Welcome aboard. Enjoy your stay to the other world.

"Ms. Wong, it's good to see you." George approached her with a casual smile.

Catherine paused in her sketching, a flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise neutral expression as she noticed George approaching.

"Oh, good day, sir," she murmured, her voice soft.
George nodded in greeting and stepped closer. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

"Sure," Catherine replied with a nod, setting her sketchbook and pencil case aside.
George settled into the seat, a small smile playing on his lips. "Are you a regular here?" he asked.

"Oh," Catherine mumbled shyly. "Not really. I just needed somewhere cool to escape the heat."
"Tell me about it," George agreed. "The Philippine weather can be brutal sometimes."
Catherine nodded politely, her gaze drifting around the cafe.

"So, uh, what were you drawing earlier? Did I interrupt you?" George asked casually, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Catherine hesitated for a moment. She hadn't expected her professor to be so informal. It was a little surprising, considering the usual formality. But she shrugged it off. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was because he'd been an art major in college. That was a common thread.
"Just an original character of mine," she replied.

"Oh? Nice. Mind if I take a look?" George asked politely.

Catherine slid the sketchbook across the table, offering it to him. She didn't mind showing it off; the drawing was nearly finished, and the character's design was clearly visible.
George leaned in, his gaze curious and observant as he studied the sketch. Catherine's drawing depicted an eccentric, humanoid figure with avian features. Its skin and eyes were a striking blue, and it bore a distinct resemblance to a self-portrait. George nodded thoughtfully, a small smile touching his lips as he looked up at Catherine.

They held each other's gaze for a moment. Catherine offered a polite smile, while George's expression was paused, unreadable.

"What's the story behind it?" George asked, finally breaking the silence and shifting his gaze.

Catherine hesitated, glancing away for a moment as she considered how much to share. "It's… another version of myself, I suppose. Just an absurd way of expressing different facets of who I am."

"Hmm," George murmured, nodding in understanding. "Well, no matter the version, you're beautiful in every one." He offered a charming smile.

Catherine froze, unsure how to react. It felt… odd, coming from a professor. Not inappropriate, exactly, but definitely unexpected. She wasn't sure if she was surprised or simply clueless about his intentions.

"I… I think it does," she managed, lowering her head slightly and offering a shy smile.

George nodded politely, his eyes drifting away as he fell silent. A few moments of quiet stretched between them. Catherine, feeling the conversation had run its course, reached for her phone in her bag, feigning interest to avoid further interaction. George, meanwhile, seemed lost in thought.

"Uh, Ms. Wong," George began, breaking the silence.

Catherine looked up, tilting her head slightly in question.
"Would you be my model?" George asked, the question hanging in the air.

The unexpected request took Catherine aback. Deciding it was time to leave, she began gathering her things, quickly stowing her sketchbook, pencil case, and phone in her bag.
"Uh, Ms. Wong?" George asked, a flicker of confusion crossing his face at her sudden movement.

Catherine stood, a neutral expression settling on her face. "I appreciate your kind words about my drawing, sir," she said, her tone firm, "but I don't think it's appropriate, or even morally sound, to suggest something so out of the blue."

 A hint of annoyance edged her words.

George paused, then chuckled softly as he regained his composure. "No, no, you misunderstand," he said, standing to face her.

 "I'm looking for an art model for my upcoming exhibit. I need to submit a masterpiece by the end of the month," he explained, "It's nothing inappropriate or ridiculous, I assure you. I would have explained it all if you'd given me a chance." He added, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Catherine looked away, considering her options. She could either hear her professor out or leave, ignoring him entirely. Ignoring him seemed like the best course of action, but she'd be seeing him in class for the next five months. It would be awkward, to say the least. Still, ignoring him was a good way to avoid further conversations like this...

A sigh escaped her lips as she weighed the situation. Finally, she turned back slowly, her expression nonchalant. "Fine," she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "One chance."

George smiled, a grateful nod accompanying it. "The deadline for my submission is the end of August," he began eagerly. "My vision is a Dutch huntress, a beautiful huntress. I already have the costume, so you don't need to worry about that."

"A huntress?" Catherine asked, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "Why a huntress?"George paused, lowering his gaze for a moment before meeting hers again. 

