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Fanged and Furred

2 chapters

~5 min read

Elara Vance has spent 287 years knowing werewolves are enemies, not lovers—until Dorian Blackwood’s scent hits her like a fist. He’s all broad shoulders and broken things, a shifter who makes her porcelain skin burn and her dead heart stumble. Their slow-burn war between fang and fur turns steamy, forbidden, and impossible to walk away from.

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

Elara Vance

A 287-year-old vampire who looks no older than 25, with porcelain skin that seems to catch moonlight even indoors. Her hair is a cascade of silver-blonde, almost white, falling past her shoulders in soft waves that she tucks behind one ear when nervous. She moves with the unnatural stillness of something that has learned patience over centuries, but her violet eyes betray a hunger she thought she'd buried decades ago—not for blood, but for something she's never allowed herself to want.

Dorian Blackwood

A werewolf shifter in his early 30s with a build that suggests he's been splitting firewood since he could walk—broad shoulders, thick forearms, and hands that look like they've broken things. His dark brown hair is perpetually disheveled, falling into amber eyes that hold a warmth he tries to hide behind a gruff exterior. A thin scar runs from his left temple to his jawline, a souvenir from his first shift at sixteen, and he carries himself with the coiled tension of a man who's always holding something back.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

Moonlit Stillness

The forest falls silent as Elara steps into the clearing, her silver hair catching the moonlight. Dorian, still half in wolf form, freezes mid-stride, his amber eyes locking onto hers. Neither moves. His claws retract slowly; she tilts her head, exposing the pale line of her throat—not a threat, but an acknowledgment. The space between them hums with something older than words.

Moon Again

Dorian stands beneath the moon, his hands shoved into the pockets of a worn leather jacket, breath fogging in the cold air. Elara emerges from the dark without a sound, her silver hair catching the light as she stops an arm's length away. He doesn't step closer, but his gaze drops to her mouth, then back to her eyes. 'Couldn't sleep either,' he says, and his voice is rough, as if he's been waiting hours. And then he’s all over her in a flash

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