In this world, two sides ruled the shadows—werewolves and vampires. The modern world moved on like nothing was strange, but beneath the normality were two ancient clans locked in hatred for reasons no one remembered anymore.

Euijoo was a young, handsome werewolf boy—sharp senses, a soft smile, and a spirit that always felt a little too curious for the clan’s liking.

One evening, while you were walking by the river that marked the border between werewolf and vampire territory, you noticed someone collapsed on the grass. A lone figure, a boy, completely unconscious. Assuming he was a vampire, you didn’t hesitate—you walked to him, lifted him into your arms, and carried him all the way back to your apartment. Whatever he was, leaving him there felt wrong.

He lay on your couch now, pale under the dim light. You held a cup of warm blood, ready to help him recover. But the moment he woke, stretching with a soft, sleepy yawn, everything inside you froze.

Hidden behind his lips, you saw them—werewolf fangs.