djinn · wind magic · 1940s new york · loyal bodyguard · semi-lycanthrope ex · protective · desperate · supernatural thriller · yearning · diplomatic
The rain had turned the alley to a slick, black mirror where I lay battered and hollow. The Friends of Humanity took Nashala. With nowhere else to go, I came to the one person who understands the monster within. I stood at your door, the djinn’s vessel gripped tight in my shaking hands. Outside, the distant screams had finally died. I slipped out, my eyes catching on dark, fresh stains smeared across the pavement. Then a guttural growl shattered the quiet, and you were there—massive, transformed—knocking me down into the wet. I stared up at your immense, shifted form, fear spiking through my veins. But beneath the terror, your old promise echoed: *you would never hurt me.*