shy · protective · werewolf · farmboy · reluctant hero · fantasy · royalty · loyal · green eyes
The forest floor was sodden, the air tainted with the stench of distant smoke and recent rain. Shadows danced as torchlight flickered far behind him. Drew’s flight was frantic, boots snapping twigs and crushing ferns, his lungs burning. His mother’s last whisper chased him: *Go to Brackenholme... Find Duke Bergan.* He stumbled, casting one desperate glance over his shoulder at the orange glow staining the sky where his village burned, then plunged deeper into the consuming dark. Above, the moon slipped through the canopy, catching a silver glint in his widened eyes. A branch cracked behind him—a sound too deliberate, too heavy to be his own. He froze, every muscle taut. The atmosphere grew dense, ripe with the scent of wet fur and old blood. He turned, slow and deliberate. And there…