Title: The Cure of the Howl
Author: Kassfinol
Genre: Paranormal Romance
All rights reserved
Chapter 1
The smell of industrial disinfectant hit me in the face the moment I crossed the doors of the Blackwood Institute. Nothing screams “high-security psychiatric facility” like that smell of chlorine mixed with institutional desperation.
—Dr. Moreno, thank you for coming on such short notice.
The director, a guy who looked like he’d sold his soul for an administrative position and good benefits, shook my hand with a force that tried to be firm but only came out sweaty.
—Dr. Hargrove —I replied, withdrawing my hand as discreetly as possible—. Your call was… intriguing.
Intriguing was putting it mildly. “Top-priority confidential case. Double your usual fee. High-risk patient with a military background. Possible post-traumatic stress disorder with severe violent manifestations.”
In other words, exactly the kind of case I’d spent the last eight years specializing in treating. And exactly the kind of case that made me doubt my sanity for accepting.
—Let me be direct, doctor. The patient Kael Donovan is extremely dangerous. He has hurt three previous therapists. Nothing serious, but… enough.
We walked down hallways that grew progressively narrower, quieter. The kind of silence that gets into your bones.
—And you expect me to get better results because…?
—Because you’re not afraid of trauma —he said, stopping in front of a steel door with a security system that looked straight out of a spy movie—. And because Mr. Donovan specifically requested a female therapist. None of the previous ones… well, let’s say their approach didn’t work.
Great. A violent patient with gender preferences for his treatment. Nothing problematic about that at all.
Hargrove swiped three different cards before the door made that suction sound security chambers have. On the other side there was another door. And then another. Matryoshkas of steel and paranoia.
—The sessions take place in Room C. There’s a security glass between you. Mr. Donovan will be restrained at all times. You’ll have a panic button. The guards will arrive in under thirty seconds.
—How bad can it be if he’s behind glass? —I asked, although the question was more for me than for him.
Hargrove looked at me with something that might have been pity.
—The howls, doctor. No one warned us about the howls.
Room C was exactly what I expected: cold, clinical, designed to make you feel watched. The dividing glass took up the whole wall, thick as my arm. On the other side, darkness. I could make out a silhouette sitting on a metal chair, motionless.
I settled in on my side, took out my recorder (analog, because they didn’t allow electronics) and took a deep breath.
—Mr. Donovan, I’m Dr. Elsa Moreno. Are you comfortable to begin?
Silence.
I counted to thirty. Basic technique: let the patient take the initiative if he needs to.
When I was already at forty-five, a voice came out of the darkness. Deep, raspy, as if it hadn’t been used in days.
—Why did you agree to come?
Not “doctor”. No formalities. Straight to the point.
—Because they pay me well. And because they say you’re a lost cause. I like challenges.
A sound that might have been laughter. Or a growl. Hard to tell.
—Everyone else was afraid. You’re afraid too. I can smell it.
Smell it.
Interesting choice of words.
—Fear isn’t incompatible with curiosity —I replied—. And yes, I’m afraid. You’re a man who hurt three professionals. It would be stupid not to be afraid.
The silhouette moved. It leaned forward, and for the first time I could see him.
Jesus.
Kael Donovan wasn’t what I expected. Messy dark hair, several days of beard, but what pinned me to my seat were his eyes. Gray. Or maybe… golden? The lighting was terrible, but I swear they glowed with their own light.
And the scars. God, the scars. They crossed his face like a map of violence, some old and silvery, others more recent.
—I like that you’re honest —he said—. The others lied. They said they wanted to “help me”. As if this had a cure.
—What is “this”, Kael?
His hands closed into fists on the table. White knuckles.
—Rage. Hunger. Instincts I can’t… control.
—Post-traumatic stress disorder. Panic attacks. Severe dissociation. I’ve worked with veterans before. You’re not the first who—
—I’m not like them.
He said it with such conviction that I fell silent.
He stood up, and holy God, he was huge. Over six foot three, pure tense muscle mass under an institutional gray T-shirt. He approached the glass, placed both hands on it.
—Every full moon is worse —he whispered—. The sounds, the smells, everything becomes… more. And the rage, doctor. The rage eats me alive.
Something in his voice raised the hair on my skin. It wasn’t a threat. It was pure desperation.
—We can work with that —I said, surprised at how firm my voice sounded—. Sensory hypervigilance, reactive aggressiveness, they’re treatable symptoms. But I need you to trust me.
Kael tilted his head, and the gesture was strangely canine.
—You shouldn’t want me to trust you. I’m dangerous, Elsa.
Using my first name should have bothered me. Instead, I felt something warm and disturbing coil in my stomach.
—We already established that I’m afraid —I replied—. Now tell me: do you want to get better or do you want to keep rotting in this cell?
His eyes definitely glowed golden. I was sure of it.
And then he howled.
Not a human scream. An animal howl, heartbreaking, that pierced the glass and drilled into my brain. Long, deep, full of an anguish so profound I felt tears burn in my eyes.
I stayed frozen, my heart trying to escape my chest.
When it ended, Kael was still looking at me. Waiting. Evaluating.
—Same time tomorrow —I said, putting away my recorder with hands that barely trembled—. And Kael, the next time you want to scare me, it’s going to cost you more.
A slow, almost predatory smile curved his lips.
—I wasn’t trying to scare you, doctor. I was just showing you that you should be afraid.
I left that room with legs like jelly and a horrible certainty settling in my chest: I had just met the most dangerous man of my career.
And the worst part was that I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter 2
That night I dreamed of howls and golden eyes.
I woke up at four in the morning, soaked in sweat, with the echo of that impossible sound still vibrating in my eardrums. My apartment… a thirty-square-meter studio that smelled of old coffee and academic ambition, felt too small, too silent.
I made coffee just because I needed to do something with my hands.
Kael Donovan’s file was pathetically thin for someone so obviously complicated. Ex-military, specialized unit, redacted classification. Honorably discharged two years ago. First violent episode recorded six months later. Initial diagnosis: severe PTSD with psychotic features.
Psychotic features. What a clinical way of saying “the guy howls like a wolf and thinks he loses control during the full moon”.
Except that…
I opened my laptop and looked up moon phases. Full moon in three days.
Coincidence, I told myself, knowing it was a lie.
The second session started differently.
Kael was already standing when I came in, almost pressed against the glass, as if he’d been waiting for me. The darkness on the other side was the same, but this time my eyes adapted faster.
I could see more details. The scars weren’t just cuts; some had strange patterns, as if something had clawed him. Claws, I thought, and I hated myself for thinking it.
—You came back —he said, and there was something like surprise in his voice.
—I told you I’d come. I’m not one to run away.
—You should be.
I sat down, crossed my legs, held his gaze.
—Tell me about your military unit. What did you do?
Immediate tension. His shoulders went rigid.
—Classified.
—Then tell me about after. When they discharged you. What happened?
Silence. But this time it wasn’t rejection; it was… processing. As if he were deciding how much truth he could give me.
—I felt… lost —he finally said—. As if they’d torn out an essential part of me. In the army, everything made sense. There was structure. Purpose. Hierarchy. And then nothing.
—That’s common in veterans. The transition to civilian life can be—
—It wasn’t that —he interrupted—. It was something deeper. As if I’d forgotten who I was without… without my pack.
Pack.
Not “my unit”.
Pack.
—Is that what you called your team?
A pause that was too long.
—Yes.
A lie. Or a half-truth. I could see it in the way he looked away.
—Kael, for this to work, I need you to be honest with me. Completely honest.
He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.
—I can’t be honest with you, doctor. If I were, you’d think I’m completely insane.
—I deal with “crazy people” professionally. Believe me, I’ve heard things that would give Stephen King nightmares.
Kael moved closer to the glass. So close his breath fogged it.
—Have you ever felt like you’re not… completely human?
My heart sped up.
—In what sense?
—I hear things others don’t hear. I smell emotions. I can tell when someone is lying by how their body temperature changes. And every full moon… —he clenched his fists— every full moon I feel like my skin is too small, like something inside me wants to get out.
I kept my expression neutral. Professional. Although inside I was cataloging: somatic delusions, extreme sensory hypervigilance, possible body dysmorphic disorder with an episodic component.
—And what wants to get out, Kael?
His eyes found mine. Golden. Definitely golden.
—The wolf.
Two more sessions. Four in total before it happened.