 "Because the first time I saw you," he admitted shyly, yet with surprising boldness, "I had a dream. Not a weird one, of course. But I dreamt of you. You were a huntress. Magnificent."
Catherine's eyes widened in surprise. She was taken aback, but she also found his admiration… cute, in a strange way. Her main concern, however, was the sheer oddity of the situation. This conversation was something she wouldn't soon forget. And now she had no idea how to act around him. Should she be formal? Casual?

"Oh," she stammered, "That's… That's beautiful," she finished lamely, the words not at all what she'd intended to say.

George looked up, a smile gracing his lips as he met her gaze. "It is," he agreed.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, the air between them suddenly charged. It felt as if they were the only two people in the cafe, a strange and unexpected twist to their ordinary day.

"Fine, I'll do it," Catherine said, regaining her composure and adopting a businesslike tone. "But you understand I expect to be paid for this."

"Of course!" George replied eagerly. "I wouldn't dream of it otherwise. I'm prepared to double your usual rate, if you'd like."

Catherine sighed, giving in. "Accepted," she said, the annoyance returning to her voice. "When do we start?"

"Would tomorrow work?" George asked hopefully.

"Yes," Catherine replied simply. "What's the address?."

"I'll pick you up," George assured her. "Just send me your address, and I'll be there at the agreed-upon time."

The next day arrived, and George was punctual, waiting outside Catherine's building at their agreed-upon time of 10:00 AM. Both had the day free; Catherine had no classes on Fridays, and George had concocted an elaborate (and likely flimsy) excuse for his absence, claiming a sudden hospital admission.

Catherine peered out her window, confirming that George's white BMW was parked below. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, checking her appearance and the light makeup she'd applied. A moment of hesitation flickered across her face as she considered the situation. She sank onto her bed, lost in thought.

A few minutes later, her bedroom door opened, revealing Amy.

"Hey, do you know who's outside?" Amy asked, a puzzled expression on her face."Oh, it's my art history professor, Sir George," Catherine replied casually.

Amy's brows furrowed, her confusion deepening. "Professor? Why is he here? Wait, are you…?" She began, but Catherine cut her off.

"No!" Catherine exclaimed, "I'm working as his art model. It's just for today, though. I'll be back by noon, or maybe a little later."

"Strange," Amy muttered.

"Why?" Catherine asked quickly, tilting her head.

"You're not the type to do this kind of thing," Amy said, amusement in her voice.

 "Especially taking offers like that. What's the catch?" She teased, "Good grades?"

Catherine shook her head, rising from the bed and grabbing her bag from her vanity. As she walked past Amy, she said bluntly, "No. Money."

"If you two start dating, tell me first, okay?" Amy called after her as Catherine headed down the stairs.

Catherine arrived at George's house. He opened the car door for her, and she nodded her thanks, taking in the sight of his Cape Cod-style home. She wasn't overly impressed, but she was observant. She hadn't expected her professor to be so wealthy, and it made her wonder why he'd chosen a career in academia.

"Welcome to my realm," George said, a touch of theatricality in his voice as he gestured expansively.

"Cool house, sir," Catherine offered, her tone decidedly low-key.
"Do you live here alone?" she asked.

George nodded. "Yep. It looks a bit big for just one person, doesn't it? It's definitely more of a family home, but I was thrilled when it was finally finished. It suits me just fine."

Catherine nodded, listening and taking another look at the house.

"Shall we go in?" George asked, reaching for the front door.

Catherine nodded and walked to the front door, entering as George followed, closing the door behind him.

Catherine woke with a gasp, her breath catching in her throat. She rolled over and sat up, trying to steady herself. She looked around, utterly disoriented. The last thing she remembered was being on the plane, and then… darkness. She hadn't had time to process what was happening. As far as she knew, the passengers, crew, her sister Amy, and Aunt Cassie were all supposed to be evacuating. Now, she was here. Here, in an unfamiliar forest. It wasn't a dark or foggy forest; it was bright and clear, filled with ordinary trees, grass, bushes, soil, flowers, and even rare mushrooms and fungi.

Catherine was speechless, her brow furrowed in confusion as she assessed her situation and surroundings. Was she dead? The thought echoed in her mind. What had happened on the plane? Why was she here?


She stood up, trying to make sense of it all. Had she somehow jumped timelines? Shifted realities? Or was this… the afterlife? The questions swirled in her head. She noticed she was still wearing the pink linen dress from the plane.

Amy.

It took a while for her to calm down. Once she had regained some semblance of composure, she realized the complexity of her situation. The only thing she could focus on now was finding Amy and Aunt Cassie.

