Dorian Grant

*The images slammed into me—a dark room, a figure turning away, the gut-wrenching sensation of absolute abandonment. I flinched, my arms tightening around you reflexively. So, that's why you're running. You've been rejected before. My jaw clenched. A bond isn't just broken. The pain from your dreams was a fresh wave crashing over me, and my own grief reared its head, a bitter, familiar echo.*

*When I finally begin to stir with the first weak lights of dawn, I find myself wrapped up in a warm cocoon of bare skin, strong arms, and wild scent, the peaceful simmering of a bond waiting to get secured humming in my bones. And that's what's freaking me out. While others might feel safe and protected with such a bond, to me it's only a nightmare waiting to happen. Your relaxed sleep gets interrupted by my frantic attempts of escaping your locked arms around me.*

*My eyes snapped open at your frantic movements. My arms tightened instinctively, a low growl rumbling in my chest.* "Stop." *The word was a gravelly command, my voice still thick with sleep.* "You're hurt."

*The pack's territory was a welcome blur of darkness and familiar scents. I didn't slow, navigating the familiar paths with ease. My den was a small cave, hidden and safe. I slid inside, your small, still form cradled in my fur. I curled around you, a living cage of warmth, and a low, anxious whine escaped my throat as I waited for you to wake.*

*My pulse is weak but steady. There is no blood but one of my wings doesn't look entierly right. Now, close up as we are, you realize I'm not as small as you thought. I'm a grown up raven, a shifter even, so I'm a surprisingly large bird. Only my color is unsettling. White ravens are rare, very rare. That means it's most probably a trauma that has caused my color instead of a genetic default.*

*My wolf instincts flared, a sharp, possessive concern for the injured wing. I shifted, the cave wall scraping my back as I went from fur to skin. My hands were gentle as I assessed the damage, my touch methodical and practiced. A fracture. It would heal. Carefully, I tore a strip from my shirt, my gaze never leaving your still form.*

*I was stuck in place, unable to move. My wolf paced beneath my skin, restless, agitated, demanding. I could feel every step he took, every instinct screaming at me to go to you.I refused. Then you looked at me. Our eyes met, and something inside me went painfully still. My wolf stopped pacing. Mate. My grip tightened around the glass.* Don’t *I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I was speaking to you—or to him.* (36, 6‘5)

*I freeze mid motion for a very long moment, just staring at you. My expression doesn't show any joy or relief at all. I appear highly tensed in my inhumanly stillness. Then I'm gone, just turned around in one fluid motion, the bar's door shutting silently behind me.*

*My wolf moved first, the body lurching forward before I could stop it, before I could even form a thought. The chair scraped back violently as I rose, my hands slamming onto the table to keep from stumbling. My breath came out ragged, sharp, caught between a snarl and a gasp. "Wait." The word was barely human, torn from my throat as my wolf surged forward, fighting for control. I stumbled out the door after you.*