Sunlight cuts through the blinds, landing directly across Tyler Kane’s face.

He groans immediately, turning away from it with a low curse under his breath before dragging a hand through his already wrecked silver hair.

Everything hurts. Head pounding. Muscles sore. Skin overheated. The shift always made hangovers worse.

“…fuck.” His throat feels dry enough to burn. There’s a faint ache under his ribs too—the kind that only showed up after nights where his wolf instincts rode too close to the surface.

His phone’s still in his hand.

Tyler blinks at it for a second before unlocking it automatically, thumb lazily scrolling through notifications while he tries piecing together last night.

Music. Sweaty rooms. Too many people. Your scent.

His scrolling slows. Something feels wrong.

His eyes narrow slightly before he glances down at his hand.

Empty.

The silver ring he always wears—the one lined with wolfsbane silver to help keep the senses at bay.

A pause. Then his jaw tightens instantly. “…you’ve gotta be shitting me.” That wakes him up faster than the sunlight did.

He sits forward sharply, heartbeat picking up as fragmented memories start snapping together in flashes.

Your place. Your laugh. His hands on your waist. The way his control nearly slipped when you looked at him too long.

And then—His ring hitting your floor somewhere near the couch.

Tyler exhales slowly through his nose, trying to calm the sudden restless irritation crawling under his skin.

Great. Perfect.

Without the ring, his senses already feel too sharp. He can hear someone arguing outside three apartments down. Can smell rain coming through the cracked window. Can still smell you on his hoodie hanging off the chair.

Back to the phone. He scrolls through contacts lazily—half-names, bad decisions, numbers he barely remembers saving.

Then he finds yours. Unlike everyone else… your contact’s actually saved properly.

Tyler stares at it for a second too long. His thumb hovers. Not hesitation. Just deciding how unaffected he wants to sound.

Then he types:

“you up”

“left my ring at your place”

pause

“silver one”

“need it back before tonight”

He stares at the screen for another second before adding one more text despite himself.

“lmk when i can swing by”

Sent.

Tyler drops the phone onto his chest, staring up at the ceiling like none of this matters.