The afternoon light slanted through the towering pines, casting long, jagged shadows across the forest floor. Lila knelt on a patch of moss, her camera lens focused on the shimmering surface of Ravenwood Lake. The water was still, a perfect mirror for the dense greenery and the jagged peaks that rose beyond the trees. She adjusted the focus, leaning closer to capture the soft ripple of a breeze disturbing the reflection.
Click. The shutter's soft sound echoed faintly, but the stillness swallowed it up.
Her breath caught for a moment as a family of ducks glided into view. She held the camera steady, tracking their gentle movement. This was the peace she craved—the quiet hum of nature, the world reduced to just her and her lens.
A low rumble broke the tranquility. Lila paused, lowering her camera. The sound came again, a distant growl, too deep to be a passing breeze or animal she recognized. She stood slowly, scanning the thick forest that surrounded her. The trees, tall and ancient, felt like looming sentinels, their branches twisting into dark shapes as the light began to fade.
"Come on, Lila. You're just being paranoid," she whispered, shaking her head. But the feeling lingered, a weight settling between her shoulder blades.
She shrugged it off, turning back to her camera. The sun dipped lower, casting an amber glow across the lake. The perfect light, she thought. But as she raised her camera again, a sharp snap of a twig shattered the stillness behind her.
Lila froze. Her pulse quickened as her senses sharpened. She didn't move. Instead, she listened. Nothing. Just the whisper of the wind in the trees. Maybe an animal, she told herself, forcing her body to relax. But before she could take another step, the air around her thickened—charged with an unnatural energy.
A deep growl rumbled again, this time closer, reverberating through the underbrush. Her breath hitched. Slowly, she turned. The woods were darker now, the shadows deepening, twisting into strange, unsettling shapes. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the camera, stepping backward into the clearing.
Snap. Another twig.
And then she saw it.
Emerging from the shadows was a hulking figure—its eyes gleaming, a mix of amber and gold that flickered like embers. The rogue werewolf stood just beyond the tree line, its body a grotesque combination of muscle and fur, taller than any man she'd ever seen. The creature's nostrils flared as it sniffed the air, its lips curling back to reveal sharp, glistening teeth.
Lila's mouth went dry, her heart hammering in her chest. She took a step back, her camera dangling uselessly at her side. The werewolf's gaze locked on her, primal hunger burning behind its eyes. It moved toward her, slow and deliberate, its massive claws digging into the earth with each step.
The world narrowed to just the creature and her. Time slowed, her mind racing. She had to run. But before she could move, the beast lunged.
Lila dove to the side, hitting the ground hard, her camera flying from her grip. The werewolf's claws slashed through the air where she had just stood, ripping into the earth with a sickening sound. She scrambled to her feet, panting, her legs already aching from the sudden jolt.
A snarl ripped through the air as the creature rounded on her again, faster than she expected. She bolted into the woods, her breath ragged, branches tearing at her clothes and skin as she ran. The ground was uneven, the forest floor a blur of roots and rocks beneath her feet. She could hear it behind her—its panting, its heavy footsteps crashing through the underbrush.
Her chest burned as she sprinted, eyes scanning for some kind of escape. Up ahead, the terrain sloped sharply downward—a steep ravine. She skidded to a halt, her shoes slipping on the loose earth. The rogue werewolf was closing in, its growl vibrating through the trees.
There was no time to think.
She jumped.
The fall was disorienting, her body tumbling through the air before crashing into the ground below. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and she lay still for a moment, dazed. The sounds of pursuit were muffled, distant, as if the world had been swallowed by the darkening sky.
She forced herself to move, her body protesting as she crawled behind a fallen tree, pressing her back against the rough bark. She could hear the beast above, prowling along the edge of the ravine, its growl a low, menacing rumble. Her hands trembled as she fumbled for a rock, gripping it tightly, knowing it would do little against the creature if it found her.
The forest fell into silence again, but Lila knew better than to trust it. Her heart pounded in her ears, her fingers aching from gripping the stone too tightly. She waited, every muscle tensed, listening for any sound that would give away the rogue's location.
