I couldn’t breathe.

The glowing eyes burned through the darkness, locking onto me like a predator watching its prey.

A deep, guttural sound rumbled from the figure—low, primal, vibrating in my bones. My body refused to move, as if some ancient instinct told me that any sudden motion would only provoke the creature before me.

Then it stepped closer.

The dim candlelight flickered, barely illuminating the figure. My breath hitched as I finally saw him.

My husband!

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

His suit was in disarray, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. But it wasn’t just his presence that sent a fresh wave of terror through me—it was the way his body was changing.

His muscles tensed, veins pushing against his skin. His hands—those same hands that had gently held mine at the altar—twitched and flexed, fingers elongating into something inhuman.

Sharp claws glinted under the candlelight, replacing his nails. His face contorted, his jaw stretching unnaturally as his teeth sharpened into fangs.

A strangled whimper escaped me.

He’s shifting!

I knew he was a werewolf. I had heard the stories. But nothing could have prepared me for this—watching a man turn into something else, something beastly right before my eyes.

His clothes shredded as his body expanded, bones cracking and reforming in sickening pops. His head tilted back, a strangled growl escaping his lips as his human voice faded, replaced by something wild.

I took a step back. Then another. But the moment my foot scuffed against the wooden floor—

His head snapped toward me.

The golden glow of his eyes intensified, locking onto me with an intensity that made my stomach churn. His breathing was heavy, his nostrils flaring as if scenting the air between us.

Then, faster than I could process, he lunged.

I barely had time to react before I was pinned against the bed, the sheer weight of him knocking the air from my lungs. His massive paws caged me in, sharp claws digging into the sheets on either side of my head.

A strangled cry caught in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain, for the teeth I had always feared to sink into my flesh.

But instead—

Warm breath fanned against my cheek.

Slow. Measured.

I cracked one eye open and met his gaze.

His wolf was enormous, his fur a dark shade of black that seemed to blend into the shadows. His ears twitched, and for a moment, I thought I saw something—something human—lingering in those glowing eyes.

Was he fighting it?

My chest rose and fell rapidly as he leaned closer, his nose grazing my neck. My pulse pounded violently against my skin, my entire body stiff as I waited—helpless and unsure of what he was going to do.

Then—

He growled.

Deep. Possessive. As if he had just made a decision.

His claws retracted slightly, his massive form shifting just enough to let me move. But I didn’t dare. I barely even breathed.

Then he pulled back, his eyes locked onto mine.

And just as I thought I could finally speak, finally move—

He lunged for the door.

The wind rushed past me as he vanished into the hallway, the heavy thud of his paws echoing through the mansion. I scrambled to my feet, my heart still racing.

What just happened?

Where was he going?

And more importantly…

What was he going to do?

I hesitated for only a moment before I ran after him—straight into the darkness that had swallowed my husband whole.

Silence.

That was all that was left after he disappeared into the darkness.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, my breath shaky, my hands trembling as I clutched the fabric of my gown. The candlelight flickered against the walls, casting eerie shadows that did little to ease the pounding in my chest.

He was gone.

Where had he gone? Would he come back?

And when he did… would he still be himself?

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to sit on the edge of the bed. The sheets felt cold, untouched, and for some reason, the thought of being alone in this massive room made my skin prickle with unease.

I had imagined my wedding night countless times as a child—romantic, tender, full of whispered promises and sweet laughter. This… this was nothing like that.

Instead of soft candlelight and warm kisses, I had been left in a dark, unfamiliar mansion, abandoned while my husband transformed into a creature I could barely comprehend.

My fingers curled into my lap. How long would he be gone?

Minutes passed.

Then hours.

I didn’t move from the bed, too afraid to wander, too anxious to sleep. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows, but inside, the mansion remained unnervingly still.

I pulled the blanket over my shoulders, trying to get my body to relax.

Then—

The door creaked open.

I shot up, my pulse spiking.

A towering figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim hallway lights. His frame was imposing, his broad shoulders tense as he stepped inside.

But something was different.

His suit was gone. His skin gleamed under the soft glow of the candles, bare except for the loose pants hanging low on his hips. He smelled of the night—of the forest, of the rain, of something raw and untamed.