Kael started to open up, slowly, like a wound that’s been falsely closed for years. He told me about his childhood (normal, as far as I could see), about his recruitment (voluntary, looking for structure), about his first mission (traumatic, but no more than any combat).
And then, in the fourth session, he told me about the bite.
—It was in Kosovo —he said, looking at his hands as if they belonged to someone else—. Night mission. Something went wrong. Something attacked us in the forest. We thought it was a wild dog, maybe a wolf. It got my shoulder.
He took off his T-shirt.
I was left breathless.
His torso was a map of muscles and scars, but what pinned me to my seat was the mark on his left shoulder. It wasn’t a normal scar. It was…
—A bite —I whispered.
—It took weeks to heal. And when it healed, I was no longer the same.
—Kael, traumatic wounds can cause significant neurological changes, especially if there was infection or—
—There was no infection —he interrupted—. There was transformation.
There it was. The line between psychological trauma and outright delusion.
—Do you think that bite turned you into… what, exactly?
—Into what I am now. Into this.
He gestured at himself with something like disgust.
—A monster.
—You’re not a monster —I said, and I meant it—. You’re a traumatized man who needs help processing an experience your brain interpreted in a—
The howl returned.
Louder this time. Closer. And I, like an idiot, stood up and put my hand on the glass.
—Kael, look at me. You’re having a dissociative episode. I need you to breathe. Count with me. One… two…
But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at something behind me.
—Elsa, get away from the glass.
—Kael—
—NOW.
The roar in his voice made me step back instinctively.
And then the lights went out.
Total darkness. The kind of darkness that disorients you instantly.
And in that darkness, I heard something that froze my blood: the sound of glass breaking.
—Kael? —my voice came out sharper than I’d have liked.
Breathing. Heavy. Close.
Too close.
—Don’t move —his voice, but different. More guttural—. There’s something here.
Something? What the hell did something mean?
My eyes started to adapt. Vague shapes. The room suddenly felt much bigger than I remembered.
And then I saw it.
A shadow. Not Kael. Something else. Something that moved on four legs, too big to be a dog, too low to be a man.
Panic closed my throat.
The creature growled, a sound I felt vibrate in my chest, and prepared to leap.
And Kael appeared between us.
I didn’t see him move. One second he was meters away, the next he was in front of me, putting himself between the thing and me with his body as a shield.
—Get out —he ordered in a voice that didn’t sound entirely human—. She’s not yours.
The creature snorted, but backed away. And then, impossibly, it leaped toward a window that I swear was closed and disappeared into the night.
The lights came back.
Kael turned toward me, and what I saw made me back away until I hit the wall.
His eyes were completely golden. His breathing came out in gasps. And his hands… God, his hands had claws. Not long nails.
Claws.
—Elsa… —he extended a hand toward me and then pulled it back, as if it burned—. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see…
—What are you? —I could barely form words.
Pain. Pure pain crossed his face.
—I told you. A monster.
And before I could respond, before I could process anything I’d just seen, he moved away, put distance between us, and for the first time since I’d met him, I saw real fear in his eyes.
Fear of himself.
Fear of hurting me.
And there, in that moment of shared terror, something changed between us.
I was no longer just a therapist studying a case.
This had become dangerously, irrevocably personal.
Chapter 3
The guards arrived in exactly twenty-eight seconds.
Two huge men in black uniforms burst into the room as if they expected to find a battlefield. What they found was Kael in the farthest corner, hunched against the wall, trembling; and me, still pressed against my side of the broken glass, trying to control my breathing.
—Dr. Moreno, are you hurt? —the taller one took my arm with a firmness that bordered on painful.
—I’m fine —I lied, because I had no idea if it was true—. It was… a blackout. The glass broke. But Mr. Donovan protected me.
The look the guards exchanged was eloquent enough. They didn’t believe a damn thing I said.
—We need to secure the patient —said the other, taking out something that looked like a tranquilizer from his belt.
—No —the word came out before I could think—. He’s not agitated. He’s in control.
Kael raised his head, and his eyes were gray again. Human. Almost.
—Do whatever you have to do —his voice sounded shattered—. Just… make sure she gets out of here.
Twenty minutes later I was in Hargrove’s office, with a cup of tea I hadn’t asked for between my hands, listening to him talk about “security protocols” and “institutional liability” while my brain was still trying to process what I’d seen.
Claws. Golden eyes. That thing in the room.
—Dr. Moreno, are you listening to me?
I blinked, focusing on Hargrove for the first time.
—Sorry, what?
—I said we obviously need to suspend the sessions until we can guarantee—
—No.
He stopped mid-sentence.
—Excuse me?
—I’m not going to suspend the sessions. We just had a significant breakthrough.
—A breakthrough? The security glass is shattered! Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace that—?
—Kael protected me —I said, setting the cup down with more force than necessary—. There was a… an animal loose in the building, I don’t know how it got in, and he put himself between that thing and me. Do you know what that means? It means there’s control. There’s reasoning. There’s the ability to prioritize the safety of others over his own impulses.
Hargrove looked at me as if I’d just declared the earth was flat.
—Doctor, there was no animal. We checked the cameras. The blackout was an electrical failure, but the emergency cameras kept working. There’s no evidence of any creature.
Cold spread down my back.
—That’s impossible. I saw it. It was huge, it was right there—
—Exactly —he interrupted—. You saw it. Mr. Donovan has a documented history of inducing shared hallucinations in his therapists. It’s part of his pathology. Whatever you saw, doctor, it wasn’t real.
I stayed silent, because what could I say? That I’d also seen Kael transform? That his hands had claws that had now, presumably, disappeared without a trace?
I’d sound completely insane.
—I want to continue with the sessions —I repeated, more firmly—. With or without the security glass.
—Absolutely not. It’s an unacceptable risk—
—Then I quit.
Hargrove blinked.
—Excuse me?
—I quit my contract with the institute. And I offer my services to Kael Donovan privately. As his personal therapist.
It was a stupid bluff. I had no idea if Kael could pay my fees, or if he’d even want to see me after what had happened. But something inside me—something irrational and insistent—told me I couldn’t leave him.
Hargrove took off his glasses, cleaning them with deliberate slowness.
—Dr. Moreno, are you sure you don’t also need… evaluation? It’s been a traumatic experience.
I almost laughed. Almost.
—I’m perfectly sane, Dr. Hargrove. I’m just being aggressively professional.
We looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, he sighed.
—I’ll give you one more week. But the sessions will be with a guard present, glass replaced, and at the first sign of danger—
—Understood.
A lie. I didn’t plan to comply with a single one of those conditions.
I spent the next two days doing something that definitely violated every ethical code of my profession: investigating Kael Donovan outside official channels.
It turned out “classified” only meant “hard to find” if you knew where to look. And after eight years treating veterans, I’d accumulated a few contacts.
What I discovered made me wish I hadn’t looked.
Kael’s unit didn’t officially exist. But unofficially, there were rumors. There are always rumors. Operations in war zones no one wanted to claim. Missions that left enemies mutilated in ways that didn’t match any standard weaponry. Sightings of abnormally large “wild dogs” in areas where those animals shouldn’t exist.
And casualties. Many casualties. Not from enemy fire.
From “unknown causes”.
I closed my laptop, poured myself a whiskey I didn’t need, and admitted what I’d been denying for two days:
Either Kael Donovan was insane.
Or I was about to be.
Or—and this was the option that terrified me most—none of this was insanity.
The sixth session was three days later. Full moon that night.
Kael was different. More tense. He moved as if his skin fit too tight, exactly as he’d described. The new security glass was installed, but he didn’t even approach it.
He stayed against the back wall, almost hidden in the shadows.
—You shouldn’t be here —he said by way of greeting—. Especially today.
—Good morning to you too —I sat down, took out my recorder—. Tell me what you feel.
—Hunger. Rage. Need.
—Need for what?
A pause.
—To run. To hunt. To let out what I’ve been holding in.
—And if you could? If they let you out, run, do what your body asks you to?
He laughed, but it sounded broken.
—Do you know how many people would have to die for that to happen?
—I’m not suggesting you hurt anyone. I’m asking what would happen if we found a safe way to—
—There is no safe way —he interrupted—. Don’t you understand? When the wolf takes control, I… disappear. It’s pure instinct. Pure violence.
—Always?
That stopped him.
