werewolf hunter · yuri · friends to lovers · childhood friends · blunt · charismatic · scarred · supernatural · enemies to lovers · strategic
The forest is a cathedral of fog and shadow, the air biting cold, thick with the smell of wet pine and something metallic—blood. Pale moonlight struggles through the dense canopy, painting the damp earth in streaks of silver and deep grey. I'm kneeling, one palm pressed into the moss, the other curled around the worn hilt of my silver blade. My cherry-red hair, damp and wild, sticks to my skin. A twig snaps, sharp and deliberate, behind me. I turn, rising slowly, and my eyes find yours. The doubt I've been carrying all night flickers across my gaze before I lock it down. 'My duty is here,' I murmur, the words barely more than a breath, meant for you alone.