His golden eyes found mine, darkened with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You waited for me,” he said, his voice deep, husky.

I swallowed, nodding. “You left.”

“I had to.”

His gaze lingered on me, as if searching for something. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his presence consuming the air between us.

I could barely breathe.

I should have looked away. I should have asked him where he had gone, what he had done—who he had been while he was out there.

But all I could focus on was him. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell steadily as he closed the distance between us.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, stopping just inches away.

I lifted my chin, determined not to let my voice shake. “Should I be?”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Maybe.”

His fingers reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine.

“You look untouched,” he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper against my skin.

I tensed. “I—”

“You are untouched, aren’t you, wifey?” His fingers trailed down my arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I can smell it on you. Purity.”

My breath hitched.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I meant to claim you tonight.”

Claim.

The word sent a rush of panic—and something else—coursing through me.

“But,” he continued, his voice dark, teasing, hungry, “you looked so innocent waiting for me. So sweet.”

His fingers grazed my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies nearly touched. His heat seeped into me, intoxicating, suffocating.

He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look into his golden eyes. “Tell me, wifey… were you waiting for me because you wanted me to come back?”

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

His smirk deepened. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “Because when I do claim you, I want you fully awake for it.”

He pulled back, leaving me breathless, confused, and unbearably warm.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the bathroom, disappearing behind the heavy wooden door.

I exhaled sharply, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I had waited for my husband to return.

But I wasn’t sure I was ready for what would come next.

Then, the sound of running water stopped.

I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears as I sat motionless on the bed. And then, the bathroom door creaked open.

He stepped out, steam curling around his frame like a possessive mist, reluctant to let him go. My breath caught.

Dressed in nothing but a loosely tied towel around his waist, he looked like something out of a sinful dream. Droplets of water clung to his toned chest, tracing slow, lazy paths down the ridges of his abs.

His shoulders were broad, powerful, his arms cut with sharp definition. His damp, dark hair was slightly tousled, giving him a dangerous, almost reckless appeal.

I should have looked away.

I tried to look away.

But my eyes betrayed me, trailing over every sculpted inch of him.

His golden gaze caught mine, sharp, knowing.

"Enjoying the view, wife?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I quickly turned my head, pretending to find the candlelit walls fascinating.

"I—I wasn't looking."

His low chuckle sent a shiver racing down my spine.

"Liar."

The bed dipped under his weight as he settled on the other side. My body went rigid. I could feel him—his presence, his warmth, his scent. Fresh soap mixed with something wild, something purely him.

"You can look," he murmured, voice thick with amusement. "I don’t mind."

I scowled, keeping my gaze locked on the flickering candlelight. But my body had other plans. Every nerve was hyper aware of the fact that he was barely clothed, that only a thin towel stood between me and—

Stop thinking about it.

"You’re quiet," he noted.

I swallowed.

"I’m just… tired."

He hummed, as if considering my words, but I didn’t dare turn my head to gauge his expression.

The room fell into a heavy silence. But it wasn’t a comfortable one.

It was thick with anticipation, with something dark and unnamed curling in the air between us.

Then—

The bed shifted.

I stiffened as he leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath against my bare shoulder.

"Are you afraid of me, wifey?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over my skin, just shy of touching.

I should have said yes. I wanted to say yes.

But my body—traitorous, foolish—refused to move away.

"You're not answering," he observed, his voice dangerously low.

I forced myself to inhale, to gather my scattered thoughts. "I'm not afraid," I lied.

His fingers brushed against my hand, slow, deliberate. "Good."

I exhaled sharply. "You should get dressed."

He smirked against my skin. "Should I?"

"Yes."

He pulled back slightly, and I dared to glance at him. His gaze was smoldering, locked onto me like a predator savoring the chase.

Then, as if to test my resolve, he reached for the towel at his waist, his fingers toying with the knot.

My heart stopped.

I shot up from the bed, nearly tripping over my own feet.

"I—I need to sleep!"

His laughter followed me as I scrambled to the other side of the room, my entire body burning with embarrassment.

“But you owe me a wedding night,” he stated, and I was too stunned to speak.