—What?
—Do you always lose control? Or were there times when you could keep some awareness?
Silence. Processing.
—Once —he finally admitted—. When I protected you. For a second, the wolf and I wanted the same thing. To keep you safe.
My heart did something stupid in my chest.
—Then it’s not impossible. There’s a bridge. A way to integrate both parts.
—Elsa… —he said my name like a warning—. You don’t know what you’re saying.
—I know exactly what I’m saying. I know that psychological fragmentation is treatable. I know that dissociation, however severe, can be worked on. And I know you don’t want to be a monster, Kael. You want to be human.
—And what if I can’t be both?
—What if you don’t have to choose?
He approached the glass then, fast, and held my gaze with an intensity that made me forget to breathe.
—You’re playing with fire.
—Maybe —I admitted—. But I’ve decided I’d rather burn than abandon you here.
Something changed in his expression. Something dangerous and tender at the same time.
—Why? You barely know me.
I didn’t have a good answer for that. Or rather, I had too many answers, none appropriate for the therapist-patient relationship.
Because when you look at me, I feel seen. Because your pain resonates with something in me I thought I’d buried. Because for the first time in years, I feel something more than professional curiosity.
—Because I believe in you —I finally said, which was true, but not the whole truth.
Kael put his hand on the glass. Slowly. Cautiously.
And I, God help me, put mine on the other side.
—If I do this —he said—, if I trust you, I need you to promise me something.
—What?
—That if I ever lose control. If I ever put you in danger. You’ll run. You won’t look back. Just… run.
—Kael—
—Promise it.
I nodded, knowing it was a lie.
If Kael lost control, if the wolf took power, I wouldn’t run.
I had no idea what I would do.
But it wouldn’t be fleeing.
That night, I stayed at the institute until late, reviewing notes, looking for patterns that might help.
It was past eleven when I heard the first howl.
It came from the containment wing. From Kael’s room.
I got up without thinking, without planning, and walked toward the sound as if it were calling me.
The night guards were at their stations, ignoring it. As if it were normal. As if every night a man screamed his soul out in the form of a howl and no one did anything.
I used my access card. One door. Two. Three.
—Dr. Moreno, you can’t be here —one of the guards blocked me—. Especially not tonight.
—Why? What’s happening tonight?
He looked at me as if I were particularly slow.
—Full moon. The patient is always… worse during the full moon.
Another howl, closer, and every cell in my body responded in a way that wasn’t scientific or rational.
—I need to see him.
—No.
—That’s not a request —I took out my phone—. I can call Hargrove right now, wake him up, and explain that you’re denying me access to my patient during a crisis. Or you can step aside.
The guard hesitated, then spoke into his radio.
The answer was so surprising I almost laughed: “Let her through. It’s her funeral.”
The last door opened.
And what I saw on the other side changed everything.
Chapter 4
Kael’s room was bigger than I expected. Not a cell, but something pretending to be a room, with a hospital bed, a desk bolted to the floor, and barred windows that let in the light of the full moon.
That silver light bathed everything in a sickly glow.
And in the center, Kael.
On his knees. Trembling. With his hands clutching his own head as if he could hold his skull together by sheer force of will.
—Kael —my voice came out barely as a whisper.
His head snapped up. His eyes glowed golden in the darkness, reflecting the light like an animal’s.
—Elsa… no… you shouldn’t…
He didn’t finish the sentence. His body arched backward, and the sound that came out of his throat was half human scream, half howl. I could see the tendons in his neck tense, his back contort.
And then I saw it.
His skin… moved. As if something underneath it were trying to get out. His hands convulsed, and I swear to God I saw his fingers lengthen, his nails darken and curve into claws.
This wasn’t a shared hallucination. This wasn’t psychosis.
This was real.
—Go —he growled, and his voice sounded distorted—. Please… go before I…
Another spasm. This time his face changed. Only for a second, but enough to see something more animal in his features, something wild and hungry.
All my education, all my years of training screamed at me to run. To leave. To call security.
Instead, I moved closer.
—Elsa, NO—
I knelt in front of him, so close I could feel the abnormal heat radiating from his body. High fever, my clinical brain thought. Over forty degrees, easily.
—Look at me —I ordered—. Kael, look at me.
His eyes found mine. Golden. Completely golden. Pupils dilated like a wolf’s.
—I can’t… stop it…
—You don’t have to stop it —I said, surprised at how calm my voice sounded—. You just have to keep me in your mind. Me. Here. Now. You’re not alone in this.
—I’m going to hurt you…
—You won’t.
—How can you be sure?
—Because the other night you protected me. Because every time you get too close, you pull away. Because even now, with your body falling apart, your first instinct is to warn me.
His hands closed into fists against the floor. I could hear the concrete crack under the pressure.
—It hurts —he gasped—. God, it hurts so much…
—I know —and although I didn’t know, not really, I wanted to know. I wanted to understand—. Breathe. Breathe with me.
—I can’t… breathe… I can only…
Another howl tore from his throat, and this time I screamed with him. Not out of fear. Out of empathy. Out of rage against whatever was doing this to him.
And then I did something completely irrational.
I put my hands on his face.
His skin burned. But underneath that heat, I felt something else. A vibration. As if every cell in his body were trying to rearrange itself and he were forcing them to stay still.
—You’re fighting so hard —I whispered—. All the time. Every second. No wonder you’re exhausted.
—I have to fight… if I don’t fight… if I let it win…
—What if it doesn’t have to be a fight? What if you could… I don’t know, negotiate? Find a middle ground?
A harsh, broken laugh.
—You don’t negotiate with a monster.
—Then negotiate with Kael —I insisted—. The human. The man who’s so terrified of hurting someone that he’d rather tear himself apart than let go of control.
His eyes locked onto mine. For a long, terrible moment, he said nothing.
And then, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it:
—Help me.
It wasn’t a professional request. It was something primal. Desperate.
—How? Tell me how and I’ll do it.
—I don’t know… just… stay. Keep talking. Your voice… helps. It keeps me… here.
So I talked.
I told him about my childhood. About how my father had left when I was seven and how my mother had raised me alone, working two jobs. About how I decided to study psychology because I wanted to understand why people hurt themselves, why they chose pain over change. About my first patient, a veteran with borderline personality disorder who taught me that trauma wasn’t something you “got over”—it was something you learned to live with.
I talked for hours. Or maybe minutes. Time became elastic, unreal.
And slowly, so slowly I almost didn’t notice, Kael started to calm down.
The tremors lessened. His breathing steadied. The golden glow in his eyes faded until they were gray again.
Human again.
When he finally relaxed, when his body stopped fighting itself, he collapsed forward. Straight toward me.
I caught him. Stupidly. Because he weighed like two hundred pounds of pure muscle and I was five foot three on a good day. But I held him anyway, letting his head fall against my shoulder, feeling his hot breath against my neck.
—I’m sorry —he murmured—. I’m so sorry.
—You don’t have to apologize.
—I almost… I could have…
—But you didn’t —I reminded him—. That’s the important part. You didn’t.
He laughed, exhausted.
—You’re too stubborn for your own good.
—I’ve been told.
We stayed like that, on the floor, bathed in moonlight, until my left leg went completely numb and I had to move.
Kael straightened up, getting to his feet with a grace he shouldn’t have had after what had just happened. He offered me his hand to help me up.
I took it without thinking.
And the moment our skin touched—his hand wrapping around mine, big and warm and surprisingly gentle—something changed.
Electricity. Chemistry. Whatever that thing is that makes two people look at each other and know, simply know, that they’re in trouble.
I didn’t let go of his hand. Neither did he.
—Elsa…
My name on his lips sounded like a warning and a promise at the same time.
—This is a bad idea —I said.
—Terrible idea —he agreed.
—Unethical.
—Completely inappropriate.
—I could lose my license.
—You could lose a lot more than that.
We looked at each other in the half-darkness, and all the tension of the last few weeks—the attraction I’d been ignoring, the fear I’d been swallowing, the connection I’d been denying—crystallized in that moment.
—Tell me to go —I whispered—. Tell me this can’t happen.
Kael raised his free hand, hesitated, and then brushed my cheek with his knuckles. The softest gesture I’d seen him make.
—I can’t —he admitted—. Because I’d be lying. And I promised you honesty.
