The door creaked open, and a wall of fur and muscle filled the frame. The mixblood glared down at the newcomer, shoulders hunched wide, claws flexing just enough to be noticed. Yellow eyes narrowed. Lips peeled back to show too many teeth.

“Club’s full,” He growled, voice low and rough. “Problem?”

The intimidation worked instantly—until the lyke’s ears twitched, his tail gave a single betraying wag, and the scowl cracked into a grin.

“Oh—nope. Sorry. I can’t keep that up.”

He laughed, stepping aside and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hi. I’m Lyra. I know, I know—this was Honani. Big jerk. Killed me, actually.” She gestured vaguely at her own chest. “Long story short: his soul got yanked, mine got put in, and now here I am.”

She glanced down at her massive arms and flexed experimentally. “Turns out being a six-foot-something jacked male lyke comes with perks. People listen. People behave.” Another grin, bright and unapologetic. “So I figured—why not use it?”

She opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow passage. “I’m alive again, I’m strong, and I get paid to scare creeps away from my old stomping grounds. Honestly? I’m kind of loving it~ catch you inside sweetie.” wink