As the date of the full moon approached, the air in the city seemed to thicken. Silas became increasingly restless. He spent hours staring out the window of the penthouse, his muscles twitching, his breathing heavy. The bond between us had grown, and I could feel his agitation mirroring my own.
"It's getting stronger," I said one night, lying in bed beside him.
"The pull," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "It's like a fever. I can feel the wolf scratching at the inside of my skull, demanding to be let out. He wants to run. He wants to hunt. And he wants you."
"I'm not afraid," I said, sliding my hand down his chest to the hard ridge of his stomach.
Silas caught my hand, his grip firm. "You should be. This moon is different. It's a Supermoon. The power is... amplified. I'm worried I won
