Amara.
I opened my door cautiously, exited, then shut it behind me with painstaking care. It did not creak. The wooden floor did not groan when I tiptoed. Still, I paused, held my breath, and listened to everything—anything that could potentially expose me.
There was nothing. The house was dead silent.
I moved down the corridor, light on my feet, every step deliberate. It was late—far later than I should have been awake—and yet neither Seraphina nor Grandmother was awakened by my little breakout. Their doors remained closed, and their lights. Relief settled deep inside my stomach.
When I finally slipped outside, the cold greeted me instantly. Snow crunched softly under my slippers as I made my way to the corner of the house.
There, he was waiting.
Right beneath my window, exactly where I had last seen him.
Up close, the wolf was even more breathtaking.
Under the flickering yard light, his white fur glimmered with an otherworldly glow. His size alone should have terrified me, after all, he was massive, intimidating, undeniably wild.
And yet, all I could think was that I had never seen a wolf so beautiful.
In that moment, it did not occur to me that he was a werewolf—that he could shift out of that beautiful form and stand before me as a man. All my reason evaporated, leaving behind only admiration.
Unhurriedly, and with majesty, the wolf made its way toward me. Then, mere inches away it stopped. It was close—close enough that I felt the warmth of its breath against my skin.
I flinched and took a step back.
Do I frighten you?
The voice echoed gently inside my mind.
He was enormous—three times my size, maybe more. And yet, when I searched myself for fear, I found none.
"No," I admitted quietly, meeting his gaze. "I'm not scared. Just… startled."
The wind surged suddenly, harsh and extremely cold. It tore my shawl from my shoulders before I could react, sending it flying. I reached forward to grab it, but I was a second too late.
The fabric landed squarely over the wolf's face.
I froze.
The wind refused to back down, it blew again. This time, I stumbled as it whipped my silk nightgown against my legs. Immediately, I clutched the thin material to my chest, shivering violently.
Amid my own trouble, I brushed aside the hair dancing in my face and looked up, only to behold an unexpected sight.
The wolf shook his head clumsily, trying to rid himself of the shawl. However, the fabric slid lower, tangling awkwardly around his ears and blinding him completely. His attempts only made matters worse.
A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it.
Then I stepped closer, rise onto my toes, and gently tugged the shawl free. He shook himself once more, his fur settling as he looked down at me.
Thank you.
I smiled without thinking and draped the shawl back around my shoulders, although it did little to shield me from the cold. My hands continued to trembled. And my knees threatened to give way any moment then.
You are cold, he observed. Come closer.
"Closer?" I echoed, puzzled. There was barely any space left between us.
I will share my warmth.
The offer was tempting—far too tempting.
Before I could overthink it, I stepped forward.
Then I lost my mind entirely.
I pressed myself against his chest. Warmth engulfed me instantly, seeping deep beneath my skin. I buried my fingers into his thick, impossibly soft fur, a breath leaving my lips as my body melted against him.
The feeling was nothing short of heavenly.
I had never touched a cloud, but I imagined it would feel like this—soft, yielding, endless.
Without realizing what I was doing, I rested my head against him and inhaled deeply. His scent wrapped around me—clean snow, pine, and something achingly familiar.
His body stiffened beneath my touch.
Yet he did not pull away…He endured with steady patience.
Deep inside me, my wolf settled.
The clawing unrest that had plagued me since training eased, fading into something much calmer and gentler. And that sudden peace made my chest clench.
Do you feel warmer?
"Yes," I murmured. Warm was an understatement.
Will you walk with me?
I hesitated. The day had been… unbearable. Painful. If I returned to bed now, my thoughts would devour me whole.
Before I could allow doubt to settle in, his voice cut through my thoughts.
Do not think too much of it.
I obeyed. And as soon as I did, reality struck.
The wolf I was clinging to, was not just a wolf.
He was a werewolf. A person. A man.
I pulled away abruptly, cold crashing over me the moment I stepped back. I adjusted my shawl and nightgown, painfully aware of how little they concealed if my body. My cheeks burned as his gaze lowered.
"Who are you?" I asked, voice trembling.
Come closer.
"No," I said, firmer this time. "Answer me. Who are you?"
You are cold. Come.
I was freezing—my feet was numb, my teeth were chattering—but I could not blindly trust him. Not here. Not in this place where so many people harbored resentment toward me.
When I did not move, he stepped forward instead.
"Stay back," I whispered, retreating.
Calm yourself.
This time, the voice did not come from him.
It came from within me.
It was my wolf.
Her tone was… gentle.
He is safe. We can trust him.
Normally, I would have ignored her. Pushed her away. But she was never this calm. Never this certain.
So I stopped resisting.
I chose to see the wolf standing before me—not the man or the threat he could be.
He approached, and once again I sought warmth where I had found it before—in his fluffy chest.
"Who are you?" I asked softly.
A friend.
"Whose?"
Your grandmother's, he replied. And yours, if you will allow it.
If Grandmother trusted him, then so could I.
With such a thought, my fear dissolved in an instant.
"I won't ask further," I said quietly, relaxing against him.
Without another word, he lowered himself.
"You want me to get on?" I asked.
Yes. I'm taking you for a run.
I climbed onto his back, gripping his fur tightly. Without saying another word, we took off.
At first, he moved slowly, careful, checking on me again and again before increasing his pace. The wind rushed past my face, cold and refreshing. The forest stretched endlessly around us, moonlight glinting off snow-covered branches.
I giggled.
The sound startled me—it had been so long since I'd felt this free.
We stopped atop a hill. The sight I beheld nearly stole my breath.
Everlone stretched out below, covered in snow and glowing with soft lights. And above us, the sky erupted in color—greens and blues dancing across the darkness in a breathtaking aurora.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
It is, he agreed. But this only appears when winter is at its harshest.
Beauty exists everywhere —in everything, he continued. If you're willing to look.
My grip tightened around his fur. When I looked down at him, his white fur reflected the beautiful colors of the aurora.
Maybe… maybe if my wolf had been this beautiful, acceptance wouldn't have been so hard.
Amara.
"Yes?"
Will you give yourself a chance?
Will you try to see the beauty in your wolf—before you entirely reject her?
So that was where the conversation was headed. I suppose grandmother asked him to come and counsel me. But knowing how rejecting his suggestion would drag the topic much longer than I would be comfortable with, I decided to agree and end it.
And so, hesitantly, I nodded. "I'll try."
Good.
He glanced back at me.
Then I'll give you two weeks.
"Two weeks for what?"
To find the beauty in your wolf. His voice sounded softer.
And if you can't…
He paused.
Then I will be here to help you discover it.