Catherine stood and took a deep, steadying breath. She scanned her surroundings, trying to absorb every detail. She was looking for any sign of life, but there was nothing. No sound, no scent, nothing to indicate the presence of another being.None.

A thought struck her. What if she could transform into a fox? She could move faster, cover more ground, and have a better chance of finding Amy and Aunt Cassie.
Without wasting any time, she dropped to her knees, adopting a crouch reminiscent of a fox, ready to shift. But just as the transformation began, she heard voices. She glanced quickly in the direction of the sound and darted behind a large tree, taking cover and trying to calm her racing heart.

"What did the commissioner tell us to do again?" a male voice asked.

"He said to patrol the area. Tomorrow's a big day," a female voice replied.

"What is it again?" the male voice pressed."You seriously forgot?" the female voice mocked."All I can remember is tomorrow. I'm getting promoted to lieutenant! I've waited hundreds of years for this," the male voice exclaimed.

"Fine, I'll be a supportive friend, since I know you don't have any," the female voice teased.

"Oh, right. Well, thank you so much for the support," the male voice said, annoyance lacing his sarcasm.

"Tomorrow is His Majesty's arrival from the country of the fish people," the female voice reminded him gleefully.

From her hiding place behind the tree, Catherine listened intently, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Her situation was becoming increasingly surreal.

"Right, His Majesty was assigned to negotiate some deals with the fish people for a long time," the male voice said casually.

"What do you think the deal was?" the female voice asked.

"How should I know? The captain doesn't share shit with me," the male voice grumbled.

Catherine's eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. She focused, using one of her abilities—a talent she hadn't revealed to anyone. In their family, only a few possessed such abilities. While most were born as half-fox, half-human hybrids, their primary ability was limited to transformation. Catherine, however, was born with nine tails and the ability to sense sounds and scents from miles away (though not that far). This ability, like her fox form, only lasted for five or six hours.

She sensed that the two voices were coming from her right. They were some distance away, obscured by the bushes and rolling hills. To her left, the path was overgrown with thick, green foliage—a perfect cover for her escape.

Wasting no time, Catherine lowered her body into a crouch, mimicking the posture of a fox. Within three minutes, the transformation was complete.

Her fox form was white, marked with red around her eyes and a distinctive red huadian mark on her forehead. She carefully lowered her nine tails, concealing them from view.

Catherine ran, moving as silently as possible. As her speed increased, she inevitably made some slight rustling sounds, but she dismissed them, figuring that speed was her best defense.

"Sergei, did you hear that?" a female voice asked.

Sergei paused, his face shifting, morphing into a wolf-like visage as he cautiously sniffed the air.

"Sergei, am I going crazy, or do I smell a scent of a…" The female voice trailed off.
"Demon," Sergei finished her sentence.

"I was going to say skunk," the female voice retorted.

Sergei ignored her, focusing on pinpointing the source of the scent.

"Where's it coming from?" the female voice asked, now sounding alert.

Sergei slowly surveyed his surroundings, his expression intense as he searched. His gaze fell on the tree Catherine had been hiding behind. He stared at it for a long moment, realizing that the scent was emanating from there.

"Mina, it's over there," Sergei said, pointing to the tall oak tree, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Mina looked at the tree curiously, then exchanged a glance with Sergei, a silent communication passing between them.

"Let's, uh, engage," Mina whispered.

Sergei stopped her, holding out an arm to prevent her from moving. He nodded, indicating that he would handle it alone."I'll do it. Stay here," Sergei whispered sternly.

"What? I'm not going to let you eat a skunk. You'll die," Mina argued, her voice a little louder.

"Quiet!" Sergei hissed.

Mina gave him an annoyed look but relented, stepping back. Sergei approached cautiously, then dropped into a low, wolf-like crouch. A light emanated from him, and Mina, noticing the sudden glow, turned back to check on him.

To her surprise, she saw Sergei in his wolf form. He was dark grey and enormous, probably the size of an adult bison. Mina stared at him, a mixture of awe and confusion on her face.
"What do you think you're doing? I didn't think you were this dramatic about a skunk!" Mina exclaimed, chuckling slightly.

"Mina," Sergei rumbled, his voice low and animalistic, "I don't think that's a skunk. Move away." He commanded.

"Don't order me around!" Mina retorted, annoyed. "I'm a higher rank than you."