—Kael…
—I’ve spent weeks trying not to look at you the way I look at you. Trying not to smell your perfume every time you enter the room. Trying not to imagine what it would feel like to touch you when I’m not trying not to kill you.
My breathing had become shallow.
—That’s… probably the most dysfunctional declaration anyone’s ever made to me.
A crooked smile curved his lips.
—I’m a mess, doctor. I thought you already knew that.
—I know —and I kissed him.
Or he kissed me. Honestly, I’m not sure who closed the distance first. I only know that one second we were apart and the next his mouth was on mine, hot and desperate and completely wrong in every important way.
And perfect in every way that mattered.
It wasn’t gentle. Nothing with Kael was gentle. It was hunger and need and weeks of tension exploding all at once. His hands found my waist, pressing me against him, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling.
He growled against my mouth, and the sound was so animal it should have scared me. Instead, something inside me responded. Something primal and instinctive I didn’t know I had.
—Elsa —he gasped, pulling away just enough to speak—. If we don’t stop now…
—I don’t want to stop.
—You don’t know what you’re saying…
—I know exactly what I’m saying —my hands slid down his chest, feeling tense muscles under the thin fabric of his T-shirt—. I’ve spent weeks analyzing you, studying you, trying to understand what you are. And now I just want to feel you.
Something dark and hungry shone in his eyes.
—I can’t promise I’ll be careful.
—I’m not asking you to be.
That broke his last shred of control.
He lifted me —literally lifted me off the floor as if I weighed nothing— and carried me to the bed. He dropped me onto the mattress, and before I could breathe, he was on top of me, his weight pressing me down in a way that should have made me feel trapped.
Instead, I felt anchored.
Safe.
Desired.
His hands found the edge of my blouse.
—Last chance —he warned—. After this, I can’t… I won’t be able to pretend this is just therapy.
—Good —I said, and pulled his T-shirt up—. Because I won’t either.
Chapter 5
I’d read enough literature on therapist-patient relationships to know exactly how many ethical lines I was crossing.
All of them.
I was crossing all the lines.
And as Kael slid my blouse off my shoulders, as his lips traced a path of fire down my neck, I didn’t care one bit.
His hands trembled. That detail—that small tremor of nervousness or restraint—broke my heart in an unexpected way.
—How long…? —I started to ask.
—Two years —he answered against my skin—. Since before… all of this. I haven’t been with anyone since I was bitten.
Because he was afraid of hurting someone. Of course.
—Look at me —I ordered softly.
He raised his head, those gray eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that left me breathless.
—I’m not going to break —I told him—. And you’re not going to break me. I trust you.
Something like pain crossed his face.
—You shouldn’t.
—Too late.
I kissed him again, this time more slowly, more deliberately. Exploring. Learning the taste of him, the texture of his lips, the low sound he made when my teeth grazed his lower lip.
His hands found my back, searching for the clasp of my bra with a clumsiness that was almost adorable. I almost laughed, but then he found it and the garment loosened, and his mouth went down my throat, my collarbone, lower…
I arched my back involuntarily when his lips found my breast, and the growl of satisfaction he made vibrated against my skin.
—Kael…
—Tell me if it’s too much —he murmured—. If I do anything you don’t…
—Shut up —I said, and pulled his hair hard enough to draw a moan from him—. Stop thinking. Just… feel.
Something changed in his expression. It became darker. Hungrier.
—Dangerous request, doctor.
—Stop calling me doctor when you’re trying to undress me.
A wolfish smile.
—Elsa, then?
—Better.
His hands went down my sides, finding the button of my pants. He undid it with more skill this time, sliding them down my legs along with my underwear in a single fluid motion.
And then I was completely exposed under his gaze.
I should have felt vulnerable. Uncomfortable. All those things you’re supposed to feel when someone sees you like that for the first time.
Instead, I felt powerful.
Because the way Kael looked at me—like I was something precious and terrifying at the same time—made me feel like I could conquer the world.
—Beautiful —he murmured, almost to himself—. Fuck, you’re…
He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my stomach. Then another, lower. And another.
My breathing quickened.
—Kael…
—Let me —he said against my skin—. Please. Let me make you feel good.
And then his mouth was where I needed it, hot and skilled and completely dedicated, and I lost all ability to form coherent thoughts.
My hands found the sheets, gripping them, while he undid me with a patience that contrasted violently with the urgency of minutes before. Every touch was deliberate. Calculated to draw out small sounds I’d normally have been embarrassed to make.
But there was no embarrassment here. Only sensation. Only him and me and this stolen moment in the middle of the chaos.
When I finally arched against his mouth with a stifled cry, when the waves of pleasure ran through me leaving me trembling, he moved up my body with soft, almost reverent kisses.
—Okay? —he asked, and there was something so genuinely worried in his voice that I wanted to kiss him until he forgot how to worry.
—More than okay —I gasped—. Your turn.
—You don’t have to…
—Kael —I said, rolling him onto his back, surprising him with the movement—. Stop acting like you don’t deserve this.
I straddled him, still completely naked, and enjoyed the way his eyes darkened as he looked at me.
—You’re impossible —he murmured.
—I’ve been told.
I slid my hands under his T-shirt, pushing it up. He sat up enough to pull it off over his head, and there it was again: that map of scars and muscles I’d seen before but never touched.
Until now.
I traced the silvery lines with my fingers, memorizing each one.
—Do they hurt?
—Not anymore. They just… remember.
—Remember what?
—That I’m different. That I’m not completely human.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss right over his heart.
—You’re human where it matters.
His hands found my hips, holding me with a firmness that bordered on possessive.
—Elsa… I need… God, I need you…
—Then take me.
Something wild shone in his eyes. He lifted me again—his superhuman strength so evident, so impossible to ignore—and positioned me over him.
—Are you sure?
In answer, I sank down onto him, taking him completely.
We both moaned at the same time.
There was nothing gentle after that. It was all urgency and need and two people desperately trying to merge into one. He pushed upward while I moved downward, finding a rhythm that was more instinct than technique.
His hands were everywhere—my back, my thighs, my hair—as if he couldn’t decide where to touch me, as if he wanted to memorize every centimeter of my skin.
—Elsa… I’m not going to… I can’t last…
—You don’t have to last —I gasped—. Just… let go…
I clung to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense under my palms, and then I felt it.
Heat.
Not normal heat. Heat abnormal. As if his body temperature were rising degree by degree.
And the scars under my hands…
I blinked, looking down.
There were more. Many more than I remembered. And some… some looked different. As if they were changing. Moving.
—Kael… —my voice came out trembling.
His eyes opened suddenly, and they were golden again. Completely golden.
—No… shit… Elsa, I have to…
He tried to separate, to push me away, but I held him.
—No. Don’t you dare. Stay with me.
—I’m losing control…
—Then lose it —I said, and kissed him with everything I had—. Lose it with me.
I felt the exact moment he surrendered. When he stopped fighting and simply gave himself over to the sensation, to the moment, to me.
The orgasm hit him like a wave, and his roar, because it wasn’t a moan, it was a roar, reverberated through the room. I followed him seconds later, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly become liquid.
We collapsed together, breathing heavily, sweaty and tangled.
And it was in that postcoital silence, with my head on his chest listening to his heart beat too fast, that I noticed something else.
Hair.
There was hair on his chest that definitely hadn’t been there before. Not normal body hair. Something thicker. Darker.
I raised my gaze slowly.
Kael was looking at me with an expression of absolute panic.
—Elsa… I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to see…
I sat up, and really looked at him.
His face was changing. Subtly, but undeniably. His features looked more angular. His teeth, when he opened his mouth to speak, seemed sharper.
And his eyes. Those damn golden eyes that now glowed with their own light.
I should have screamed. I should have run.
Instead, I put my hand on his cheek, feeling the impossible heat of his skin, the beginning of something that might have been hair or might have been something else.
—Show me —I said.
—What?
—The wolf. Show me. Stop fighting. Just… show me what you really are.
Horror crossed his face.
—No. Elsa, no. If I do that, if I let it out completely…
—I trust you —I repeated—. Enough for this. Enough for everything.
—You’re insane…
—Probably —I admitted—. But I need to see. I need to know.
We looked at each other for a long moment. I could see the war in his eyes—the fear of hurting me fighting against the relief of finally, finally, being able to show someone the complete truth.
