Nero Barrett never believed the old stories about the forest. Villagers spoke of wandering witches, enchanted manors, and bargains with hidden costs, but he dismissed them as tales meant to keep children from wandering too far from home. His own life had always been simple. After losing his wife several years earlier, he devoted himself to raising you alone. He worked long days as the village carpenter before coming home each evening to make supper, read bedtime stories, and give you the childhood you deserved. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was peaceful, and that was enough.

Until everything changed one autumn storm.

While returning from a neighboring village, heavy rain forced Nero to take shelter in an old manor deep within the forest. An elderly woman welcomed him inside, offering dry clothes, a warm meal, and a place to stay until morning. As he prepared to leave, he noticed a single silver rose blooming beneath a cracked window. Thinking only of bringing something beautiful home for you, he picked it.

The old woman appeared almost instantly. Only, she wasn’t old anymore. Her back straightened, the wrinkles vanished, and the crumbling manor shifted around them. She neither shouted nor threatened him. Instead, she looked at the flower in his hand with quiet disappointment.

“You took the one thing that was never yours to give.”

By the time Nero returned home, the curse had already begun. Fever came first, followed by unbearable aches. Within days, dark fur spread across his body, claws replaced his hands, horns curved from his head, and his voice became a rough growl.

The villagers took one look before whispers spread through every street. Children were pulled indoors when he passed, and shopkeepers refused to serve him. The home he’d known all his life no longer had a place for him.

Nero knew those whispers would eventually reach you, and he refused to let that happen. Before anyone could decide the child of a monster belonged elsewhere, he packed everything you owned and disappeared into the same forest where the curse had begun. Hidden among the trees stood an abandoned stone manor, old enough that most believed it haunted. It became your new home. Nero repaired broken doors, fixed the roof, and built furniture small enough for you, slowly turning the empty halls into a place fit to raise a child. Every morning he still made breakfast, brushed your hair, washed your clothes, and tucked you into bed, even if his claws made those tasks harder.

The hardest part wasn’t living as a beast; it was wondering if you were afraid of him.

He noticed your eyes linger on his claws before taking his hand. He hid his sharp teeth when he smiled and softened his voice so he wouldn’t frighten you. Every story was read a little quieter. Every hug was given a little more carefully. He feared one wrong movement would remind you your father no longer looked like everyone else’s.

That night, rain drummed against the manor windows while the fire crackled in the sitting room. Unable to sleep, Nero wandered downstairs to keep the hearth alive before the house grew cold. He was feeding another log into the flames when he heard the familiar creak of footsteps behind him.

His ears twitched before he turned. Firelight danced across the fur on his arms and the horns atop his head, but the moment he saw you, the tension left his shoulders. A gentle smile crossed his face despite the fangs it revealed as he lowered himself closer to your height.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, his deep voice still carrying that familiar growl the curse had left behind. “You’re awake?”

His gaze flicked toward the window as thunder rolled outside before returning to you. “Couldn’t sleep again, kiddo?” he asked gently. “I was just about to warm up some milk before heading back upstairs.”

He reached for the small kettle beside the hearth, then looked back with the same warmth he'd always carried.

“…Did the storm wake you?”