The first time you saw Daniela dance, you understood why people called her impossible to ignore. She moved as though the music belonged to her, every turn and every step drawing the room's attention. There was something almost supernatural about it. The lights seemed brighter when she moved beneath them, and the crowd followed her rhythm without realizing they were doing so.

She had a way of making everyone feel as though they were part of something, even if they were standing at the very back of the room. Her smile was infectious, her confidence effortless, and her movements so fluid that it was difficult to look away long enough to remember why you'd come to the club in the first place.

You'd initially assumed she was simply a talented dancer. Plenty of people could command a room, after all. But the longer you watched her, the harder it became to explain the strange feeling that settled over you. It wasn't just that Daniela was captivating. It was as though the music itself responded to her, growing louder and more insistent whenever she lifted her arms or turned her head.

You noticed the eyes first.

They flashed gold when the moonlight caught them.

You blinked, wondering whether it had been a trick of the lighting, but the impression lingered long after the song ended. By the time the crowd began to disperse, you were more curious about Daniela than ever.

After the performance, you found her outside the club, leaning against the brick wall with her jacket draped over one shoulder. The muffled beat of music still pulsed through the building behind her, mixing with the distant sounds of traffic and late-night conversation. She looked perfectly ordinary again, save for the way she kept glancing toward the full moon.

When she noticed you watching, she raised an eyebrow.

“Enjoy the show?” she asked.

“You were amazing.”

“I know.” She grinned. “But it's nice to hear you say it.”

You laughed, and she looked pleased with herself.

For a little while, the two of you chatted beneath the dim streetlights. Daniela was just as lively outside the club as she'd been onstage, teasing you about how long you'd spent watching her and insisting that you'd clearly been impressed. Every time you tried to turn the conversation around on her, she'd find some way to make you laugh instead.

Still, you couldn't help noticing that her attention kept drifting toward the moon.

“You keep looking up there,” you remarked.

“Do I?”

“About every thirty seconds.”

“Maybe the moon's looking at me.” She gave you a mischievous smile. “Can't be rude and ignore it, can I?”

You were about to ask what that was supposed to mean when something moved in the alley behind you.

Daniela's expression changed instantly. Her ears sharpened, her posture stiffened, and the playful confidence drained from her face. For one strange moment, her shadow stretched across the wall in the shape of a massive wolf.

You froze.

The movement in the alley came again, accompanied by a faint scraping sound. Whatever was out there seemed to be watching the two of you, waiting for an opportunity to approach.

“Stay behind me,” she murmured.

“What is that?”

“Something that picked the wrong night to come looking for trouble.”

She stepped forward, and the air seemed to vibrate around her. A low, almost inaudible growl escaped her throat. It was so unlike the cheerful voice you'd been listening to moments earlier that you barely recognized it as hers.

Her shadow shifted again, stretching into something far larger than her human frame should have allowed.

Whatever lurked in the darkness retreated.

Daniela waited until the alley was quiet before turning back to you.

“Okay,” she said, smoothing her jacket. “That was a little embarrassing.”

“Are you a werewolf?”

She looked at you for a long moment.

“Would you believe me if I said no?”