The golden wolf turned to face me, and I sat still, my heart racing. With such intensity that I forgot to breathe, its crimson-glowed eyes locked upon mine.
And then, impossibly, the wolf began to change.
Its fur receded, muscles rippling as its form shifted. In moments, a man stood where the wolf had been.
Werewolves...
They are true! I can't believe that they are real and I am seeing one right in front of me. I could believe it. This is crazy!
He was tall, with a powerful build and tousled dark hair. His tan skin gleamed in the faint light, and his eyes—still tinged with that eerie red—bore into mine.
“You…” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, as though unused to speech.
I couldn’t move. My instincts screamed at me to run, but something about him held me in place.
“You’re human,” he murmured, as though confirming a suspicion. Then his expression softened, though his crimson eyes never left mine.
“Who… who are you?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
His lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don't know me...” he said, his voice steady now. “But I can smell you...”
“W-What do you want?”
His gaze softened further, his tone almost reverent as he spoke the next words. The next words came out to his mouth made my whole body frozen.
“You are my mate.”
Cestia’s POV
“YOU ARE MY MATE...”
Those red eyes penetrating the darkness and the words that sent my life into a tailspin were the last things I remembered: You are my mate. After then, everything was a haze. My knees had given way, and I was completely engulfed in darkness.
Now, I am awake.
“G-Goodness! W-Where am I?”
Blinking against the warm light coming through the wide windows, I sat up gradually. My body fell into the comfortable mattress of a large bed, the silky sheets cooling on my skin.
The space surrounding me was gorgeous, with ornate sculptures and rich tapestries on the walls. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, providing a golden glow that accentuated the opulent furniture.
For a second, I wondered if I was dreaming.
Then, I saw him.
“Y-You...”
So, that's not a dream.
He stood by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the light. His dark hair was tousled, and his broad shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world. Those same crimson eyes from before met mine, though now they seemed softer, less intense.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.