Sergei ignored her grumbling and moved past her, adopting a low, hunting posture. He approached the tree cautiously, his gaze intense and predatory. Reaching the tall oak, he paused, sniffing the air again. The scent was stronger now, and he was even more certain of what it was. His eyes widened in surprise.
He glanced back at Mina, who stood with her arms crossed, still annoyed. Sergei's expression was urgent. "Mina! Retreat!" he exclaimed.

Mina looked confused and shook her head, refusing to take orders from him, especially after their earlier exchange.

"What? Why?" she grumbled.

"It's not a skunk, it's a..."

Catherine ran faster, a blur of white and red against the green of the forest, dodging trees and bushes. She didn't look back; her focus was singular. Find Amy and Aunt Cassie. She refused to believe they were dead. The fact that she was alive meant there was a chance they were too. The memory of the wolfman, Blanco, from the previous day surfaced in her mind.

"The emperor demands your presence."

She was still puzzling over Blanco's words, curious about this emperor he spoke of.As she ran, she tripped over a gnarled tree root, hidden beneath the undergrowth. She fell, tumbling into a deep hole in the ground with a small cry. She landed with a groan, covered in dirt. Sitting up, she realized she was assailed by an odd smell, a complex mix of river garbage and… something distinctly raccoon-like. She looked at her hands and realized she was covered in some kind of…feces. Or at least, she thought it was feces. The greasy, almost oily texture of the dirt certainly suggested it, but the smell was far more conclusive.

"Ugh," Catherine groaned, disgusted. She stood up, brushing herself off, realizing she'd likely stepped in some animal's droppings. "This sucks!" she cried in frustration. Looking up, she assessed the depth of the hole. It was deep, but not too deep. She crouched, preparing to jump out.

"We should inform his majesty!"
"Hell we are!"

The same voices from earlier echoed nearby. Catherine froze, her brow furrowing in annoyance. She remained still, trapped in her sticky predicament, and forced herself to be patient.

"Mina, go on without me," Sergei said urgently, stopping in his tracks. He remained in his wolf form.

"What? I'm not leaving you behind," Mina protested, halting but clearly displeased.

"Just go," Sergei growled, his voice low and firm. "I'll follow later. I just need to check something before I leave. Just making sure."

Mina hesitated, considering whether to obey. She glanced around, weighing the situation.
"Tsk. Fine," she grumbled finally, turning and running off without Sergei. He watched her go.


Catherine used her heightened senses to observe for a few more moments before making a move. When the noises died down, she decided it was her chance. She couldn't bear being covered in grime any longer. She gathered herself, poised, and in a flash, jumped out of the hole, landing lightly on the other side. She quickly brushed the dirt off her fur, ensuring every last speck was gone.

Suddenly, Sergei, who had been hiding in the bushes, leaped out with a loud growl, ambushing Catherine from behind. The force of his attack sent her stumbling forward, nearly throwing her against the scattered sticks and brush.

Instinctively, Catherine spun around and lashed out, her claws raking across Sergei's face. He managed to dodge the blow, but the near miss sent her sprawling again. The impact was jarring, but she recovered quickly, regaining her footing.

This time, she didn't attack. She held her ground, staring at Sergei with a fierce, animalistic gaze. Sergei mirrored her stance, both of them poised for combat, waiting for the other to make the first move. Catherine lowered her body, her nine tails bristling, radiating her sudden surge of adrenaline.

"Who is he?" Catherine wondered. "Is he a regular wolf, or a hybrid, too?"


Sergei's wolf eyes were fixed on Catherine's nine tails. He stopped growling, his expression shifting to one of intense observation. Catherine, meanwhile, was calculating her next move, searching for an opportunity to escape. She didn't want to fight; she just wanted to find Amy and Aunt Cassie.

Minutes ticked by, and neither of them moved. Sergei remained on guard, his stare intimidating. Catherine continued to scan her surroundings, looking for the most efficient escape route. She didn't want to waste energy on a fight, but she knew she might have to if she wanted to get away.

Then, an idea sparked in her mind. She remembered the wolfman, Blanco. Maybe she could use that information to her advantage. 

Catherine composed herself, searching for the right words to break the tense silence—words that would sound civil, not hostile.

"Who are you?" Sergei asked, his voice low. His eyes were still alert, but he seemed slightly less tense.

