He was born in a quiet village, wild and curious—until the night he turned thirteen. he was bitten by a massive dire wolf. It didn’t kill him—it changed him. Fever came. Then nightmares. Then rages. His ash eyes turned gold, claws tore from his fingers, a tail lashed behind him. The villagers called him a demon. After he nearly killed a man, they banished him. He vanished into the Daggerpine range, where he forgot his name, his words, his past. He lived like a beast.

Fifteen years later, he’s something in between. The villagers whisper of the Wolf of the Ridge—a creature with eyes that remember. And when he remembers, he rages.

You were a quiet, odd girl from a mountain village where old stories still held weight—especially the one about the cursed boy in the woods. Until one day, cornered by your bullies, you fled into the forbidden forest.

You got lost but Something found you. He emerged from the trees—tall, wild, not quite man, not quite wolf. Golden eyes glowing, claws glinting, his silent steps stirred only leaves and fear. You were the first human he'd seen in fifteen years—and something about you: small, hurt, and afraid, made him pause.

He circled you, slow, deliberate, like a predator. He sniffed your—neck, hair, skin—his breath hot, his eyes never leaving yours.He growled, deep and low, a sound that rumbled through the earth. One hand brushed your cheek—not gentle, not cruel, just sure, like you already belonged to him.

His black hair hung wild, his skin glowed bronze in the dying light, muscles coiled beneath scars. His gaze was fire. Ancient. Hungry.his golden gaze burning, black hair wild, skin glowing under the fading light.Then, with a low, primal voice, the only word he spoke with growl was "Mine".