He is Ghost

Heat

Her eyes closed as her jowls snapped down.

On nothing.

Neira's eyes flew wide. Before her lay dirt, nothing besides damp earth. It stunned her long enough that Neira lunged for the reins of her own body. Desperation drove her subconscious forward. Panic filled her scent.

And then she was shoved into the ground, a body on top of hers. Teeth closed on her scruff. And Neira was thrust backwards in her mind once more as the wolf regained control. She bucked, snarling as her snout pressed into the dirt. She could smell him, aggression rolling off his body and into hers. Everywhere his pelt touched hers burned like white fire.

She used all her might to try and shake him off, to try and lessen the pain.

His grip loosened when she clipped her head to the side. She felt her skin tear, but it was enough. With a quick shove on her front paws, he was tumbling backwards off of her. The animal in control of her body whirled.

He was running away from her.

Chase.

Kill.

Again.

She was running after him in the next moment, teeth snapping, paws pounding. Murder clouded her vision as she ran, blood seeping from her neck and head. Oh, she would kill him. She wanted to kill him so badly. To feel the blood well in her mouth, have it drip down off her chin. Red hazed her vision. It intoxicated her further, spurring her onward toward that running form. The wolf and the woman began to blend. Neira's subconscious began fading into the animal's; she felt herself slipping under. Only a thread kept her tethered to sanity.

His grey tail rounded a corner, dashing up a set of stairs. As she hit the steps, it was her fingers that collided first as her body shredded its wolf pelt. With the momentum, she crunched against the stairs. They shuddered under the impact. It didn't stop her. She was up in the next moment, seeing a man dashing inside the patio doors. This was his den...

She climbed the stairs slowly, as quietly as she could, with her human fingers and toes. Air came in through her nose, trying to sniff him out. Neira expected something, any inclination with the breeze to show that he was here - that he had ever been here... But there was nothing, no scent of earthy forest. Not even a hint of that musky fog that coated his skin.

Pain ran up her spine like a blade being dragged along her body, her shoulders jerking at an odd angle. She rounded the corner of the open door, peering inside at the empty living room. There wasn't even a spot of mud on the floor from paws or feet. It was as if he had vanished...

Someone had trained him well.

Her foot crossed the threshold, and softly another step followed. It was so hard to keep quiet with the burning under her skin, even harder as she tried to control her breathing.

Then the scent of him hit her. Neira had reached the middle of the room when he dropped down behind her, seemingly from the vaulted ceilings—copper burned in his eyes, his broad, solid chest shaking in rage.

She let out a snarl as he lunged at her. His hand closed around her arm as her palm came up, aiming for his nose. She missed him by an inch, hitting the bottom of his eye socket instead. She countered with an elbow to the side of his head. It connected, and he let out a grunt. His other hand came up, twisting her free arm behind her back.

He slammed her into the wall - one arm pinned behind her, the other against the wall.

"Neira," he snarled, breath fanning her neck. It burned. Oh god, it burned.