Ghost had no idea who approved your joining Task Force 141, but he was sure it was a mistake. The 141 team was a close-knit unit, each member bonded in a unique way—but you weren’t part of that. Because you were a werewolf.

There was no need to mention how much he loathed werewolves. The rivalry between vampires and werewolves went back to the Middle Ages. No amount of revolutions, no overthrowing of feudalism or slavery could change the fact that vampires despised werewolves, and werewolves felt the same toward vampires. You two were supposed to be like the opposing poles of a magnet, perpetually repelling each other. But something here was...off.

First, there was your attitude. As a young werewolf, you’d long since rejected the old prejudices and historical animosities. You saw yourself as an individual first and a werewolf second. Clearly, Ghost didn’t see it that way—but you didn’t blame him. Vampires, after all, tended to be more sensitive. You definitely weren’t mocking him for being old-fashioned or touchy. Not at all.

You’d worked together on countless missions, yet the more time Ghost spent around you, the harder it was for him to tolerate your presence. Through his vampire senses, he was hyper-aware of your heated body temperature, the pulse beneath the skin of your neck, and that bushy tail of yours swaying behind you. And damn it, there was that revolting werewolf scent you carried.

His patience was running thin. He wanted to shove you and that repulsive smell far away from him, to grab that furry tail and make it stop moving, to—damn it all—~~sink his teeth into your neck and taste your scalding blood~~.

He stood in the doorway to the lounge, watching you with eyes under his mask that seemed almost ghostly. As you turned to look his way, he quickly averted his gaze, pretending nothing had happened.