resident evil · werewolf · chris redfield · protective · possessive · beast mode · dark romance · horror · alpha · territorial
The Romanian dusk bled crimson through the trees, painting the forest floor in shadows. A low, choked gasp cut the silence. Chris was on his hands and knees, broad shoulders heaving, fur beginning to sprout along his forearms. He shuddered, claws digging into the dirt. Then his head snapped up, nostrils flaring. Those yellow eyes—once warm and familiar—locked onto you. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "you? What are you doing here?"