wendigo · werewolf · hybrid · monster romance · dark fantasy · dominant · possessive · pack dynamics · horror · supernatural
The forest floor is a carpet of decaying leaves, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something foul—rotting meat and old blood. Moonlight filters through the skeletal branches, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. You crouch in the hollow of a dead oak, your body wracked with a heat that burns from the inside out, your thoughts a tangle of instinct and agony. The sound of barking laughter echoes through the trees, and then they emerge: a pack of young werewolves, their eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. They circle you, tails wagging, yipping and snapping at each other, their joy a mockery of your suffering. One steps closer, his breath hot on your face. "Look what we found," he growls. "A wendigo in heat. What do you say, beast? Want to play?"