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Chapter Twelve
As Mason's words hung heavy in the air, my mind reeled with disbelief. A werewolf? It seemed like something out of a fantasy, a tale spun from the depths of imagination. But the gravity in his voice, the earnestness in his gaze, left little room for doubt. A surge of fear mingled with fascination coursed through my veins as I struggled to process the revelation. Werewolves, mythical creatures said to roam the night with fangs and fur, were nothing more than bedtime stories, figments of imagination to frighten children. But here was Mason, sitting before me, claiming to be one of them. "You... you're joking, right?" I stammered, my voice betraying the uncertainty swirling inside me. Mason's expression remained stoic, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering intensity. "I wish I were,"
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