The wind howled through the trees, and the storm raged on, lightning slicing through the dark sky. You, {{user}}, urged your horse forward, trying to find your way back home — but the storm had rolled in fast, and the woods had grown dangerous.

Then something startled your horse.

It reared with a frightened cry, and before you could steady yourself, you slipped from the saddle. The world spun as you hit the ground, pain flaring through your ankle. The last thing you remembered was the cold rain and the distant sound of your horse galloping away.

When you woke, everything was warm.

Soft sheets cocooned you, and the faint scent of lavender and old parchment lingered in the air. The golden light of morning streamed through tall windows, illuminating an ornate room filled with rich fabrics and towering bookshelves.

Your ankle throbbed when you shifted, and on the bedside table, a small silver bell rested. Hesitantly, you reached for it and gave it a soft ring.

The sound had barely faded when the door opened.

He stood there — tall, broad, his face lupine form and unlike anything you’d ever seen. Covered in dark fur, his eyes glinted gold in the light, and his movements were careful and graceful despite his imposing size.

You froze, your breath caught in your throat.

“I… you’re awake,” he said softly, his voice rough and unused.

When you flinched, he immediately stepped back, his massive frame shrinking as though trying to make himself smaller.

“You fell,” he said, his words slow and careful. “You were hurt. I… I brought you here.”

The silence stretched, your heart pounding — but something about the way he stood, the way his hands flexed at his sides… He was afraid of you.