A sudden thud above her—the werewolf dropped into the ravine. Lila's stomach lurched. She peeked around the log. The creature moved with a terrifying grace, its eyes scanning the dark undergrowth, nostrils flaring as it caught her scent.
It was getting closer. She braced herself, the rock still clenched in her fist, her breath shallow. Just when she thought it was over, a flash of movement broke through the shadows.
Another figure.
Dorian.
He moved with deadly precision, his body shifting in mid-air as he collided with the rogue werewolf, knocking it off balance. They tumbled to the ground in a flurry of claws and teeth, snarls ripping through the air. Dorian's eyes flashed silver in the moonlight, his own transformation halfway complete as he fought to pin the rogue down.
"Lila, get out of here!" Dorian's voice was a guttural growl, his words barely human as he grappled with the rogue.
But Lila couldn't move. She watched in stunned silence as the two werewolves clashed, their growls and the tearing of flesh filling the air. Dorian was stronger, faster, his strikes calculated, but the rogue fought with a savage desperation, its claws raking across Dorian's chest.
Lila finally broke free of her paralysis. She scrambled to her feet, glancing back at the battle before turning and sprinting toward the edge of the ravine. She heard another roar behind her, Dorian's deep and commanding, overpowering the rogue's.
She reached the top just as the moon broke through the clouds, casting a silver glow over the trees. The battle raged below, but the sounds were growing fainter. She didn't stop running until the town's lights flickered through the trees ahead.
---
The night had swallowed the forest whole, and Lila's ragged breaths were the only sound she could focus on as she sprinted through the underbrush. The rogue werewolf's growls echoed behind her, sharp and relentless, each one pushing her legs to move faster. Her throat burned, her vision swimming, but there was no time to slow down. The creature was gaining.
She pushed herself harder, stumbling over roots and low-hanging branches, desperate to find some way out of the maze of trees. She darted left, then right, the rogue's footsteps crashing through the brush like an avalanche closing in on her. Every step felt heavier than the last, her body screaming for rest, but she couldn't stop. Not now.
A clearing appeared up ahead—a brief break in the dense forest. She dashed toward it, hoping for some miracle, but the ground beneath her feet shifted, loose soil giving way as she slid into a shallow gully. The impact knocked her off her feet, her body slamming into the ground, pain exploding in her shoulder. She gasped, forcing herself to roll over, clutching her arm as she looked up.
The rogue loomed above the ravine, its massive frame blocking the moonlight, casting a monstrous shadow over her. Its glowing eyes fixed on her like a predator closing in on its prey. A low, guttural growl rumbled from deep within its chest, teeth bared, saliva dripping from its snout.
Lila's hand scrambled for anything to defend herself, her fingers wrapping around a thick branch. She didn't think, she swung wildly as the creature leaped toward her.
Before it could strike, a blur of motion tore through the air. Something—or someone—slammed into the rogue with the force of a battering ram, sending it sprawling into the dirt. Lila blinked, disoriented, trying to process what had just happened.
The figure standing between her and the rogue was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, tousled hair catching the moon's silver light. For a heartbeat, she thought she was hallucinating, but then she heard his voice.
"Stay down," Dorian commanded, his back to her, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sent a shiver down her spine.
Lila's eyes widened in shock, her pulse hammering in her ears. Dorian? But how—?
The rogue werewolf let out a snarl, scrambling to its feet, but Dorian didn't give it a chance. He lunged, faster than she thought possible, his hands shifting mid-strike—no longer hands, but claws. His nails had elongated into razor-sharp talons, his skin rippling as dark fur spread up his arms. His face—still human—twisted with a primal snarl, but there was no mistaking the transformation. His eyes, once a stormy blue, now burned with an intense silver light.
Lila's breath hitched as she watched, frozen in place. Dorian was—he couldn't be—
He was a werewolf.
The rogue met Dorian's attack with a vicious swipe, but Dorian dodged it effortlessly, his movements fluid and lethal. The two collided again, a flurry of snarls, claws, and teeth. Dirt and debris flew as they clashed, each hit sending shockwaves through the ground. Lila pressed herself against the gully's edge, her eyes darting between the two, heart racing.
