” “They’re in the maternity ward,” she says, cutting in smoothly. “If you want
~NYRA~ The moment the baby slips into my hands, everything else falls away. There’s only this—small, fragile, fighting. A sharp cry breaks from her, thin at first, then stronger, cutting through the rain, filling the space between one breath and the next. Warm and slick against my palms, alive and fighting. I let one of my claws grow, just enough—controlled despite the tremor in my hand, and slice through the umbilical cord. My grip shifts instantly—one hand steady beneath her head, the other drawing her closer. “Meet your baby girl,” I say, turning just enough. The woman smiles—barely there, shaking through the pain—but it’s real. I step out of the car, rain crashing down harder now, soaking through everything as the baby twitches in my hands. I angle her carefully, letting the water wash the blood away in thin red streams that trail down my wrists. Her chest stutters— My grip tightens instantly. Then steadies. Tiny fingers twitch—uncertain—before curling into no
~NYRA~ A knock sounds just as I finish sealing the report to Alpha Rowan’s council. “Come in.” The door opens slowly. Knox steps inside. Head low. My chest tightens. “Knox.” He doesn’t sit. Doesn’t look at me. His hands are clasped behind his back like he’s awaiting punishment. “Yo
~NYRA~ The door slams behind Knox, rattling the study walls. “Calm down,” I say, voice even. “Calm down?” His laugh is bitter, almost broken. “You’re asking me to fucking calm down, Nyra?” He steps forward, boots heavy against the wood. “He fucking raised his hand on you!” His growl echo
~NYRA~ “You need to train him.” The blade stills in my hand. Dust hangs in the air, sunlight cutting through it in burning slants, flashing off the steel. ‘You’re joking’, I say through the link. He doesn’t move, not even a slight moment of his eyes. I release the hold and step back, lowering
~NYRA~ “What took you this long—” The words never make it out. They die the second the window slides open, and I’m hit by a strong wave of earth and smoke. Him. Not Aaron. Bare skin meets the dawn’s cold—his chest pale in the low blue light, hair tousled like sleep tried and failed to claim hi







