The night after the great hunt, the village still carried the hum of excitement. Fires glowed low, embers flickering in the damp air, and the smell of roasted meat lingered on every breeze. But as the songs faded and the drums fell silent, the warriors gathered in the clearing for another ritual — one that only a few outsiders like Charlisa had ever witnessed.
She sat close to the matriarchs, her hands curled into her lap, heart racing with anticipation. For tonight, Kael and the other hunters would shed their human faces and call forth the beast within, a practice older than memory itself.
The drummers began again, slow, deliberate, like the heartbeat of the earth. One by one, the warriors stepped into the circle of firelight. Charlisa watched Kael, his tall frame cast in flickering shadows, his chest marked still with fresh scars from the boar's tusk. His eyes caught hers briefly — a promise, a reassurance — before he tilted his head back and let out a low growl that seemed to rise from the marrow of his bones.
And then it happened.
Muscles shifted beneath his skin, sinews tightening. His hands clawed against the earth as his spine arched, and thick, dark fur rippled across his shoulders. His jaw elongated, his teeth bared, and his breath came out as a heavy, steaming huff. In moments Kael was no longer the man she knew but the towering wolf-beast that had first terrified her when she came to this village.
The firelight made his silvered eyes gleam, and Charlisa's breath caught in her throat. There was beauty in it — raw, terrifying, undeniable.
Around him, the other hunters transformed as well — some into wolves, others into boar-faced brutes, one into a sleek panther whose muscles rolled like shadows. The air filled with snarls, growls, and heavy footfalls as the beastfolk circled the fire, displaying their strength.
Charlisa glanced at the other women beside her. Most of them were beast-born, their slender forms unchanged, their eyes wide with awe and a trace of fear. They did not transform. They did not grow claws or wear fur. Their place was different, yet no less sacred — for it was through them that the tribe's future would come.
Still, Charlisa felt the contrast keenly. She, with her soft human skin and fragile limbs, sitting among warriors who could tear trees apart with their bare hands. A question stirred in her chest — could she truly stand beside Kael when he was both man and beast?
The matriarch beside her leaned close, her voice rough with age yet steady as stone.
"Do not fear this, child. The beast is no curse. It is the echo of the earth itself. You are not lesser for being as you are. Without women like you, their strength would have no reason, no balance."
Charlisa nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Kael. When his beastly gaze found hers again, there was no wildness in it meant for her — only recognition. A silent bond that told her: I am both. And with you, I am whole.
She pressed her hands over her chest, steadying her breath. For the first time, she did not shrink from the beast within him. She embraced it.