Dorian was relentless. His strength, his speed—it was unlike anything she had ever seen. Every strike was precise, every movement calculated, and yet there was something primal about him, something wild that she had never seen before.
The rogue was no match. With a swift, brutal motion, Dorian knocked it to the ground, pinning it there with a growl that seemed to shake the very air. He leaned in, his voice a low, guttural warning.
"Leave. Now."
The rogue snarled in defiance but didn't move. Dorian's grip tightened, his claws digging into the rogue's fur-covered throat, eyes blazing.
"Don't make me say it again."
For a moment, Lila thought the rogue would fight back, but then its gaze shifted to Dorian's, and something seemed to pass between them—a silent command, an acknowledgment of dominance. With a final snarl, the rogue twisted free of Dorian's grip, turning and vanishing into the woods, its heavy footfalls retreating into the distance.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Lila stayed still, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths as Dorian turned to face her. His eyes, still glowing that eerie silver, softened as they met hers. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The forest, so alive just minutes before, seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
She stared at him, her mind racing to catch up with what she had just seen. His hands, now back to normal, hung at his sides. His clothes were torn, his chest rising and falling with the effort of the fight. But it wasn't the cuts or bruises she was focused on. It was the truth, standing right in front of her.
"You're... a werewolf," she breathed, barely more than a whisper.
Dorian looked at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. He took a step toward her, slow, deliberate, his posture no longer threatening but cautious, like he was trying not to scare her.
"Yes," he said finally, his voice low, a mix of resignation and something else—something she couldn't quite place.
Lila's grip on the branch loosened, her arm dropping limply to her side. She wanted to speak, to demand answers, to ask how this was even possible—but the words wouldn't come. All she could do was stare, her mind a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and something she couldn't name.
Dorian watched her carefully, his movements slow and deliberate as he knelt in front of her. "You're safe now," he murmured. "It's gone."
She didn't respond, couldn't, really. Her breath was still uneven, her pulse loud in her ears. She wanted to run, to get away from this impossible situation, but some part of her—some irrational, instinctual part—kept her rooted to the spot.
Dorian's eyes, though still faintly glowing, were filled with something softer now. "I didn't want you to find out like this."
Lila blinked, finally finding her voice. "Find out what?" she asked, her tone sharper than she intended. "That you're a werewolf? That these things—" she gestured to the dark woods around them, "—are real?"
He didn't flinch, but his gaze held steady on hers. "Yes."
She shook her head, letting out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "This can't be real. I must've hit my head—this has to be a dream."
Dorian didn't move, his expression unreadable. "It's real, Lila. And you need to understand—there's more going on here than you realize."
She met his gaze, trying to process everything, her mind spinning. "More? Like what?"
"Like the fact that you're now in the middle of something dangerous," he said, his tone serious, almost urgent. "The rogue you saw tonight—it won't be the last. They're coming for more than just territory. And you—" he paused, eyes searching hers—"you're involved now, whether you like it or not."
The gravity of his words hung between them, heavy and undeniable. Lila stared at him, a chill running down her spine. She had no idea what she had just been thrown into. But one thing was clear: her life would never be the same.
---
The fire crackled softly, sending sparks into the night air as Lila sat on the edge of an old tree stump, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames. The warmth of the fire did little to calm the icy tremor still running through her. Dorian moved quietly a few feet away, gathering branches and feeding them into the fire with methodical, careful movements.
He hadn't said much after the fight, and neither had she. What was there to say? The rogue werewolf had vanished into the darkness, and Dorian—Dorian was a werewolf.
She glanced at him again, trying to reconcile the man she had known with the creature she had seen tonight. He crouched low, stirring the embers with a long branch, his sharp features half-lit by the fire's glow. The cuts on his arm were healing already—his skin knitting together as if the injuries had never existed. It was subtle, but she noticed.
The crack of a twig snapped her attention back to the forest. Lila's eyes darted toward the sound, her muscles tensing before Dorian's calm voice broke the silence.
"It's just the wind."
He didn't look at her as he spoke, but there was something reassuring in the way he said it—like he had been in this situation a hundred times before. Like there was nothing to worry about.
"Wind doesn't sound like footsteps," Lila muttered, her voice shaky, even to her own ears.
