Beneath The Moonlight

Because of the intense training Maxwell had undergone, his body was fragile, and his wounds reopened, leaving him teetering on the edge of death. Blood seeped through his bandages as he leaned against Mister Adam, his breaths shallow and ragged.

"Maxwell, we need to get you to the hospital. Now!" Mister Adam said, panic thick in his voice as he tried to support Maxwell's failing weight.

"No hospitals," Maxwell groaned, his tone firm despite his weakness. "I don't want anyone knowing I'm alive. No one can know I've regained my ability to walk."

Mister Adam's voice rose in desperation. "You won't survive like this! You're losing too much blood!"

Maxwell gritted his teeth, his resolve unwavering. "Take me to Zoelle's. She's the only one I trust."

Adam hesitated, torn between his instincts to act and Maxwell's plea. Before he could argue further, Maxwell's body convulsed violently, and he fell to his knees, trembling.

"I can't… hold this form any longer," he rasped, his voice thick with pain. His body began to contort as bones snapped and reshaped. Mister Adam stepped back, horrified, as Maxwell transformed into his wolf form—a white wolf with piercing blue eyes.

The wolf stood unsteadily, his pristine fur stained with blood, and let out a low, pained growl. Adam stared, both awed and disturbed by the sight.

"Maxwell," he whispered, his voice cracking. "What have you done to yourself?"

The wolf growled softly in response, and Adam, swallowing his fear, guided him toward Zoelle's house under the cover of night.

---

When Zoelle opened the door, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Standing on her porch was a massive white wolf with striking blue eyes. Its fur was matted with blood, and it swayed unsteadily on its paws.

"Snow?" she whispered, her voice trembling with both awe and concern. She knelt cautiously, her hand hovering near the wolf's fur. "What happened to you?"

The wolf let out a faint whimper, its blue eyes meeting hers with a pleading gaze.

"Oh, you poor thing," Zoelle murmured, gently brushing her fingers against the wolf's fur. "Come inside. Let me help you."

She guided the wolf into her home, quickly grabbing towels and water to clean his wounds.

"Hold still, Snow," she said softly as she pressed a cloth against one of the deeper injuries. "Who did this to you?"

The wolf growled faintly, wincing under her touch, but allowed her to work. Zoelle's heart ached for the creature, its vulnerability stirring a fierce protectiveness within her.

As she worked, she spoke softly, her words filling the quiet room. "I don't know where you came from, but you're not just any wolf, are you? You feel… different." She hesitated, her fingers brushing lightly over his fur. "I hope whoever hurt you doesn't find you again. You deserve better, Snow."

Maxwell's ears flicked slightly, but he remained still, his blue eyes watching her intently. Her kindness was a balm to his pain, but it also pierced him with guilt. If only she knew the truth.

Suddenly, Zoelle froze, her instincts warning her of something outside. She glanced toward the window, her chest tightening.

"We can't stay here," she whispered, grabbing her coat. She turned to the wolf. "Come on. We need to go."

Maxwell tilted his head, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion, but when she opened the back door and motioned for him to follow, he obeyed.

Zoelle led him into the forest, her movements swift and deliberate despite the darkness. Maxwell, though weak, kept pace with her, his instincts urging him to trust her he took the lead and now zoelle was following him. They reached Mister Adam's secluded cabin, where Zoelle helped Maxwell inside although she didn't understand why he brought her to this cabin, but she thought to herself maybe it's where Snow lives , she continued treating his wounds.

"Snow," she murmured as she worked. "I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but you're safe now."

Maxwell's blue eyes remained fixed on her, a mixture of gratitude and guilt flickering within them. When she finished, she hurried back to leave for her house, only to collide with Mister Adam at the door.

"They're looking for him!" she gasped. "You have to hide him."

Adam nodded, rushing back to take Maxwell to an isolated location that only he and the late Mister Jones knew about.

Zoelle slipped into her house through the back door, her heart pounding.

---

That night, Zoelle woke abruptly to the sound of snarls and growls outside her home. Her heart raced as she realized the wolves had found her. She crept to the window and peeked outside, seeing shadows circling her house. Scratches raked across her door, followed by a low, menacing growl.

Moments later, the door burst open, and shadows with glowing eyes spilled into the room.

Zoelle grabbed a kitchen knife and slashed at the nearest wolf, her breaths coming in panicked gasps. Despite her efforts, she was quickly overwhelmed. One wolf lunged, knocking her to the ground, its teeth snapping inches from her face.

"This is it," she thought, tears streaming down her face. "I'm going to die."

A deafening roar shattered the chaos. The wolves froze, their ears flattening in submission. Zoelle turned her head weakly to see a massive black wolf with golden eyes charging into the fray. It tore through the attackers with brutal efficiency, scattering them into the night.

Before she passed out, Zoelle saw a figure rushing toward her.

"Zoelle!"

It was Ryland.

---

When Zoelle woke, she was in a hospital bed. Her body burned with pain, and every scratch felt like fire against her skin.

The door swung open, and Ryland strode in, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Zoelle flinched instinctively, her pulse quickening. "You again!" she cried, her voice trembling. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"

Ryland froze, his golden eyes widening in surprise. Her fear hit him like a physical blow, leaving him uncharacteristically off balance.

"I…" He hesitated, his voice unusually soft. "I'm not following you."

"Then why are you here?" she demanded, her voice rising with panic.

"I saved you," he said simply, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You were being attacked. I couldn't just leave you."

Zoelle stared at him, her breathing shallow. The intensity in his golden eyes unnerved her, but there was also something else—something almost… gentle.

The doctor rushed in, placing a hand on Zoelle's shoulder. "Miss Zoelle, please calm down. This man brought you here. He saved your life."

Zoelle's expression softened, guilt washing over her. "I… I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Ryland stepped back, his fists clenching. He hated the way she looked at him—with fear and distrust. But he couldn't blame her.

As exhaustion overtook Zoelle, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she murmured faintly, "Thank you…"

Ryland remained by the door, his emotions in turmoil. He didn't understand why she had such an effect on him. She was human—fragile and wholly unlike him. And yet…

"She looked so pure," he muttered under his breath, his golden eyes darkening. "How can hell touch heaven?"

---

In the Hallway

Outside her room, Ryland leaned against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. His heart was racing—a foreign and unwelcome sensation.

Jolie appeared, her green eyes gleaming with malice.

"You're losing focus," she hissed, crossing her arms. "I warned you about getting too close to her."

"Stay out of it, Jolie," Ryland growled, his tone sharp.

Jolie smirked, tilting her head mockingly. "She's already under your skin. Admit it."

Ryland's jaw clenched as he turned away, refusing to answer. But in the quiet hallway, he couldn't escape the truth.

Zoelle wasn't just under his skin. She was in his thoughts, his dreams, and, most dangerously, his heart