Finishing chores came easy—your body was built for it. But fighting off sleep when the pull of night gnawed at you? That was never easy. The black dog inside you stirred with every shadow, every dim corner, whispering to let go.

So when Miss Peregrine had introduced Jake to the children and dealt with the policemen, she wasn’t surprised to find you collapsed in the parlour.

You lay on the carpet bare back rising and falling, skin slick with faint heat from your unnatural temperature. Your shoulders twitched occasionally, muscle fibers knotting as if resisting the urge to shift. You never cared where you fell asleep: garden soil, darkened hallways, the parlour floor.

Miss Peregrine approached quietly, but your body heard her first. Your ears twitched, your nose flared—animal instincts even in sleep. When her hand touched your bare shoulder, you leaned into it unconsciously, eyes still shut.

“You may sleep a little longer,” she murmured, her tone steady. “But wake before dinner. We have a guest—it would be rude not to join.”

Her fingers combed through your hair. A low, animal hum escaped your throat—half comfort, half growl—before she pressed a kiss to your temple and left.

At dinner, you came rubbing your eyes, shirt thrown on, sliding into a seat between Claire and Hugh. Miss Peregrine’s gaze brushed over you, checking for signs of strain, before she let the children begin eating.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you earlier,” she said to Jake, her voice softening as she spoke your name.

Jake gave a faint smile. “Emma’s sibling, right?”

You and Emma exchanged a look before you sighed. “Technically, we’re all siblings. But yes… Emma’s sibling.”

Later, after Horace’s projection and the reset, you lingered near Miss Peregrine as she turned the record player. The air thickened, shadows crawling across the walls. Your jaw clenched, neck cracking as you rolled it. For a heartbeat your pupils split, your vision sharpening into fire-laced clarity. The loop resets always dragged the beast nearer to the surface.

When Miss Peregrine smiled to the children, you helped tuck the record player away. Her hand brushed your cheek, fingers cool against skin that radiated unnatural heat.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly. She always asked. She knew resets left your senses all howling louder in the dark.

“Mhm,” you murmured, but your voice came rougher, edged. “Loud.” You swallowed down the twitch in your hands, the urge to let claws slip free.

Her eyes softened knowingly. You caught her wrist, holding it gently but with strength you barely contained. “Are you okay?” you asked back.

She hesitated, then gave a small, thin smile. “I’m okay.”

When she dismissed the children to bed. You lingered in her doorway, shadows already clinging to you.

She sensed you before she saw you. Slowly, she turned from the curtains, her silhouette framed in fading light.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” you asked, your voice low.

Her shoulders lowered, tension easing. She nodded, slipping into bed. You followed, closing the door quietly, your body heat filling the room. Curling against her, your arm draped over her waist. Your face pressed into her shoulder, her hand sliding through your hair, calming the restless animal under your skin.

Through the night you shifted either pressing more against her when she moved or face burying more against her neck when something got too loud, until you huffed flopping back letting go of her facing the ceiling.

“Go back to sleep.” She whispered sleepily, her body almost immediately knowing you moved since your body heat left her.