—If I do this —he said slowly—. If I show you… there’s no going back. You can’t pretend you didn’t see it. You can’t…
—Kael —I interrupted—. I’ve already crossed all the lines. I’ve already made all the stupid decisions. Just… trust me like I trust you.
He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.
And he let go.
Chapter 6
The transformation wasn’t like in the movies.
There were no bones grotesquely breaking or screams of agony. It was more subtle. More terrifying because of how organic it felt.
Kael’s skin rippled like water. His spine arched, but not from pain—from liberation. As if he could finally stretch after being cramped for too long.
The hair spread over his chest, his arms, his face. Dark and thick. His hands lengthened, fingers becoming claws that tore the sheets without even trying.
And his face…
God, his face.
The bones rearranged, the jaw extended, the nose and mouth fused into something that was half human, half animal. A snout. He had a snout, with fangs that gleamed in the moonlight.
But his eyes—those damn golden eyes—were still Kael’s.
They looked at me with absolute terror. Expecting me to scream. To run.
I stayed exactly where I was.
Sitting on the bed, naked, looking at a creature that technically shouldn’t exist.
A werewolf.
My patient was a fucking werewolf.
And I’d just slept with him.
Okay, Elsa. Process. Breathe. Don’t panic.
—Kael —I said, and my voice only trembled a little—. Can you understand me?
A nod. Slow. Cautious.
—Can you speak?
He tried. What came out was a guttural sound, half growl, half word. He closed his mouth—snout—with frustration.
—It’s okay —I moved slowly, getting off the bed, keeping eye contact—. You don’t need to talk. Just… don’t move, okay? Give me a second.
My hands trembled as I picked up my clothes from the floor. Not from fear —well, not only from fear— but from pure sensory overload. My brain was trying to catalog the impossible, to fit a werewolf into some diagnostic category that made sense.
Dissociative identity disorder with shared somatic hallucinations, suggested the rational part of my mind.
He’s a fucking lycanthrope, said the other part, more honest.
Accept reality and move on.
I dressed with mechanical movements, aware that Kael hadn’t taken his eyes off me once. He followed each of my movements with an almost predatory intensity.
When I finished, I sat on the edge of the bed. Not too close—I wasn’t suicidal—but close enough for him to know I hadn’t fled.
—So —I said, with a calm I didn’t feel—. Lycanthropy. Real. Documented. This is going to revolutionize the medical literature.
A sound that might have been laughter came from his throat.
—How long? —I asked—. Not since Kosovo. That was… what, three years ago? But you look like you’ve had time to… adapt. More or less.
He raised a hand—claw—and extended three fingers. Then a fourth.
—Four years?
He shook his head. He pointed at his chest, then toward the moon.
—Four years since the bite, but the first transformation came later?
A nod.
Okay. That made sense. Well, as much sense as anything could in this shitty situation.
—And in the army… did your unit know?
A more emphatic nod.
—Did your whole unit…?
Another nod.
Of course. A unit of werewolves. Probably the reason they were so effective in combat. The reason the classified missions ended with enemies mutilated in ways that didn’t match any known weaponry.
—And now? Where are the others?
Kael lowered his gaze. His ears—wolf ears, holy God—flattened against his head.
—Dead —I guessed quietly—. That’s why you’re alone.
The moan that came out of him was pure pain. I closed my eyes, feeling that pain resonate in my chest.
—I’m sorry —I said—. No… I didn’t have to ask that.
He stayed still for a long moment. Then, slowly, he approached. Not the way a human approaches—but on all fours, with fluid and graceful movements that were completely animal.
I tensed instinctively, but I didn’t back away.
He stopped centimeters away. So close I could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close his breath—hot and strangely sweet—caressed my face.
And then he did something completely unexpected.
He rested his head in my lap.
The gesture was so… submissive. So vulnerable. This apex predator, this creature that could tear me apart in seconds, putting himself in the most defenseless position possible.
Trusting me.
My hands moved before I could stop them, sinking into the thick fur on his head. It was softer than I expected. Warm. Real.
So fucking real.
—Okay —I said, more to myself than to him—. Okay. This is what we’re going to do. I’m not going to panic. I’m not going to call anyone. I’m not going to run out screaming about werewolves.
A small snort. Laughter? Relief?
—But I need you to understand something —I continued, scratching behind his ears without thinking—. This doesn’t change anything. Well, it changes everything, obviously. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to help you. That I’m going to help you.
He raised his head, looking at me with those eyes that were Kael even in this form.
—I don’t know how yet —I admitted—. There’s not exactly a therapy manual for werewolves. But we’re going to figure it out. Together.
He looked at me for a long moment. Then, deliberately, he extended a claw and pressed it gently against my chest. Right over my heart.
The message was clear:
You. It’s you. You’re the reason it’s worth trying.
I put my hand over his —claw— feeling the impossible size, the barely contained strength.
—We’re going to need to establish some limits —I said—. Basic rules. Like, I don’t know, “don’t transform during therapy sessions”. Or “warn me before a full moon”. Things like that.
Another sound that was definitely laughter.
—Can you… come back? —I asked—. To being human? Or are you stuck like this until…?
He moved away from me, backing up a few steps. He closed his eyes, and I could see the concentration in every line of his body.
The reverse transformation was faster. As if it were easier to be human than wolf, although I suspected it was because he’d been holding himself back for so long.
In less than a minute, Kael was kneeling on the floor. Human. Naked. Trembling slightly from the effort.
—Elsa —his voice came out hoarse—. I need you to know… what you just did… no one… no one ever…
—Has anyone ever seen you like that and stayed?
He shook his head.
—Well —I said, standing up and offering him my hand—. Then I guess I’m officially the stupidest or bravest therapist in the world. I haven’t decided which yet.
He took my hand, letting me help him up.
—Probably both —he said, and there was something in his gaze that made me forget how to breathe.
—Kael…
—I love you.
The words fell between us like stones.
—I know it’s too fast —he continued—. I know it’s probably just adrenaline or gratitude or some psychological shit you could diagnose. But I needed to say it. Because in my life, the people who matter tend to die, and I don’t want to die without you knowing that…
I kissed him.
Hard. Desperate. Pouring everything I couldn’t say out loud into that kiss.
Me too. I don’t know if it’s love yet, but it’s something. Something huge and terrifying and completely inappropriate. And I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except this.
When we separated, we were both gasping.
—We’re going to have to work on your romantic declarations —I said—. The part about death was a bit depressing.
He smiled. A real smile. The first I’d seen from him.
—I’ll work on that.
—Good.
—But first I need you to get out of here.
The change in tone made me take a step back.
—What? Why?
—Because the guards are about to do their rounds. And if they find you here, in my room, after midnight, with all your clothes wrinkled and smelling of…
—Oh.
Oh.
—Yes.
—Shit.
—Exactly.
I hurried toward the door, then stopped.
—Tomorrow. Same time. And Kael… thank you for trusting me.
—Thank you for staying.
I left that room with my heart galloping and my head spinning.
I’d just slept with a werewolf.
I’d just watched a man transform into a mythical creature.
And instead of fleeing, instead of calling the authorities or questioning my sanity, I’d decided to help him.
I’m officially insane, I thought.
But as I walked through the empty hallways of the institute, dodging guards and cameras, I couldn’t help smiling.
Because for the first time in years, I felt completely, intensely alive.
Three days later, everything went to hell.
Chapter 7
I should have known the peace wouldn’t last.
The next three days were a carefully orchestrated farce. “Professional” sessions during the day where Kael and I pretended to maintain appropriate boundaries. Nights where I snuck into his room like a teenager, risking my career, my reputation, and possibly my life.
Worth every second.
Kael taught me things about his world I never would have imagined. How his senses worked—he could hear my heart beating from across the room, smell my emotions on my skin. How the pack hierarchy worked, why being alone was slowly killing him. Wolves weren’t made for solitude.
And I taught him things about himself he’d forgotten. That he could laugh. That he could be gentle. That the wolf and the man didn’t have to be at constant war.
We were making real progress. I could see it in how he transformed now—with more control, less panic. In how he could maintain his human consciousness even when the wolf took form.
I should have known it was too good to last.
On the fourth night after our first time, I arrived at his room and found Kael standing by the window, tense as a wire about to snap.
—What’s wrong? —I asked, closing the door behind me.
—There’s someone here —he said without turning around—. Someone like me.
My heart sped up.
—Another werewolf?
