werewolf love with me

The wind shrieked through the trees, carrying with it a whisper—low, guttural, and in a language Selene didn't understand. The moment Raven spoke of the **Hungry Ones**, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The air grew thick, pressing against Selene's skin like unseen hands.

Damien tensed beside her, his golden eyes scanning the darkened cabin. "Raven," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "What are the Hungry Ones?"

The witch's lips curled into something between a smile and a grimace. "Creatures born of the first Blood Moon. Older than werewolves. Older than this war. They have been asleep for centuries."

Selene's grip tightened around the hilt of her dagger. "Then why wake up now?"

Raven dipped her fingers into the dark liquid again, tracing another rune onto the wooden table. This time, it glowed faintly. "Because the prophecy is breaking. And when it does… the old ones will feed."

The whispering outside grew louder.

Damien cursed under his breath. "We need to leave. Now."

Selene nodded. Whatever had killed those Silverfangs was still out there, and she wasn't eager to find out if it was watching them now.

But as she turned toward the door, Raven's hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength.

"**You must make a choice soon, Selene Nightshade. Hate, or survival.**"

Selene yanked her hand free, glaring at the witch. "I don't take orders from witches."

Raven only smiled. "Not yet."

Before Selene could respond, a **scream** tore through the night.

Not a wolf's howl. Not the cry of a dying warrior.

Something **inhuman.**

Selene and Damien bolted for the door, their instincts screaming at them to run. The moment they stepped outside, the scent of blood thickened in the air.

More bodies.

This time, they weren't Silverfangs.

They were **Nightshades.**

Selene's breath hitched as she stared at the corpses scattered across the snow. Throats torn out. Claws raked through flesh. But their faces—twisted in horror, mouths still open in silent screams—made her stomach turn.

This wasn't war.

This was a **massacre.**

Damien's face darkened. "This isn't right. Nothing moves this fast."

Selene knelt beside one of the bodies, her hands hovering over the deep gashes on his chest. They weren't made by normal claws. The wounds were deeper, the edges **burned**, as if something **not of this world** had torn through them.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Then the whispering returned. Closer this time.

Selene's wolf surged to the surface, her instincts roaring.

**They weren't alone.**

Damien grabbed her arm. "We need to go—"

Then the shadows moved.

Something lunged from the treetops—a blur of **black, twisted limbs and glowing silver eyes.** It slammed into Damien, sending him crashing into the snow.

Selene barely had time to react before another **thing**—a creature unlike anything she had ever seen—dropped in front of her.

It wasn't a werewolf.

It was taller, thinner, with limbs too long and claws too sharp. Its mouth stretched unnaturally wide, filled with rows of jagged teeth.

Selene's heart pounded.

The **Hungry Ones** were real.

And they had come to feed.

---

# **

The creature lunged.

Selene barely had time to roll aside before its claws tore through the space where she had stood. Snow exploded around her as she hit the ground and sprang to her feet, dagger drawn.

The **Hungry One** moved with unnatural speed. Its silver eyes locked onto her, its mouth stretching wider as a deep, rattling growl escaped its throat.

Selene's wolf raged beneath her skin, demanding to shift, but instinct told her that shifting wouldn't be enough.

This thing was faster. Stronger.

Damien grunted as he struggled against another creature, his claws slashing wildly. "Selene, move!"

She didn't need to be told twice. As the creature lunged again, she ducked, sliding beneath its outstretched claws. Her dagger flashed, slicing deep into its side.

The thing barely reacted.

Selene's stomach dropped.

A normal werewolf would have collapsed from a wound that deep. But the Hungry One simply turned its head toward her, as if **amused.**

Then it moved.

Before she could blink, it was behind her. Claws raked down her back, tearing through leather and grazing skin. Selene hissed in pain but forced herself to keep moving.

Damien managed to break free of the creature attacking him, shifting mid-air as he landed on all fours. His dark wolf form bristled with fury. He lunged, slamming into the Hungry One that had attacked her, sending them both rolling through the snow.

Selene turned to face her own monster, her dagger dripping with black ichor.

Then she heard it—**a whisper.**

Not from the creature.

From **inside her own head.**

*"Blood for blood. Feed the moon. Feed the hunt."*

Selene gasped, staggering back. The voice was ancient, cold, and **hungry.**

The creature tilted its head as if it could hear it, too.

Then its silver eyes darkened.

Selene gritted her teeth and gripped her dagger tighter. She didn't know what the voice was or why it was inside her head. But right now, she had only one goal—**survive.**

The creature lunged again. This time, Selene was ready.

She twisted, dodging its claws, then **drove her dagger straight into its throat.**