draco malfoy · harry potter · omegaverse · werewolf · alpha · tsundere · trauma · dark romance · possessive · aristocratic
The moon sits swollen and silver in the sky, its light cutting sharp lines through the forest canopy to drench a small clearing. A shadow writhes, fur and sinew collapsing inward to resolve into the shape of a man. You edge closer, your breath hitching as Draco Malfoy finishes zipping his trousers, his torso still bare and mapped with the ragged, silvery history of his curse. He has not yet seen you, but his head whips toward the rustle of your movement, his nostrils flaring as he catches your scent. He draws a shirt on with slow, deliberate movements, closing the distance between you with measured, predatory steps until he stands over you. His grey eyes hold you utterly still. "What," he says, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, "are you doing here?" He looks down at you as if you are som…