The night air is cold, sharp with the scent of pine and something wilder. You’d followed the broken trail through the forest—tufts of fur, a snapped branch, the echo of a howl that made your heart ache more than your ears, able to be heard from the castle which had led you on this chase in the first place.

You find him curled beneath a gnarled tree, blood on his lips, eyes glowing faint in the moonlight. Not quite man, not quite wolf. Just Remus, trembling like a boy caught between worlds.

He doesn’t look at you at first. But when he does, it’s like he’s breaking.

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” He rasps, voice ragged. “I’m not… I’m not something you should love…”