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Roman was charming, sure, but that was his thing. He turned it on for everyone, became what each person needed him to be. He’d just admitted as much. I wasn’t special, no matter how he made me feel.

I pulled back a little and glanced down at the courtyard below, where Doris was scanning the building like she was filming a wildlife documentary.

“She’s trying to catch someone breeding werewolves on the third floor,” Roman whispered.

I laughed, loud and unfiltered. He grinned, and it lit up his eyes. My favorite.

Then he said it. Softly. Like it slipped out before he could stop it. “God, I love you.”

I stared at him, jaw dropping open.

He coughed. “I mean… the moon. I really love the moon. On nights like this.”

We both nodded, pretending that hadn’t happened. That he hadn’t just said what he said. But my heart was thudding against my ribs like it wanted out.

Below us, Doris’s binoculars snapped straight up.

“Shit,” I hissed.

We ducked like teenagers caught making out. Giggling, we crept back inside and bolted down the stairwell. By the time we crashed through our apartment door, I was breathless—not from running but from feeling.

We stood in the dim hallway between our rooms. The air shifted, becoming thicker, seemingly moving slower.

He was close. Too close. My back brushed the wall.

He looked at my mouth. I looked at his. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and cleared my throat.

“Night, wolfboy.”

He stepped back. “Night, Mags.”

We went into our respective bedrooms. Neither of us closed our doors all the way.

I dreamed I was standing in a field that didn’t belong to any real place. It was like it had slipped between worlds and gotten stuck there. A thick fog curled around my ankles and laced between my fingers, clinging to my skin like regret.

Everything shimmered under a soft silver light, even though there was no moon in the sky. The grass was cold and wet beneath my bare feet. Each step I took made a squishing sound, until I suddenly couldn’t move. My body was a statue carved out of confusion and quiet fear.

Shapes moved in the mist. I didn’t hear them approach. One moment I was alone, the next I was surrounded.

They weren’t men. They weren’t wolves. These creatures were something in-between. Hulking shoulders and animal eyes, fur that shifted in and out of form, too-long limbs, and teeth that glinted even when they weren’t smiling.

They circled me like I was prey. A curiosity. A threat. A mistake.

“She smells wrong.”

“Human.”

“Weak.”

Each syllable sliced through my skin like a scalpel. My breath caught. I didn’t look at them. I knew if I met their eyes, I’d see what they saw. I’d see everything I wasn’t.

I had no magic. I had no ability to shift. I was just flesh and flaws.

They saw me. Not the version I’d curated with eyeliner and sarcasm. Not the polished mask I kept on for other people’s comfort. Just… me.

Raw. Too soft. Too small.

And then, like he’d been summoned by the worst parts of me, Roman strode out of the fog.