Into the Wolf's Den: Little Red's Tale of Romance

Prologue

Once upon a time, in a city where shadows stretched long under the pale glow of streetlights, there lived a girl named Scarlet. She was neither a child nor fully grown, but somewhere in between—a place where innocence and experience warred for control of her heart. Scarlet’s world was small, confined to the care of her ailing grandmother, whose illness had stripped away her vitality and left her fragile, like a delicate flower wilting in the harshness of winter.

Every day, Scarlet would walk the familiar path to her grandmother’s house, a tiny apartment nestled in the older part of the city. It was a journey she knew by heart, yet one that always filled her with a sense of dread. The streets she walked were lined with crumbling buildings and the memories of better days long past. The city had once been vibrant, alive with the sounds of laughter and the hum of life, but now it was a place of whispered fears and unspoken dangers.

Scarlet was a dutiful granddaughter, her life revolving around the care of the woman who had raised her. She cooked, cleaned, and sat by her grandmother’s side, listening to stories from a time when the old woman had been strong and full of life. But as the days passed, the burden grew heavier. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, stifling the dreams she had once held close. Her friends had drifted away, drawn to the excitement of the world outside, while Scarlet remained tethered to her duties, her heart longing for something more.

It was on one such evening, as the sun dipped low and the city was bathed in the soft, dying light of dusk, that Scarlet set out on her journey once more. She walked with a steady pace, her mind filled with thoughts of her grandmother, whose health seemed to worsen with each passing day. The air was cool, the kind that carried a hint of autumn’s bite, and Scarlet pulled her red hood tighter around her shoulders, as if it could shield her from the cold—and from the creeping sense of unease that had begun to settle in her chest.

The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional murmur of voices from behind closed doors. Scarlet had always found comfort in the routine of her walks, but tonight felt different. There was a tension in the air, something intangible yet undeniable. She quickened her pace, her footsteps echoing off the walls of the narrow alleyways she took to avoid the busier streets. It was a path she had walked many times before, but tonight, it felt unfamiliar.

*And that’s when she saw him.*

He was leaning against the brick wall at the mouth of an alley, shrouded in shadow. At first, Scarlet thought he was just another stranger, someone passing through the city like so many others. But as she drew closer, she felt his eyes on her—intense, unyielding, as if they could see into the depths of her soul. His gaze was predatory, and yet, there was something mesmerizing about him. He was tall, his features sharp and refined, with a darkness that seemed to radiate from him, drawing her in even as every instinct told her to run.

This was the Wolf, though he wore no fur and had no claws. His name was unknown, and he was a man who knew the power he held over those who crossed his path. He was dangerous, yes, but also alluring—a mix of temptation and threat that made Scarlet’s heart race in her chest. She could feel the pull of him, like a moth drawn to a flame, knowing that the closer she got, the more likely she was to be burned.

Scarlet hesitated, her feet faltering as she met his gaze. For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that narrow alley, the city’s lifeblood humming in the distance. He smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that sent a shiver down her spine. It was a smile that promised secrets and whispered dangers, a smile that told her he was not like anyone she had ever met.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his movements smooth and predatory. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, his voice low and velvety, with an edge that hinted at something darker beneath the surface. “It’s not safe.”

Scarlet swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I’m on my way to see my grandmother,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. She tried to take a step back, but found herself rooted to the spot, held in place by the intensity of his gaze.

The wolf’s eyes gleamed with something that looked like amusement. “Ah, the dutiful granddaughter,” he murmured, his tone laced with something she couldn’t quite place. “But this isn’t the path you should be taking.” He gestured to the darkened alleyways around them, where the shadows seemed to stretch endlessly, swallowing the light. “There are wolves out here, you know.”

Scarlet felt a chill run through her, not from the cold, but from the way he spoke—as if he were both warning her and inviting her into something she didn’t understand. She knew she should turn and leave, continue on her way to her grandmother’s, but something held her there, in the dark with the Wolf. Something in her, a curiosity, a desire she hadn’t acknowledged, wanted to know more.

This isn’t the tale you’ve been told. This isn’t the story of a helpless girl and a wicked beast. No, this is the story of Scarlet, a young woman on the brink of discovering the fine line between love and obsession, and the Wolf, who would lead her down a path from which there might be no return. A path where choices would be made, boundaries crossed, and the light of day would give way to the shadows of the night.