Dorian stood, tossing the branch aside. "You're safe here." He gestured to the fire, the small clearing around them. "The rogue won't come back tonight. Not after that."
Lila swallowed, her throat dry. "And if it does?"
"I'll handle it." He said it so simply, as if that was just the way things worked. As if it was normal.
Lila shook her head slowly, her hands gripping the rough edges of the tree stump. "I don't… I don't understand any of this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "This can't be real."
Dorian finally looked at her, his gaze steady, though his eyes no longer glowed like they had during the fight. He took a step closer, his posture more relaxed now that the immediate danger had passed. "I know it's a lot to take in."
"A lot?" Lila let out a short, breathless laugh. She gestured wildly to the forest around them. "I just saw you—" she stopped, shaking her head, "—you turned into a werewolf. I didn't even think those existed outside of… I don't know, movies? Books? This is insane."
He didn't argue. Instead, he walked around the fire and crouched down in front of her, resting one hand on the ground to steady himself. "I can't change what you saw. But I can explain. If you let me."
Lila stared at him for a long moment, her mind spinning. She wanted to demand answers, to ask how he could possibly hide something like this, how long he had known, what else he was keeping from her. But she couldn't get the words out. Not yet.
Instead, she asked the only thing that made sense. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Dorian's jaw tightened, his gaze shifting toward the fire. "Because it's dangerous," he said quietly. "The less you knew, the safer you were."
"Safe?" Lila repeated, disbelief lacing her tone. "That thing almost killed me."
"I know." His voice was firm, but his expression softened when he looked back at her. "That's why I'm telling you now. You're involved, whether you want to be or not. I can't hide it anymore."
Lila felt the weight of his words, heavy and suffocating. She closed her eyes, rubbing a hand over her face. "So what now? Am I supposed to just—what—accept that this is real? That there are werewolves running around, and you're one of them?"
Dorian didn't flinch. "Yes."
Lila let out another short laugh, more bitter this time. "Great. Just great."
For a moment, the only sound between them was the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of leaves in the distance. Lila stared into the flames, watching as the logs crumbled into embers, her thoughts a jumbled mess of disbelief and confusion.
Dorian sat beside her now, his movements slow, deliberate. He was giving her space, but not too much. Close enough to be a comfort, far enough to respect the whirlwind she was in.
She couldn't shake the image of him transforming in front of her—the claws, the speed, the sheer force of his power. And yet, here he was, calm, controlled. As if nothing had changed. As if he hadn't just revealed the most unbelievable thing she'd ever heard.
"How long?" Lila asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.
Dorian glanced at her. "How long what?"
"How long have you been... like this?"
He hesitated, then answered. "Since I was born."
Lila let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "So you've always known."
He nodded once. "I didn't have a choice."
She shifted, her fingers tracing the rough bark of the stump beneath her. "And what about… them? The rogue? There are more of them?"
"Yes." His voice was low. "But they're not like me. They're… wild. Dangerous. They don't follow any rules. That's why they're a threat."
"And you're different?"
Dorian met her gaze, his eyes serious. "I'm not like them. I was raised differently. I follow a code."
Lila's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "A code? Like some kind of werewolf honor system?"
His expression didn't change. "Something like that."
She shook her head, leaning forward, elbows on her knees as she stared into the fire again. "This is… it's too much."
"I know." Dorian's voice softened, but he didn't move closer. "But you'll get through it. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Lila didn't respond immediately. She watched the flames dance, flickering and crackling, her mind a whirlwind of questions. Everything she thought she knew had been turned upside down in the space of a single night. And yet, here she was—alive, somehow—because of him.
Finally, she looked over at Dorian, her voice quiet. "What happens now?"
He didn't hesitate. "Now, we make sure you're safe."
She stared at him, searching his face for something—anything—that made sense. But all she saw was the same determination, the same quiet strength that had always been there. He was different now, yes, but he was still Dorian.
"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
"You don't have to," Dorian said, his voice steady. "I'll help you."
Lila glanced at him, her chest tight. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that somehow this would all make sense. But right now, her world was upside down, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever find solid ground again.