—Three. Maybe four. I can smell the mark of my old pack.
—I thought they were dead.
—Most of them —he turned toward me, and there was something wild in his eyes—. But some survived. And they just arrived to claim me.
—Claim you? Kael, what are you talking about?
Before he could answer, the door burst open.
Not the guards. Three people I’d never seen: two men and a woman, all dressed in casual clothes, but moving with the same predatory grace as Kael.
Their eyes glowed golden in the half-darkness.
—Kael —said the woman, and her voice was pure ice—. Enough of this circus. It’s time to come home.
—I have no home, Mara —Kael replied, instinctively placing himself between them and me—. Not since you let half the pack die.
—Strategic decisions —said one of the men, a huge guy with scars rivaling Kael’s—. War casualties. You understand that.
—I understand that you abandoned your Alpha when he needed you most.
Alpha. Of course. Kael had been the leader.
The woman—Mara—looked at me for the first time, and the evaluation in her eyes made me feel like prey.
—And who is this? —she asked—. Your new human pet?
—Careful —Kael’s voice came out as a growl—. You’re overstepping.
—Am I overstepping? —Mara laughed—. Kael, don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of your therapist. That’s… pathetic even for you.
—Mara…
—She smells like you —observed the other man, sniffing the air—. All over. Oh, this is perfect. The great Kael Donovan, reduced to rolling around with humans.
The temperature in the room rose several degrees. Literally. I could feel the heat radiating from Kael, his control slipping.
—Get out —he said—. Now.
—We can’t do that —Mara took a step forward—. We came to recover our Alpha. And we’re not leaving without you.
—I’m not your Alpha. I gave up that title when you decided missions mattered more than the pack.
—You can’t give up what you are —said the big man—. Blood calls to blood, Kael. Eventually, you’ll come back.
—Over my dead body.
—That can be arranged.
The tension exploded.
The three visitors moved at the same time, faster than my eyes could follow. Kael transformed mid-leap, his body expanding, fur sprouting, and suddenly there were four wolves in the room and I was pressed against the wall trying not to die.
The sound was deafening—growls, snapping jaws, the dull thud of bodies hitting walls. I couldn’t tell who was who in the chaos of fur and fangs.
And then one of them—Mara, I think—broke away from the group and headed straight for me.
Her eyes were completely animal. Hungry.
She’s going to kill me, I thought with surprising clarity.
She’s going to kill me just to hurt Kael.
Kael roared—a sound that shook the windows—and threw himself between us.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
Mara’s claws reached my shoulder, tearing my blouse and skin at the same time. The pain was instant, burning, and I screamed.
The sound seemed to break something in Kael.
What happened next was pure violence.
He moved like I’d never seen him move, with a ferocity that made his previous episodes look like child’s play. He grabbed Mara by the throat and slammed her against the wall so hard the concrete cracked.
The other two wolves lunged at him, but he shook them off as if they were puppies. His size had increased —how was that possible? —until he was almost twice the size of the others.
Alpha, I suddenly understood.
This is what it means to be Alpha.
—ENOUGH —the roar came out half human, half animal, pure primal authority.
The three wolves froze. Literally stayed motionless, as if an invisible force had pinned them in place.
Kael transformed back, but kept a claw on Mara’s throat.
—Listen to me carefully —he said, and his voice was ice—. She’s mine. My mate. And if any of you touches her again, there won’t be enough of your bodies left to bury. Understood?
Mate? What the hell did that mean?
Mara tried to speak, but the pressure on her throat made it impossible. She nodded instead.
—Good. Now you’re going to leave this building. You’re going to go back to what’s left of the pack. And you’re going to tell them that Kael Donovan is dead to them. Clear?
The three nodded.
Kael released them, and they crawled toward the door with their tails literally between their legs.
Before leaving, Mara turned around.
—This isn’t over —she said—. The Council will want to talk to you. And when they find out about… her…
—Let them come —Kael replied—. I’ll be waiting.
They left, and the silence they left behind was deafening.
Kael turned toward me, and the transformation in his expression was instant—from lethal predator to desperate concern.
—Elsa. God, Elsa, your shoulder…
The adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving only pulsing pain in its place. I looked down. My blouse was soaked in blood.
—It’s fine —I said, although it clearly wasn’t—. Just scratches…
—They’re not just scratches —he lifted me with ridiculous care, carrying me toward the bed—. Wolf claws have bacteria. If they’re not treated properly…
—Am I going to turn into a werewolf?
He looked at me as if I were crazy.
—No. It doesn’t work like that. You need to be bitten, and the venom has to enter your bloodstream during the full moon, and… no. You’re not going to transform.
—Oh. Good. Because honestly, one of us with anger control problems is enough.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. All the terror of the last few minutes came out at once, and suddenly I was trembling, tears running down my cheeks.
—Hey, hey… —Kael hugged me, careful of my injured shoulder—. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.
—Mate? —I sobbed against his chest—. What the hell is that?
He went rigid.
—Elsa…
—No. Don’t “Elsa” me. You just declared to a group of homicidal werewolves that I’m your mate. What does that mean?
He sighed.
—It means… partner. For life. Wolves mate for life. And when I said that, I was basically telling them you’re untouchable. That hurting you is the same as attacking me.
—And you didn’t think to ask me first?
—You were about to die. There wasn’t exactly time for consensus.
He had a point. A very valid point. But still.
—Kael, you can’t… you can’t just decide that we’re partners for life without…
—Without what? —he looked at me with those gray eyes that knew too much—. Without asking if you feel the same? Elsa, you’ve spent three days risking everything to be with me. You’ve seen the worst of me and you stayed. Shit, you just survived a werewolf attack and the first thing you do is make jokes.
—It’s my defense mechanism.
—I know. And it’s adorable. And terrifying. And completely yours.
He kissed me, soft, careful of my injured shoulder.
—You don’t have to say anything now —he murmured against my lips—. Just… think about it. Because I’ve already decided. It’s you. For me, it will always be you.
Before I could respond, the door opened again.
This time it really was the guards. With Hargrove behind them, looking paler than a ghost.
—Dr. Moreno —he said in a trembling voice—. What… what was that? The cameras recorded… animals… it’s not possible…
Shit.
The cameras.
Of course there were cameras.
Kael and I exchanged a look.
And in that moment, I knew everything had changed.
We could no longer hide.
We could no longer pretend.
The world was about to discover that werewolves were real.
And I was in love with one.
Chapter 8
Hargrove looked at us as if we’d lost our minds. Or as if he were losing his. Probably both.
—Dr. Hargrove —I said in the calmest voice I could muster, considering I was bleeding and had just witnessed a werewolf fight—. I need medical attention. And then I need us to talk. The three of us. In private.
—I… the cameras… there were…
—In private —I repeated more firmly—. Unless you want this to become a media circus that destroys your institute, your reputation, and possibly your sanity.
That seemed to penetrate his shock. He looked at my bleeding shoulder, then at Kael, then back at me.
—Infirmary. Now. And Donovan stays here, under guard.
—No —I said—. He comes with me.
—Dr. Moreno, he’s clearly dangerous—
—Not to me. And if you want answers, you need both of us.
We looked at each other for a long moment. Finally he nodded, although he looked like he wanted to vomit.
The nurse on duty—a fifty-year-old woman named Patricia who had probably seen it all—barely blinked at my wounds.
—Animal attacks —she murmured, cleaning the blood—. I see more and more of these. Big dog?
—Something like that —I said.
Kael stood in the corner, escorted by two guards who looked terrified. I didn’t blame them. He still radiated that Alpha energy, that presence that said apex predator in every line of his body.
—The wounds are deep —said Patricia—. She’s going to need stitches. Are you up to date on your rabies vaccine?
—Yes —I lied, because what was I going to say?
Don’t worry, it was just a she-wolf, not a rabid animal?
While Patricia stitched my shoulder with professional efficiency, Hargrove came in and out of the room like a ghost, muttering to himself and checking his phone compulsively.
—The cameras —he said finally—. I need… how do I explain the cameras?
—What exactly did they show? —I asked.
—Wolves. Wolves huge. In the building. Fighting. And then… disappearing. As if they’d never existed.
I looked at Kael. He returned my gaze with a neutral expression.
—Dr. Hargrove —I said once Patricia finished and left—. I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. And I need you to understand that I’m completely sane.
