AMORA'S POV;
It started subtly, like the faint whisper of a storm on the horizon. Zale had always been aloof, his demeanor colder than winter's frost, his eyes unreadable like an ancient book written in a dead language. He didn't care for conversation or pleasantries. Most of the time, he treated my questions like unwelcome intrusions.
But now, it was different.
He was different.
Suddenly, the walls around him seemed to have crumbled, and I was left staring at a man I didn't recognize. The once-icy silence between us had been replaced with an unsettling attentiveness. It was as though I had become the center of his world overnight, and the weight of his attention was suffocating.
Why?
What had caused this sudden shift? Was it me? Or was it something else?
The thought of the portrait came crashing into my mind.
It was beautiful and haunting, hidden in a room I wasn't supposed to enter. It was as though it had been waiting for me, its eyes following me as though they knew my secrets. Zale had caught me in there, and though he hadn't said much, the way his expression darkened had told me all I needed to know—I'd made a mistake.
But this sudden kindness, this strange openness… was it because of the portrait? Or was it something darker?
I should have been afraid when he said we needed to talk—when he insisted we leave the house and head into the woods. Yet, some morbid curiosity tugged at me. Against my better judgment, I followed him.
The forest loomed like a dark cathedral, its towering trees forming an unholy ceiling. The deeper we went, the more the air seemed to grow heavier, colder. Shadows stretched long and thin, and every step felt like a descent into something I couldn't quite name.
"What are we doing here?" I asked, my voice thin and shaky.
He didn't answer.
My heart hammered against my ribcage as panic set in. Is this it? Is he going to kill me?
They say that predators often lull their prey into a false sense of security before they strike. The thought made my skin crawl. Was that what this was? All that kindness, those smiles—it was all a trick, wasn't it?
"Amora," he said suddenly, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I flinched, blinking up at him.
"The road is slippery," he said, his tone almost gentle.
I stared at him, startled by the genuine concern in his voice. It was unnerving.
I nodded silently and kept walking, though every fiber of my being screamed at me to run.
Before I realized it, we were deep in the woods, the kind of place where the sunlight dared not reach. He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. The look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine.
"Amora," he began, his voice heavy with something I couldn't quite place. "You've always wanted the truth. Well, I'm going to show you."
My breath caught in my throat.
"But before I do," he continued, stepping closer, "I need to tell you something. And you need to listen carefully."
I nodded, unable to do anything else.
"I'm not what you think I am," he said, his gaze piercing. "I'm not human."
I blinked, unsure if I had heard him correctly. "What?"
"I'm a werewolf."
I stared at him for a moment before a nervous laugh bubbled out of me.
"Zale, come on," I said, shaking my head. "That's ridiculous. You're human. How could you possibly—"
"I'm serious, Amora," he interrupted, his voice like a blade slicing through my disbelief.
My laughter died.
"You're expecting me to believe that you're… a wolf?" I asked, incredulous.
"Not just me," he said. "Wilder, Zora, everyone in the house. We're all werewolves."
I stumbled back a step, my mind reeling.
"You're lying," I whispered, though even as I said it, doubt crept in. There had always been something strange about the people in that house, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"I knew you wouldn't believe me," he said, his voice softer now. "That's why I need to show you."
Before I could respond, a sound shattered the silence.
It was a grotesque, wet cracking, like bones snapping under immense pressure.
"What is that?" I whispered, frozen in place.
Then, I saw it.
Zale's body began to shift, contorting in ways that defied reason. His skin rippled as if something beneath it was fighting to break free. His bones cracked and realigned, his clothes tearing apart like paper.
I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
And then, where Zale had stood, there was now a creature.
A massive silver wolf, its fur shimmering under the pale moonlight, stood before me. Its golden eyes—Zale's eyes—bore into mine.
I felt the world tilt beneath me.
This wasn't possible.
This couldn't be happening.
But it was.
My legs trembled as I took a shaky step back. The wolf—Zale—tilted its head, watching me with an almost human expression of concern.
He's the wolf that saved me.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave.
All this time, it had been him.
But how? How was this possible? My mind raced with questions, each one more terrifying than the last.
Before I could process any of it, the wolf lowered itself to the ground. Its massive body stretched out, its head bowing low until it rested at my feet.
I stared at him, my breath hitching in my throat.
This wasn't a predator.
This was Zale.
And yet, everything I thought I knew had been shattered in an instant. The man I thought I had figured out, the man who terrified and intrigued me in equal measure, was something far beyond my comprehension.
What other secrets did he hide?
And why had he chosen now to reveal them?