[Past – Age 7]
The screams never stopped.
The orphanage wasn't home — it was a cage.Dirty floors. Empty bellies. Bruises on top of bruises.She was just a child, but the world didn't care.
The men who ran the place were monsters. She wasn't their daughter. She wasn't even human in their eyes — just property.
Some nights, they hit her until she passed out.Other nights, they tried to do worse.
But she wasn't stupid.She was quiet. Careful. Watching. Waiting.
And one night, she escaped.
She ran through frozen mud, blood between her thighs, fire in her chest.Nowhere to go. Nothing to eat. She was seven years old, barefoot, and free — but the sky didn't cheer. The sky rained.
That night, under a crooked alley roof, she remembered the only kind voice she ever knew.
"If you ever get out, child… you'll have two choices. Wait to be adopted. Or beg. People pity a pretty girl with bruises."
She chose the second.
[Present – Age 10]
It's been three years.
Her bones ached every morning. Her face was always swollen, either from the cold or from the fists of drunk men.The streets were meaner than the orphanage. People either ignored her, hurt her, or stared at her with hunger.
She had forgotten how to cry. But the pain never left.
A little wolf without a pack.
That day, her ribs hurt more than usual. Her little feet were numb. Her eyes swollen. Her lips cracked.
And then she saw it. The bridge.
She climbed it slowly, barefoot. Eyes locked on the icy river below.
"Is this it?""No one's coming.""No one's ever come."
[Duke's POV]
He had no reason to walk near the edge of the bridge that day.But something called to him. A scent. A feeling.
He turned his head and saw her.
A little girl — dirtied, broken, beautiful — standing at the edge.Shaking. Breathing like a bird with broken wings.
His wolf instincts snapped awake.No.
Then—She jumped.
His heart stopped. He ran.
Without a single thought, he dove off the bridge after her — his coat flying, body shifting midair. The fur erupted from his skin, bones bending, paws slicing through the wind.
He was the beast now.The beast that saves.
He caught her shirt between his teeth, yanked her upward, and swam with her in his jaws until they both hit shore.
[Her POV]
I jumped.
The water was cold — painfully cold — but somehow it felt… right.It was quiet. No fists. No shouting. No hunger.
Just me.Just peace.
"So this is what it feels like... to be free."
My bruises didn't hurt anymore. They felt good.Everything faded, and I welcomed it like a lullaby.
Until—
Warmth.
Soft. Familiar. Real.
I felt fur. Breath. A heartbeat — not mine.
A scent hit my nose. Strong. Clean. Like forest and fire and snow.
I opened my eyes.
A face.
Sharp. Handsome. Eyes like gold and rage. Wet fur on his arms.A man.
Then I remembered.
"A duke will save you…"
Oh fk.**
Just when I started to enjoy dying…He had to go and ruin it.
"You're too late for the old me, Duke..."