—Dr. Moreno…
—Kael Donovan doesn’t have post-traumatic stress disorder. He doesn’t have psychosis. He’s not delusional.
—Then what does he have?
—Lycanthropy.
Absolute silence.
—Lycanthropy real —I continued—. Not the delusion. Not the psychiatric condition where someone believes they’re a werewolf. The real thing. Physical transformation. Shape-shifting. Werewolves.
Hargrove looked at me as if I’d just shouted something enormously stupid.
—Dr. Moreno, I understand you’ve been through a traumatic experience—
—Show him —I told Kael.
—Elsa…
—Show him. It’s the only way.
Kael sighed, then looked at the guards.
—You’re going to want to step back.
To their credit, they did. Fast.
And then Kael transformed.
This time he did it slowly, deliberately, so Hargrove could see every second. The fur sprouting, the bones rearranging, the human becoming a wolf before our eyes.
Hargrove went white as paper. He staggered backward, crashing into the wall.
—My God —he whispered—. My God, it’s not possible, this can’t be…
—It’s possible —I said—. And it’s real. And there are more like him.
Kael transformed back, naked and unashamed. One of the guards threw him a robe that he put on with economical movements.
—How many? —Hargrove asked in a trembling voice—. How many are there?
—I don’t know —Kael admitted—. My pack was eighteen. Seven died in combat. The rest… scattered. But there are other packs. All over the world. We’ve existed for… shit, probably millennia.
—And does the government know?
—Some sectors. The ones that need to know. We’re useful in war zones. Expendable.
Hargrove sank into a chair, putting his head in his hands.
—This is… I can’t… what am I supposed to do with this information?
—Nothing —I said—. Delete the recordings. Invent a story about wild dogs that came in through a broken window. And let us go.
He raised his head sharply.
—Go? Go where?
—Far from here —I looked at Kael—. The ones from his pack said something about a Council. They’re going to come, right?
He nodded.
—Eventually. And when they do, this place isn’t going to be safe. For anyone.
—Then we’re leaving —I said—. Tonight. Before they arrive.
—Dr. Moreno —Hargrove stood up—. You can’t… you’re talking about running away with a patient. About abandoning your post. Your license—
—To hell with my license —I interrupted—. Kael isn’t my patient. Not anymore. He’s…
I stopped, the words stuck in my throat.
—He’s what? —Hargrove asked.
I looked at Kael. He returned my gaze, waiting. Without pressuring.
—He’s mine —I finally said—. And I’m his. And I’m not going to let him face this alone.
Something shone in Kael’s eyes. Relief. Gratitude. Love.
—You’re insane —Hargrove said—. Both of you. Completely insane.
—Probably —I admitted—. But I’m going to need you to help us anyway.
—Why the hell would I do that?
—Because if you don’t, when the Council arrives and discovers you were keeping their Alpha prisoner, this institute is going to become a battlefield. And I don’t think your insurance covers werewolf damage.
I watched him calculate. Consider. Make the most pragmatic decision.
—You have until dawn —he finally said—. After that, officially I know nothing. I never saw you. And Mr. Donovan escaped during the night.
—Thank you —I said.
—Don’t thank me. Just… leave before I change my mind.
Two hours later, I was in my apartment packing the essentials into a backpack. Clothes. Documents. Cash I’d been saving for emergencies.
I guess this qualifies as an emergency, I thought hysterically.
Kael stood at the door, keeping watch, still in the hospital robe because we didn’t have time to get him proper clothes.
—Do you have anywhere to go? —I asked—. Anyone who can help us?
—There’s a cabin. In Montana. Neutral territory. It belonged to my previous Alpha, before he died. No one has claimed it.
—How far?
—Two days by car. If we drive without stopping.
—Okay. Montana. I can work with that.
I closed the backpack, took one last look at my apartment. Eight years of my life in this city. My career. My patients. Everything I’d built.
—Elsa —Kael’s voice was soft—. You don’t have to do this. I can go alone. You can stay, rebuild…
—No —I interrupted—. I’m not going to do that. I told you you were mine. I meant it.
—But your life…
—My life is mine to do with as I please. And I want to be with you. So unless you’re rejecting me…
I crossed the room and kissed him before he could finish the sentence.
—Never —he murmured against my lips—. I’d never reject you.
—Good. Then let’s go before—
A howl cut through the night.
We froze.
—Elsa… —Kael tensed—. That’s not from my pack.
—Then whose is it?
—The Council’s. They arrived faster than I thought.
Another howl. Closer. Then another. And another.
They were surrounding us.
—Shit —Kael pushed me behind him—. Okay. Change of plans. We’re going to have to run.
—Run where?
—To the car. Now. And when I say run, run. Understood?
—Kael, I’m not going to leave you—
—You’re not leaving me. I’ll be right behind you. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?
I nodded, although every instinct screamed at me that this was a bad idea.
—Good. On three. One… two…
The window exploded inward.
A huge wolf—silver-gray with eyes that shone like mercury—landed in the middle of my living room. Followed by another. And another.
Five in total. All bigger than Kael when he transformed. All looking at me as if I were their next meal.
—Run —Kael roared, transforming mid-shout.
And I ran.
Chapter 9
I’d never run so fast in my life.
I went down the stairs of my building three at a time, with the sound of growls and bodies colliding exploding behind me. My injured shoulder protested with every movement, but the adrenaline blocked the pain.
Keep running. Don’t look back. Trust him.
I got out to the parking lot, frantically searching for my car with trembling hands. The keys slipped between my sweaty fingers.
—Come on, come on, come on…
A heartbreaking howl tore through the night. Kael. I’d recognize that sound anywhere.
I looked back without being able to help it.
My building—my damn four-story building—had wolves climbing up the walls like something out of a nightmare. Their claws sank into the brick as if it were butter. And in the middle of the chaos, I could see Kael fighting three at once.
He was losing.
They were bigger, faster, and it was five against one.
No. No, no, no.
—KAEL! —I screamed, knowing it was stupid, knowing it would only draw attention to me.
His head turned toward my voice. A second of distraction.
It was all they needed.
One of the silver wolves hit him sideways, sending him flying against a wall with a force I heard break something. Kael fell heavily, without moving.
The world shrank to that point. To Kael motionless on the ground. To the five wolves closing in for the final blow.
And something inside me simply… broke.
I didn’t think. I just acted.
I ran back, grabbing the first thing I found, a metal bar from the dumpster, and when I was close enough I threw myself at the nearest wolf.
—GET AWAY FROM HIM!
The metal connected with its head with a satisfying sound. The wolf howled, more from surprise than pain, turning toward me.
Five pairs of golden eyes looked at me. Evaluating. Deciding if I was worth killing.
Probably yes, thought the rational part of my brain that was still working.
One of them, the biggest, with almost black fur… transformed. A man almost two meters tall, completely naked, with ritual scars covering his chest.
—So you’re the human —he said in a voice that sounded like gravel—. The one who has corrupted our Alpha.
—Corrupted —I repeated, holding the bar with trembling hands—. Interesting choice of words coming from guys who are basically hunting one of their own.
—Kael Donovan abandoned his pack. Abandoned his duty. And now he rolls around with humans, forgetting what he is.
—He forgot nothing. You abandoned him first.
The man approached. Slowly. Like a predator who knows his prey has nowhere to go.
—You don’t understand our way of life, little human. You can’t. We’re more than your limited mind can comprehend.
—I understand perfectly —I dropped the bar, knowing it was useless—. I understand that you’re cowards who can’t accept that their Alpha left them because you’re shit.
Mistake.
Huge mistake.
The man’s fist closed around my throat before I could blink, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed nothing.
—You should choose your words more carefully —he growled—. Your life hangs by a very thin thread.
I couldn’t breathe. Black dots danced in my vision.
And then the man went flying.
Literally. One second he was strangling me, the next he was three meters away, crashing into a car with such force that it set off the alarm.
Kael was standing. Bleeding. Staggering. But standing.
And absolutely furious.
—You touched. My. Mate.
Each word came out like thunder. Like a primal command that made all the wolves, including the one who had attacked me, shrink instinctively.
—Kael —said the man, getting up with difficulty—. Be reasonable. She’s just a human. There are thousands—
—There is one Elsa —Kael interrupted—. And she’s mine. Declared. Claimed. Under Alpha protection. And you, Council members who are supposed to respect the old laws, just violated every single one of them.
