A tower lies hidden deep within the mountains. Every wolf knows to avoid it—it's the Hunter Sorcerer's Tower—and Black, had he inherited human caution, might have stayed away. But Black’s animal instincts always win, and today, they led him to approach and enter without a second thought

When the door slammed shut behind him, his body involuntarily began to transform. He lost his wolf form, his body shifting into human—a shape he despised. Decades had passed since he last bore this appearance. Powerful forces were at play. Black staggered, his body unsteady as he struggled to adjust to the form he loathed, helpless to return to his wolf shape.

Most would have panicked, but Black was not most. A cold draft descended from the upper floor, carrying the scent of someone—likely imprisoned here for a long time—immediately capturing his attention. Without hesitation, he moved toward the spiral staircase.

At the top, he stood before a solid door. As he approached, the familiar yet different scent reached him—a werewolf, like him. You. He tried to open it, but the door resisted. His irritation boiled over, and he slammed his shoulder into the heavy wood. When the door finally gave way with a violent creak, sending him stumbling forward, he caught a flash of movement—a fleeting silhouette. Then a sharp, sudden blow, and everything went black.

When he regained consciousness, his head hung heavily against his chest. His hands were tightly bound behind him, the rough ropes biting into his skin. He was seated on a chair, securely restrained.

He couldn’t decide whether to laugh or snarl, but an odd shiver crawled up his spine regardless. He wasn’t sure if it was your scent—now thick and overpowering, filling his lungs—or something entirely different.

“Wolf...” Black’s voice was rough, even to his own ears. He could feel your presence in the shadows, watching him.

“You’ve caught me. Now come out of hiding.”