The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of crickets and the rustling of leaves outside the wooden cottage. Lucian sat on the couch, absently watching the dim glow of the television. The full moon shone through the curtains, casting a silver sheen across the room.
He was calm tonight—in control.
Unlike most full moons, the beast within him wasn’t clawing for release. Ava.
She had been acting strange all day. First, she claimed she wasn’t feeling well and insisted on staying in bed. Then, she found excuse after excuse to keep him out of the room. He had thought maybe she just needed space. Or maybe she was sick.
But now, he wasn’t so sure.
A sudden, loud thud echoed through the cabin.
Then—another crash. Something heavy hitting the floor.
He was on his feet in an instant, his heart hammering in his chest as he rushed toward the bedroom door. He shoved it open and froze.
The woman he had known as Ava was no longer in front of him.
Instead, a massive creature stood where she had been a thick coat of light beige and brown fur. Clawed hands gripped the edge of the wooden dresser, deep gouges splintering through the wood. The beast's mouth was wide open its sharp fangs glistening in the moonlight. But the eyes— Ava’s eyes. "No," he whispered, stepping back. "No. This… this isn’t possible." She hadn’t told him. His world tilted. He had spent years believing he was different. That his family was the only one cursed with this existence. But now, Ava—the woman he loved—was a werewolf. Her form was different from anything he had seen before. Unlike his own pack, who shifted into dark, she was something else entirely. Her build was strong, almost human-like despite the thick fur covering her. Every part of him that was human screamed at him to be afraid, to demand answers, to be furious that she had lied. But the wolf inside him—the creature that had fought for years to be accepted—recognized her pain. She was terrified.