🐺 Dominic's POV:
"Agh-damn it, my head!"
Birds chirping. Sun stabbing me straight in the eyes. Snow everywhere, blinding white as far as I can see. And me? I feel like I got flattened by a freight train, reversed over for good measure, then gnawed on by a rabid chihuahua. Every vein heavy, bones aching, even my wolf curled up in the corner of my chest, whimpering.
Then I smell him. Sweet, sharp, like frost and old wine-with a dash of cinnamon. And there he is, clinging to me like a starfish with abandonment issues.
"...Puppers? You alive?" His whisper is tiny. Too tiny. Like if he says it any louder, I'll disappear. He squeezes me tighter.
I groan, trying to sit up-but nope. Body says no. Arms say no. Brain says hell no. So instead, I just pull him closer. "Still breathing, dumbass. Stop crying like someone canceled your Netflix subscription."
He sniffles. Actually sniffles. "I almost killed you, and you're making jokes? Buddhu mota bhalu!" (Foolish fat bear).
"...Yeah. What else am I supposed to do? Write my own eulogy? And what the fuck did you just call me?"
He smirks, eyes wet but cheeky. "That was Hindi! I told you-you're as strong as a grizzly!"
"Sure sounded like an insult." I muttered.
"You can speak Hindi?" I ask, squinting at him.
"Of course. My mom's Indian. I inherited Hindi...along with six other Indian languages from her side of the family." He tilts his head like it's no big deal. "Oh, wait-did I never tell you that?"
"...No?!"
He giggles nervously. "Oops. Guess I forgot. We vampires inherit every language spoken by our ancestors. So, uh, technically I can speak like...three hundred? Some of them aren't even used anymore."
I just stare. Three hundred. My wolf brain can barely handle English before coffee.
🧛 Lean's POV:
His groan is the ugliest, most beautiful sound I've ever heard-like angels gargling gravel. My Puppers is alive. Alive. I didn't lose him.
The second his eyes flicker open, I almost burst into tears again. I've been holding him so tightly my arms feel like noodles, but I don't care. I'd rather snap my own spine than let him go.
"...Puppers? You alive?" My voice cracks, pathetic, like some heartbroken Bollywood side character. If he says no, I'll combust on the spot.
And what does this absolute idiot do? He jokes. "Still breathing, dumbass. Stop crying like someone canceled your Netflix subscription."
I want to laugh. I want to scream. Instead, I sniffle (yes, I admit it). "I almost killed you, and you're making jokes? BUDDHU MOTA BHALU!!!"
He blinks like I just summoned Satan. "...yeah. What else am I supposed to do? Write a eulogy? And what the fuck you called me?"
Oh, he's so clueless it makes me ache. I could swear at him in ten hundred different ways and he'd probably think I was confessing love. I grin through my tears. "That was Hindi, Puppers! Means you're as strong as a grizzly!"
Okay... half truth. It also means he's a dumb fat bear, but what he doesn't know won't kill him.
"You can speak Hindi?" His voice is ragged, suspicious, gorgeous.
I puff up like a proud peacock. "Of course! Mom's Indian, remember? Vampires inherit languages through bloodlines. I speak, like, three hundred tongues-including a few dead ones".
Basically, I'm a multilingual disaster. Cool, right?"
And for a heartbeat, I swear I see awe flicker in his stormy eyes. Which is unfair. He's the one who should terrify me, hate me, probably make stew of me by now. But instead my dead heart does the stupid thing again-beats for a wolf who shouldn't be mine.
🐺 Dominic's POV:
"Anyways, let's get home! The house is already a mess, and I have to head out for college. Don't you have your job too?"
He curls up against my bare chest even more. "Please… can't we be like this sometimes more?"
Freaking baby.
"I am not your damn boyfriend! Go get one!" I snarl.
"But I… you…"
I whoosh him, leaning in close, my voice low and husky in his ear. "I and you—it doesn't matter. It's just a perspective I admire exploring. Will you, Vamps?" I chuckle, my lips brushing over his ear.
