Prem, a normal village boy haunted by his past, discovers a wounded wolf one night. When the wolf transforms into real human (Boun), an alpha werewolf, their worlds collide. Amidst love and danger, Prem must navigate their forbidden relationship and...
The morning light filtered softly through the trees, painting the yard in gentle shades of gold. Prem stepped outside, a bundle of his old clothes pressed against his chest. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth. He hesitated as he approached Boun, who lay on a thin mat of grass beneath the shelter of a low-hanging branch. The alpha werewolf was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence.
Prem swallowed hard, his eyes catching on Boun's bare torso, which was half-covered by a tattered blanket. Despite the wounds, his physique was striking......muscles taut and defined, a mix of strength and vulnerability laid bare. Prem felt heat creep up his neck and quickly looked away, chastising himself for staring. He had seen many people in the village, but there was something about Boun's quiet, unguarded state that tugged at him.
"Boun?" Prem called softly, stepping closer.
There was a shift...a low, soft growl in the back of Boun's throat, more a reflex than a threat. His eyes fluttered open, gold flecks catching the morning light. For a moment, he seemed disoriented, but recognition dawned when his gaze met Prem's.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Good morning," Prem offered, keeping his voice gentle. He held out the clothes. "Here. These are... mine. I know they won't fit perfectly, but... you shouldn't be like this." His words stumbled, a mix of shyness and concern. "You need to be covered."
Boun sat up slowly, wincing as the movement tugged at his injuries. He took the clothes, his fingers brushing Prem's hand. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice low and rough from sleep.
Prem averted his eyes, focusing on a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the yard. "It's nothing. Just... put them on." He turned his back, giving Boun privacy to change, but couldn't stop himself from fidgeting. "I'll check your wounds afterward."
There was a rustling sound as Boun shifted, and Prem's pulse quickened when he heard a quiet chuckle. "You can turn around now," Boun said, his tone lighter, teasing.
Prem turned, his gaze skimming over Boun's frame. The borrowed shirt stretched taut across Boun's broad shoulders and hung loose in other places. It was comical but strangely endearing. Prem found himself smiling without meaning to. "It... suits you," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.
Boun tilted his head, studying him. "I'll take your word for it." There was warmth in his gaze, and for a moment, the tension melted away. But then he noticed Prem's swollen cheek, the bruise vivid against his skin. "Your face?..."
Prem's smile faltered. "It's fine."
"It's not," Boun said, his voice hardening. He reached out, but Prem stepped back, shaking his head.
"Don't... It'll only make things... worse," Prem whispered, his eyes glassy. "You don't understand...."
A heavy silence hung between them. Then, Boun dropped his hand and nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," he said. "For what you go through. No one deserves it."