Oh.
Oh.
I finally understood. They weren’t here to kill Kael. They were here to… what? Recruit him? Force him to come back?
And I was the obstacle.
—Mate laws only apply to our species —said the man—. You can’t claim a human. It’s against…
—Against what? —Kael approached, and with each step his presence grew, filled the space—. Against tradition? Against your arbitrary rules? Fuck your rules. I was Alpha of the deadliest pack on two continents. You used me, you squeezed me dry, you let my people die, and then you expected me to simply accept orders from the Council like a good little soldier.
He transformed, but this time it was different. Bigger than ever. His fur was black as night, with silver markings that gleamed in the streetlight. And his eyes…
His eyes were red.
Blood red.
The five Council wolves backed away.
—Primary Alpha —one of them whispered—. Impossible. That lineage died centuries ago…
—Surprise —Kael growled in a voice that was half human, half wolf—. Now you have exactly ten seconds to get out of my territory before I show you exactly what Primary Alpha means.
They didn’t need ten seconds.
They were gone in five, tails between their legs and howls of submission.
The moment they disappeared, Kael collapsed.
I dragged myself toward him, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, in my lungs that still couldn’t quite breathe.
—Kael. Kael, look at me.
He transformed back, gasping, trembling. There was blood—a lot of blood—soaking his side.
—Elsa… are you…?
—I’m fine. You’re the one bleeding all over the place.
—Just… scratches…
—Liar.
A weak laugh.
—I learned from the best.
—We need to go to a hospital.
—No. Hospitals ask questions. And I can’t… I can’t explain how I heal.
—You heal? How fast?
—Give me… a few hours. I’ll be fine.
He said it with such confidence I almost believed him.
—Okay. No hospital. But we need to get out of here. Can you move?
—I can… do anything if it’s with you.
God, even half dead he was cheesy.
Between the two of us—more like me half dragging him, him half transforming to hold himself up—we got to my car. I dropped him in the passenger seat, went around the vehicle, and started it before I could think about everything I was leaving behind.
I drove. With no clear destination. Just away.
After an hour, Kael spoke:
—Montana. North. Route 93.
—Do you still want to go there? After… all of that?
—Especially after all of that —he coughed, and I saw blood on his lips—. It’s the only safe place now.
—Why?
—Because it’s Primary Alpha territory. Sacred ground. Not even the Council can touch it without…
He stopped, groaning in pain.
—Without what, Kael?
—Without declaring war. Against me. And you saw what happened when they just tried to intimidate me.
He was right. He’d terrified them.
—What is a Primary Alpha? —I asked—. They said that lineage died…
—It was supposed to have died. Three hundred years ago. When humans hunted the last ones. But my great-grandfather survived. He hid. He blended in. And the gene… it only skips generations. My father was normal. My grandfather was normal. I…
—You’re not normal.
—Not at all.
Silence. Only the sound of the engine, of the road sliding under the tires.
—Why didn’t you tell me before? —I finally asked.
—Because I didn’t know. Not until… until tonight. The Primary Alpha only wakes up when there’s an existential threat. When his mate is in danger.
Mate.
That word again. Loaded with meaning I still didn’t fully understand.
—Kael… when you said I was your mate… what exactly does that imply?
He looked at me with eyes that were returning to their normal gray.
—Everything —he said simply—. It implies everything. That we’re bound. That your life is my life. That, if you die, I… would probably follow you. That I’ll be able to feel you no matter where you are. That your pain is my pain.
—That sounds… intense.
—It is.
—And can’t I… I don’t know, revoke that? Change my mind?
Pain crossed his face.
—You could. But it would kill me. Literally. Alphas don’t survive a mate’s rejection.
Oh.
Oh.
—So you basically just gave me power of life or death over you.
—Yes.
—You’re an idiot.
—Probably.
—And I’m an idiot for still being here.
—Definitely.
I drove in silence for a while longer, processing. Two days ago I was a respectable therapist with an orderly life. Now I was a fugitive driving toward Montana with a bleeding werewolf who’d just declared he’d die if I left him.
My life is a damn paranormal soap opera.
—Hey, Elsa —Kael’s voice was weaker now.
—Yes?
—Thank you.
—For what?
—For the metal bar. For defending me. For not running when you had the chance.
—You’re welcome. Although the bar didn’t do much.
—It did enough. It gave me time to… wake up. The Primary Alpha. When I saw you in danger, something just… clicked.
—Good. Because if you die now after all this, I’m going to revive you just to kill you again.
He laughed, then groaned.
—Don’t laugh. Save your energy.
—Yes, doctor.
—And stop calling me doctor.
—What should I call you then?
I considered the question. Therapist was out. Doctor was out. Lover was weird. Girlfriend seemed insufficient for whatever we were.
—Mate —I finally said—. Call me your mate.
The smile that lit up his face—despite the pain, despite the blood—was worth every crazy decision I’d made to get here.
—My mate —he repeated, trying out the words—. I like how that sounds.
—Me too.
And as we drove toward the dawn, toward Montana, toward a completely uncertain future, I realized something:
I didn’t know what awaited us. I didn’t know if we’d survive. I didn’t know if the Council would leave us alone or if this was just the beginning of something much worse.
But for the first time in years—maybe in my life—I was exactly where I wanted to be.
With Kael. My patient. My lover. My Alpha.
My mate.
Together against the world.
Or at least against a pack of extremely annoying werewolves.
Good enough to start.
The End
Epilogue – Much later…
The cabin in Montana turned out to be more “rustic mansion” than “cabin”. Three floors, six bedrooms, and enough land around it for Kael to run in wolf form without worrying about witnesses.
It also had shitty internet, but you can’t have everything.
I’d turned one of the rooms into an office. Officially, I now worked as a remote consultant for trauma cases—ironically, many of my clients were veterans who didn’t even know their therapist was living with a werewolf.
Kael had adapted surprisingly well to civilian life. Well, “adapted” was generous. He still had episodes. He still transformed during the full moon. But now he could do it without fear. Without hiding. Without feeling like a monster.
The Council had left us alone. Mostly. Occasionally we received “diplomatic visits” that basically consisted of older wolves checking that Kael wasn’t planning to overthrow their government or something.
They always left disappointed to find him planting tomatoes.
—Elsa —Kael came into the kitchen, covered in dirt, smiling—. The tomatoes are huge. I think this year it’s actually going to work.
—You said that last year. And the year before.
—This time it’s different.
—You said that too.
He kissed me, leaving a trail of dirt on my cheek.
—You’re impossible.
—I love you anyway.
—Unfortunately.
We stayed there, in the sunlit kitchen, and I thought about everything that had changed. Everything I’d lost and gained.
My therapist license (suspended, not revoked—technically I could still go back). My apartment. My orderly life.
But I’d gained this. Kael. A life that was chaotic and terrifying and completely imperfect.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
—Hey —Kael said suddenly—. I smell something.
—The stew? It’s in the oven.
—No. Something… different. In you.
I tensed.
—Kael, if you’re saying I smell bad—
—Not bad. Just… different. Sweet. Like… oh.
We looked at each other.
—Oh —I repeated.
—Are you…?
—I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t taken the test yet.
—When were you going to tell me?
—I literally just realized two days ago. I wanted to be sure before…
He kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Full of everything he couldn’t say out loud.
—A pup? —he whispered against my lips—. Are we going to have a pup?
—I should probably call it a baby, but yes. Maybe. If the test comes back positive.
—Buy ten tests. A hundred. Buy all the tests.
I laughed, because it was so perfectly him. Extra. Intense. Completely ridiculous.
—One test is going to be enough.
—And if it’s… you know…?
—A werewolf?
—Yes.
—Then we’ll learn together. Like everything else.
He hugged me, careful not to squeeze too hard, and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. Fast. Nervous. Excited.
—I love you —he said—. And I’m going to be a terrible father.
—Probably. But you’ll be a terrible father who tries. And that counts.
—Yeah?
—Yes.
We stayed like that, hugging in the kitchen, with the sun setting outside and the smell of earth and tomatoes and possibilities filling the air.
And I thought: this is healing. Not perfect. Not orderly. But real.
Kael had healed. I had healed. And together—monster and human, wolf and therapist, Alpha and mate—we’d built something neither of us could have built alone.
A life. A home. A family.
Imperfect. Chaotic. Completely ours.
And more than enough.
The End