And the fool—oh gods—the fool—he's blushing like he just turned into Dory from Finding Nemo. Classic antics. Then he wiggles in my grip like a fish out of water.
Seriously… why am I even trying to be romantic with this idiot? Wait—am I the romantic fool here?
🧛 Lean's POV:
Fuck, what got into this wolf last night?! The Puppers I remember would've shredded me for the tiniest inconvenience (okay, maybe I cause big inconveniences), and now… now he's like… I don't even know what the hell this is!
He… he said perspective. My brain short-circuits. My tummy does that weird caterpillar walk.
And the way his lips brushed my ear—oh demons, Puppers, you disaster.
"I… I… I don't even know what that means," I squeak, clutching his arms like my life depends on it. But the truth? My chest feels too small for all this chaos. His warmth, his smell, his stupid, husky voice—it's breaking me and building me at the same time. I just want to kiss this mutt, but I'm terrified he'll push me away. I can't bear that. I can survive him cursing at me or beating the crap out of me… but getting pushed away? No, I can't.
Then he laughs, brushing a stray curl off my forehead, and my knees threaten to give out. "You're ridiculous," he mutters—but it comes out half-giggle, half-sob, and fully unholy, even to me.
Ridiculous? Me? No. He's the ridiculous one. All of him. My Puppers. The giant, grumpy, impossibly strong, impossibly soft wolf-man who somehow makes me feel like I'm both drowning and flying at the same time.
I can't help it. I squirm in his arms, trying to wiggle free, but my stupid body won't cooperate. "I—uh—I don't… I can't… I mean—"
He grins down at me, all sharp teeth and impossible charm, and I melt like butter under a vampire sun. "Yeah, yeah, Vamps. Keep squirming. Makes you more ridiculous! And you know I have a taste for stupid things."
My cheeks burn colder than a glacier, and I swear—if anyone looked at me right now, they'd know: I am completely, irreversibly, head-over-heels doomed for this walking, snarling disaster.
And Satan, his body, his face! The brown of him—the richness of his skin—shines from every toned curve of his muscles, especially in the contrast of the white snow.
"Ok, let's get going," he finally releases me from his death grip. Unfortunately… I kinda wish I could stay crumpled under it forever.
🐺 Dominic's POV:
Well, the vampire.exe has officially crashed. Okay, note to self: never get too cocky around vampires—they might just stop functioning entirely. (At this point, I'm basically writing a vampire care guidebook.)
I stand up like an Avenger—team Iron Man, obviously. Because you killed my dad? You're dead. I don't care.
But him? Oh, he's still flopped over the snow, porcelain cheeks glowing, blue blush marks shining like some cursed pearl. And he's staring at me like a complete dumbfuck.
"You like what you see?" I tease, flipping my dark, messy hair, tensing my biceps, flexing my toned stomach against the sun like some kind of snow-blinded supermodel I am!
Results?
Blue blood! Dripping From his nose.
"What the fuck!!"
I yank him up and slap his ass just to snap him out of it.
"Ahuch!! That hurts!!"
"Then stop staring at me like a damn pervert!!"
"I'm not the pervert! You're the pervert!!"
"Oh, sure. I guess someone screamed a few days ago that vampires are foul-mouthed, lustier-than-incubus-and-succubus demons."
"That has nothing to do with this right now!"
"Yeah, sure. You're not a pervert—you're just… admiring fine shit, right?" I bend down, whispering in his ear, and feel him shiver. Delicious.
"Anyway… strip down." I command.
"What?!"
"What! What?!"
"What! What! What? Why?!"
"What! Why? When?!"
Fuck this is a mess.
"Stop!!" I bark.
"No whys and whats!" I pinch his lips closed, because god help me, he's about to drive me insane.
