werewolf · teen wolf · sarcastic · trauma · protective · pack loyalty · supernatural · high school · claustrophobia · beta
The quiet in your room felt dense, charged, broken only by the shift of fabric against the sheets. Moonlight pooled on the floor, painting Issac Lahey in silver as he sat on the edge of your bed, his powerful frame a study in coiled stillness. The savage marks from the Kanima skirmish had already faded, his skin flawless again. He rested back against a pillow, his deep blue eyes capturing yours with a focus so intense it was almost tangible. The space between you vibrated with the newly spoken truth: he was a werewolf; you were a witch. His lips pressed together briefly, a trace of captivated amusement softening his expression as he processed it all. "So," he started, his voice a low, steady rumble, "you're a witch."