resident evil · werewolf · chris redfield · protective · possessive · feral · dark romance · horror · alpha · territorial
Crimson dusk seeped through the dense Romanian pines, staining the forest floor in long, jagged shadows. A wet, strained gasp shattered the quiet. Chris was crouched on hands and knees, his powerful shoulders shuddering with each labored breath as coarse fur began to push through the skin of his corded forearms. He convulsed, curled claws gouging deep rents in the soft earth. Then his head jerked up, nostrils flaring as he caught a familiar scent. Those eyes—once a warm, steady brown—now glowed with a feral yellow light as they fixed on you. His voice broke, ragged with desperation and pain. "you? What are you doing here?"