🧛 Lean's POV:
Oh holy hell, what got into this wolf?! Puppers is…different. Dangerous. Infuriating. And for some ungodly reason, my heart is doing somersaults.
I'm flopped on the snow like a broken porcelain doll, staring at him, and he—he just knows I'm staring. My nose? Bleeding blue. I got a nosebleed just by looking at a wolf dude! Why is my life like this?!
"You like what you see!" he teases, flipping his hair and flexing like some damn Greek Big G, sunbathing on snow. I drool—and it tickles down the dark, dried blood still smeared on my lips.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!" he squeak,
Me? trying to sit up but failing spectacularly.
He yanks me up and—oh my Devils —slaps my ass. Hard. Pain shoots up my spine.
"AHUCH!! THAT HURTS!!"
"Then stop staring at me like a damn pervert!!"
"I—I'M NOT THE PERVERT!! YOU—YOU'RE THE PERVERT!!"
His grin is infuriating. He leans in close, eyes glowing gold, his smell driving me insane like a vampire in heat. Then he whispers in that husky, fire-and-chaos voice that makes me want to melt and combust at the same time. How can a man sound this deep and unholy?
"Yeah, sure, you're not a pervert—you're just admiring fine shit, right?"
I am dead. No, I am a vampire, I'm already undead! Ok I am alive then, My knees threaten mutiny, my ears are on fire, and my brain is completely fried.
Then—then he says it.
"Anyway… strip down."
I freeze. Frozen. Completely frozen.
"What?!"
"What! What?!"
"What! What! What? Why?!"
"What! Why? When?!"
Stop. Stop. STOP. My life, my dignity, my vampire pride—gone. All of it.
"Stop!!" he barked, I flailing like a fish in a frying pan—but he just pinches my lips closed. No whys, no whats. Just chaos.
And oh demons, my entire body betrays me. I can't stop trembling. I can't stop imagining. I can't stop wanting.
This wolf…this giant, grumpy, beautiful disaster…is ruining me. And I'm loving every insane, horrible, thrilling second of it.
"You pervert bat! I'm asking you to strip because I need clothes to get home! I can't be out on the street with a banana leaf saving my dignity like some cursed Tarzan! You can turn into your bat form and fly home!" he barks.
Me? Disappointed…lusty…well, we can't argue with that.
🐺 Dominic's POV:
This guy is just drooling after I told him to strip! Like a damn bitch on heat.
"You pervert bat! I'm asking you to strip because I need clothes to get home! I can't be out on the street with a banana leaf saving my dignity like some cursed Tarzan! You can turn into your bat form and fly home!"
"But why me?! You can do that too! Turn into your wolf form and run home! Or I can tie a rope around your neck and tell this is my dog if anyone asks!"
"You Dumbo Dolt! People would much rather see a bat flying in the morning than a horse-sized wolf barreling down the street! What, you want me to get kidnapped by animal control and thrown in a zoo?! And what house dog is this big!"
"I'll pay the zoo ticket! Maybe throw a few treats at you!" he giggles like a fool.
"VAMPS!!" He startles like a cartoon character.
"But…these are my clothes!"
"And I paid for them! And the hoodie isn't even yours—it's mine. You stole it like some raccoon!"
"Fine!" He pouts. Damn cute. I could dip him in chocolate and munch him down right there.
Then he strips down naked and stands like a damn Superman, hands on his hips. Weirded out? Not at all. This guy runs around the house like a stone-age monkey naked 90% of the time; there's nothing of him I haven't seen.
Oh, fun fact: he has five moles on his left butt cheek. Connect them, and you get a star. (Okay, I didn't actually draw a star on his ass while he was sleeping—believe me, chat!)
🧛 Lean's POV:
Okay, so I stripped down.
But listen—I don't give up my dignity. I stand proudly, naked in the snow, like Batman watching over Gotham. Puppers has seen everything anyway, so who cares anymore?
And then—disaster.
"Damn mosquito!"
