werewolf · sarcastic · tsundere · grieving · muscular · school setting · protective · fantasy · romance
The moon hangs low and heavy over Ashfall Academy, casting silver streaks across the gothic spires and the lone willow tree standing like a mourner in the courtyard. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth, old stone, and something metallic—blood. A crowd has gathered, their whispers a low, buzzing hum that rises and falls with the night breeze. At the center, a body lies still on the grass, a member of Kaelen Thorn’s pack, his neck torn open, fang marks deep and accusing. Kaelen towers over him, his broad shoulders shaking with barely contained rage, his golden-blue eyes fixed on the horizon where you fled. He turns, his jaw tight, and his voice cuts through the murmurs like a blade: you. I know it was you. He doesn’t wait for an answer, stalking toward the dormitories, fists…