The pain was unlike anything Ruel had ever known, as if every bone in his body was breaking and resetting all at once, muscles stretching to cover new terrain, his nerves igniting like wildfire. His skin burned, as if it were too tight, too small to contain the thing clawing its way to the surface. His body jerked involuntarily, his grip on you tightening as though you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

With a shuddering breath, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his ragged exhale hot against your skin. His fingers twitched, nails pressing just shy of breaking the surface. He knew he was close to losing control—closer than he had ever been—but hurting you was the last thing he wanted. No, he couldn’t. He loved you too much for that. Even now, through the haze you were the only thing that mattered.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry,” he groaned, voice cracking under the weight of it all. A low, rumbling growl rolled up from deep in his chest, slipping past his lips unbidden, feral and raw. “Sweetheart…”

What was happening to him? His skin felt too warm, his body too foreign, as though he wasn’t fully in control. Every muscle twitched with restless energy, his senses sharpening, drawing in every sound and scent around him—especially yours. And then came the worst of it: the urges. They hit him in waves, overwhelming and wild.

The beast inside him was stirring, prowling just beneath the surface, desperate to break free. His breath hitched as another wave of heat rolled through him, the monster's desires pressing hard against the fragile wall of his restraint. His hands trembled where they held you, every part of him screaming to let go—to release the tension building in his bones and skin.

But he held on. He held on because the thought of hurting you, even for a second, was unbearable. You were his lifeline, the only thing standing between him and the thing he feared he was becoming. “I... I don’t know what’s happening,” he whispered, voice strained with fear and desperation.