That evil creature bit my LITTLE LEAN. My shalala. My ding-dong-ding!
The oversized dog? He's wheezing like crazy. I swear he half-howled.
"Damn! God! I can't—this is too much! Hahaha—fuck—hahaha! No really! Hahehahe! The mosquito got the dick of the biggest mosquito! What was that, a love bite? Oh wait, I got better: Mosquito Porn! 'Female mosquito fell in love with the biggest mosquito and gave him a blow job!' And you're even getting an erection trying to itch it! I can't—hahaha!"
He nearly trips, clutching his stomach, gasping for air as he laughs.
I glare, muttering, "Fine! Fine! I'll get your ass soon, you mean mutt…"
Tiny pesky bugs! There's a reason Lord Luci once locked down all of Hell when one mosquito sneaked in.
"Oh, I bet I'd love that," he fires back, grinning like the menace he is.
🐺Dominic's POV:
I swear I'm going to choke to death on my own laughter. The idiot's standing naked in the snow like some tragic superhero, and then a damn mosquito goes straight for his ding-dong. Out of all places.
I'm wheezing, half-bent over, clutching my stomach. "Hahaha—fuck, I can't—mosquito porn! That's it! I'm done!" My ribs ache, but I can't stop.
He's pouting, muttering threats, and I'm grinning like the devil himself. Blue nosebleed and all, he looks like the universe's most ridiculous snack.
"Fine! Fine! I'll get your ass soon, you mean mutt!" he snaps.
"Oh, I bet you will," I growl, low and husky—just to watch him squirm.
And damn, he does. Wiggles like a fish, ears purple, thighs clenching like he's about to fight God. I can't decide if I want to laugh harder or pin him down in the snow.
Instead, I grab his discarded clothes. "Quit whining, Vamps. Be useful for once. Bat your naked ass home and leave the real world to me."
I yank his hoodie over my head. smells like him. Frost. Wine. Cinnamon. My wolf stirs, low and hungry, and suddenly the laughter dies in my throat. Trouble. Big, stupid trouble.
Then I catch him staring at me again.
"Yo! Bastard, what are you looking at? Turn around, have some sanity!"
"I'm a monster. I don't have sanity."
…shit, he's got a point.
"Fuck off, I don't care! Turn around or—"
"But I'm naked too! What's your problem? You were naked as a wolf anyway!"
"Not the same thing! I swear if you don't turn around, I'll run and never come back!"
That did it. He spun around so fast he looked like a sulky pufferfish.
"Good boy," I chuckle, wrestling into his jeans. They're small, but I manage. Barely.
"Alright," I mutter, brushing snow off my shoulders. "Let's go home before someone really does throw me in a zoo."
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-
So he turns into his big-ass bat form—complete with a thirty-second Power Rangers transformation. Red light, glittery little bats swirling around him, dramatic shrieking, the whole show. Then boom—giant golden-crowned flying fox, flapping off toward home like some winged Hollywood hero.
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. "What a life. Almost killed by a demon bat, now babysitting him. This is life." I mutter, shoving through knee-deep snow, jeans threatening mutiny every few steps.
Thirty minutes later, after slipping, cursing, and nearly losing my jeans to frostbite…
Finally—home. And what do I see first? My oversized bat hanging upside down on the front door like a bat stripper model, while some random guy is snapping pictures like he discovered Bigfoot.
Great. Just great, sure, take pictures of the freak bat, ignore the man freezing his balls off in the snow, because someone decided to suck half of his blood away! I wander if I was not a werewolf and had quick healing what would have happened I would have found dead like a shrunken banana, that somehow got forgotten in the freezer.
I chased the man away as he cursed me as an rabid dog!! A Rabid Dog? I am a fucking Alpha Wolf!! It's that simple.
I snatch Vamps by the ankle and yank him down. He yelps, shifts mid-air, and lands butt-naked on the couch.
"HEY! I was modeling! Do you even know how rare I am? Insta would've FLOODED with likes once they saw my majestic reddish wings!"
