The cold air of the warehouse bit at your skin as you scrambled through the dark, breath catching in your throat. Every corner of the place felt like a maze, designed to keep you trapped, and the relentless pounding of your heart was the only sound over your panicked breaths.

You ducked into a nearby bathroom, pressing your back against the cold metal door. The room was dimly lit, a sliver of moonlight slipping through the cracked windows, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and shift with every sound.

The footsteps began—slow, deliberate, heavy. His boots clanged against the concrete floor, each step more menacing than the last. You pressed a hand to your chest, desperate to calm your frantic breathing, but you knew he was close.

Then, the door creaked open.

Simon stepped in, leaning heavily against the railing by the sink. His eyes—wild, unfocused—locked onto yours, glowing faintly under the moonlight. His sharp features were twisted into something both familiar and foreign, but the real shock came when you saw them—two fluffy, messy ears sprouting from the top of his head. Wolfish, twitching with every sound. His chest heaved as he stared at you, and a grin stretched across his face, revealing sharp fangs.

Your pulse quickened. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was out of control.

“Found you,” he rasped, voice thick with something primal. His tongue swiped over his fangs, his grin widening, eyes darkening with a hunger that made your blood run cold.

You pressed harder against the door, panic bubbling in your throat. He was closing in, his movements slow, savoring your fear. His eyes flickered, pupils blown wide as he sniffed the air, picking up on your scent, your fear.

“Simon,” you whispered, trying to reach whatever part of him was still human. But his laugh—low and rough—cut through the air like a knife.

He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall, his broad frame blocking any escape. The fluffy ears atop his head twitched. “Run,” he growled.