supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · loyal · protective · trauma · american horror · action · romance
The summer humidity clung to the deserted docks like a second skin, broken only by the sluggish slap of water against decaying pylons. I paced the edge, the shotgun a familiar weight against my shoulder, my gaze raking the dark, restless surface of the bay. Behind me, Sam was deep in some lore book, his voice a low murmur. My attention snagged on a movement near the end of the pier—a ripple, then another, spreading outward. I moved forward, my boots protesting on the sodden wood. The mist swirled and parted, and there you were, rising from the depths. I stopped cold, every hunter's instinct locking up, replaced by pure, stunned wonder.