"Yeah. And then animal control would've bagged your shiny ass because—newsflash—your species isn't native to America."
"We were native to Pennsylvania before our ancestors manifested into that species! Our great-great-great-great-great-grandpa Count Dracula had four children—"
I wave him off. "Save the family tree, Vamps. I'm late. I've got class."
I yank on proper jeans, toss on a sane hoodie, grab my bag. Shove a couple of dog treat cookies in my mouth (the ones Lean got for me last night), and head to the door.
Before stepping out, I glance back at him, still sulking naked on the couch. "Get your pretty ass up and get to your job. You need to contribute to this damn family. And hey—come back early and uh, maybe, if you're not busy being a dumbass… we'll, you know… movie night or whatever. I'll take you out for a movie night."
I grin, slam the door, and head off. First class is English. Perfect. Time for that son of Shakespeare to murder me with more tragic, premed insults.
🧛Lean's POV:
So, picture this: I am dangling upside down from the front door like the rarest, most exotic chandelier in existence. Sunlight catching on my glorious reddish-gold wings. Perfect angle. Perfect lighting. Perfect me.
And then—bam! Some wildlife photographer materializes like destiny. My moment. My future. I arch my wings, pout my lips. This is it. My international debut. "Rare giant bat spotted in Stratton, Maine!" Vogue was going to call me.
But noooo. Mr. Alpha-Wolf-Grouch storms in, growls at the poor man like a feral German Shepherd, and scares him off!
"Puppers!" I hiss, still hanging. "That was my chance to trend! #GoldenCrownMajesty was READY!"
What do I get instead? Yanked down like a bedsheet, tossed onto the couch, and—poof!—shifted back to my delicate, naked, human self. (Yes, I squealed. No, I am not ashamed.)
He doesn't even look at me. Just mutters about jeans and Shakespeare while chomping on the dog cookies I bought him last night. Excuse me?? Those were bribery snacks!
And he ignored my glorious family history like it's nothing! Rude. Insulting. I will burn his kitchen later.
And then—oh, then—he drops the unthinkable. Casually, like it's NOTHING:
"Get your pretty ass up… contribute to the family… movie night…"
Movie. Night.
WITH HIM.
Do you know what that means?? That means this broody, grumpy, snow-stomping, love-hating wolf wants to date me! It's basically a proposal! Forget rings. Forget roses. Movie night is the Dom Quinn version of "'til death do us part." …or he's just being whatever. Doesn't matter.
So there I am, stark naked on the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest, grinning like an idiot. My chest is doing a full-on Bollywood dance sequence.
And all I can think is: I'm so making him sit through a 3-hour romcom marathon.
"Okay, let's get to work soon! I'll take leave from Olivia quickly tonight! Oh—and I have to grab some cookies for BunBun. Poor corgi's probably still sulking 'cause that husky peed on his favorite peeing bush."
I throw on sunglasses, my own hoodie this time, baggy jeans (the ones Puppers washed yesterday—they still smell like grump). Grab my phone, glance at the wrecked dining room I totaled last night when I went feral and kicked a werewolf's ass. "Oh, poor Wolfie!" I sigh. Then I lock the door and gallop down the street.
Singing, of course.
🎶 "You're insecure, don't know what for… You're turning heads when you walk through the doooor… Puppers, you light up my world like nobody else!" 🎶
👨💻Author's POV:
He studied the photographs with a slow grin. "Perfect. Well done."
The images of the majestic bat glowed on the screen, each one crisp, dazzling, dangerous.
"Sir… there was a crazy guy who chased me away," the young photographer muttered nervously.
"Must be the wolf," the man whispered under his breath.
He flicked his gaze back to the trembling boy and tossed a thick bundle of crisp bills at his feet. "Keep watching them. You'll be rewarded well."
And with that, he vanished into the dark alley, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his footsteps—and the promise of something far, far worse to come.