The curse of the wolf

Captured by dark magic

*Anaïs*

Hesitantly, I place my hand in his, and the instant our skin makes contact, a shiver runs down my spine. The man’s grip is firm but gentle, and he expertly guides me into the waltz.

As we begin to dance, I feel a sudden sense of enchantment overtaking the atmosphere. The chandeliers above us shimmer and twinkle like stars in the night sky, casting ethereal shadows on the masked faces around us. The air feels charged with an unexplainable energy, and the music seems to wrap itself around us like a spell.

Our movements are fluid, synchronized, as if we have been dancing together for a lifetime. His touch is electric, sending shivers up my arm with each gentle brush of his fingers. The man’s eyes, the only part of his face not hidden behind the mask, seem to hold a secret, their intensity drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I can’t shake the feeling that something is off, but I can’t bring myself to break away from his hypnotic gaze.

As we continue to waltz, the other dancers around us blur into a sea of colors and shapes, their laughter and conversations fading into the background. It feels as though time has slowed, and we are the only two people in the room. I can’t help but wonder if this is all a dream, a figment of my imagination fueled by my curiosity and desire to know who this mysterious man is.

Or maybe it is in reality a nightmare, I have this haunting feeling that this might not lead to good things.

“Who are you?” I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. The man doesn’t answer, but his enigmatic smile widens ever so slightly, as if he is enjoying the game of secrecy.

The music crescendos, and our dance becomes more intense, our steps faster and more intricate. My heart races in my chest, and I can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. As the final notes of the waltz echo through the room, the man releases me from his hold, and for the briefest moment, our eyes lock, and I feel a sense of recognition.

I realize that the mysterious man has been guiding me across the dance floor as we danced, and I now find myself being gently pressed against the wall in a secluded, dimly lit corner.

The shadows here seem to deepen the mystery, further obscuring his features and making the entire situation feel even more surreal.

He leans in closer, his fingers trailing up my arm, sending a new wave of shivers down my spine. His voice, smooth and seductive, whispers in my ear, “You are absolutely stunning tonight. This dress leaves just enough to the imagination, and your scent... it’s utterly intoxicating.”

I feel a sudden chill, a sense of unease creeping in as I realize that his voice, while similar to Griff’s, is different. It’s not just the pitch or the timbre, but something more unsettling; the tone. The warmth and playfulness I associate with Griff is replaced by a darker, more alluring quality, and it leaves me both intrigued and unnerved.

Instinctively, I try to take a step back, but the man’s grip on me tightens ever so slightly, his presence now feeling more imposing, more confining. The earlier enchantment of the dance is giving way to fear, and I can’t help but question who this man really is and what he wants from me.

My voice trembles as I ask again, “Who are you?”

He doesn’t answer directly, but his chilling smile grows wider, revealing a hint of danger that sends a shudder down my spine. It’s clear now that this man is not Griff, but someone else entirely, someone who has managed to captivate and frighten me in equal measure.

As the mysterious man continues to hold me against the wall, I can feel his breath on my skin, warm and unsettling. He inches closer, his intent clear as his eyes flicker down to my lips. My heart races, caught between fear and fascination, as I realize he is about to kiss me.

As he leans in, our faces just a hair’s breadth apart, I find myself frozen, unable to move or speak. The world around us seems to come to a standstill, the music fading away and the laughter and chatter of the masquerade ball a distant memory. All that exists in this moment is the anticipation of his lips on mine, the strange mixture of dread and desire that has me held captive.

His lips are just about to make contact with mine. It is like the world is suspended between reality and fantasy, leaving me breathless and disoriented. The weight of the impending kiss looms heavy in the air.

*Griff*

From my vantage point on the balcony, I survey the room below, taking in the swirling colors and sounds of the masquerade ball. Jean and Edward stand beside me, their eyes also scanning the crowd. We are enjoying the festivities from a safe distance, keeping an eye on those we care about. While I consider when and how to approach Anaïs.

Suddenly, my gaze locks onto her, realizing that she seems ensnared by the mysterious man who has approached her. The sight of them together sends a surge of possessiveness and anger coursing through my veins. It takes only a split second for me to recognize the man as Llewelyn, so this is where my treacherous brother is. I should have known he would show up where I want him the least, unable to resist the opportunity to cause chaos.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I leap into action, my instincts driving me forward. Ignoring Jean’s and Edward’s questioning looks.

I sprint toward the stairs leading down to the ballroom. Although I long to use my supernatural speed, I can’t risk revealing my true nature in front of the unsuspecting humans. The panic it would no doubt cause would not only endanger my existence, but also the safety of Anaïs and everyone else in the room.

Frustration simmers within me as I force myself to maintain a human pace, even as every instinct screams at me to move faster. My wolf spirit is roaring in my head.

When I finally reach the ballroom, it feels as if the dancers are deliberately blocking my path. They swirl around me, a sea of masks and glittering gowns, making it impossible to catch a glimpse of Anaïs. Panic rises within me, and I struggle to keep myself under control, knowing that any sudden outburst could inadvertently harm the surrounding people.

“Anaïs!” I call out, my voice barely audible above the music as I desperately try to locate her. Jean and Edward follow close behind, their faces etched with concern as they too search for any sign of her among the crowd.

Fighting the urge to shove people aside, I weave through the throng of dancers. My heart pounds in my chest, and my senses sharpen as I push myself to the limit, trying to reach Anaïs before Llewelyn can do any harm.

As I finally spot her, my breath catches. Llewelyn is leaning in for a kiss, his intentions clear. The sight ignites a primal fury within me, and I know I must intervene. With a last burst of effort, I cut through the last of the dancers separating us, reaching Anaïs just as Llewelyn’s lips are about to meet hers.

I grab his shoulder, pulling him away from her with a strength that betrays my desperation.

Llewelyn’s eyes narrow as he recognizes me, annoyance and surprise flashing across his face, but only for a second. Then I throw him through the open door behind us, hearing him slide about halfway down the hallway.

As Anaïs looks at me, confusion and relief apparent on her face, I can only hope that I have managed to save her from whatever dark game my brother had in mind.

“Are you okay, Anaïs? Did he harm you?”