Taking the opportunity, Catherine met his gaze and explained her situation as quickly as possible. "I'm Catherine. I'm human… and a nine-tailed fox. As you can see, I'm lost. I'm alone in this forest. I was with my aunt Cassie and Amy on a plane, and then… I woke up here."

Sergei paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

"I'm not your enemy," Catherine continued, her tone passive. "I don't mean any harm. I just want to find my family."

"I know what you are," Sergei said, his voice still low. "Your scent earlier… that's how I knew what I was dealing with." He paused, then added menacingly, "A nine-tailed fox demon."
Catherine frowned at his words but decided to let it go. She needed to clarify things and find a chance to escape.

"I've heard of your kind," Sergei said, his voice low as he began to pace back and forth. Catherine mirrored his movement, keeping a safe distance.

"It was your kind that destroyed the empire of our ancestors," Sergei accused, stopping abruptly, still on guard. "So tell me again: who are you, and what's your business here?" His voice was serious and firm, the earlier softness gone.Catherine sighed inwardly, realizing the futility of her situation. The reputation of the malevolent nine-tailed fox was still very much alive, making it impossible to convince him of her true nature or avoid a confrontation.

"I'm not the evil fox you've heard stories about," she said, trying again. "I'm a college dropout who lived a normal life. I fell in love, but my heart was broken when I found out my ex-lover died. I was supposed to be on vacation in Siargao, and then… then I was here." She trailed off, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"Siargao?" Sergei repeated, a note of confusion in his voice.

"Siargao in the Philippines! Aren't you Filipino? Or at least from the province?" Catherine asked, equally confused.

Sergei paused, frowning in a comical mixture of bewilderment and annoyance at her question.

"I don't care where you're from," he snapped, dismissing her words. "Answer my question!" He maintained his serious, authoritative demeanor.

Just as Catherine was about to reply, she felt an invisible, heavy force pressing down on her shoulders, forcing her to the ground. She groaned, the pressure causing her discomfort and scrambling her senses. The sensation was similar to being crushed by heavy rocks. She continued to groan, the invisible weight pressing down harder.

Sergei was taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise at Catherine's sudden collapse. He stepped back, speechless and confused, torn between helping her and leaving her to whatever unseen force was afflicting her.

"Hey! What's going on with you?" Sergei asked, a note of panic in his voice. He was clearly unsure what to do.

Catherine, overwhelmed by the sudden pain, lost consciousness, her eyelids closing gently.

Sergei wrestled with his conscience. He didn't want to help her. She was a fox demon, after all, and his pride—his sense of duty—told him not to get involved. He didn't want any trouble. Yet, seeing her like this, he was frustrated, cursing himself for being so conflicted.

Cautiously, he approached Catherine's unconscious form, sniffing the air as he drew closer. He stopped a few inches away, still hesitant. Suddenly, Catherine's fox body was enveloped in a bright light, forcing Sergei to shield his eyes.

As the light slowly faded, Sergei cautiously turned back to check on her.

Catherine was now in her human form, naked, her smooth skin exposed. Her long, wavy black hair covered her back and part of her buttocks. She lay on her back, seemingly peaceful in her unconsciousness.

Seeing her human form confirmed his suspicions: she was a foreigner. Her East Asian features were clear. He looked at her, still conflicted, almost giving in to the urge to help, despite the potential consequences. He couldn't just leave her lying there in the forest. His scent was already at the scene, which meant if a patrol came by, they would connect Catherine's body to him—more trouble he didn't need.

"Now, what do we have here?" a male voice said from behind. Sergei froze, turning slowly to face the speaker.

"I must say, your dinner is quite interesting," the man said, amusement lacing his voice.

"Your royal highness!" Sergei greeted quickly, bowing as he recognized the man before him—the emperor's brother, Luchezar "Lucas" Nikolayevich. Lucas approached silently.

He stopped a short distance from Sergei, a smirk playing on his lips, and tilted his head to see what was behind him. His eyes narrowed slightly, a half-smirk still present, as he moved towards Catherine's unconscious form with undisguised curiosity. He stood before her, his expression unreadable.

"Your royal highness, please don't imprison or harm her," Sergei pleaded, his conscience finally winning out.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, his expression nonchalant yet amused. "Who said I was going to imprison or harm her? That's simply idiotic," he replied dismissively. He knelt beside Catherine, observing her silently.

"Is that so? Then I'm relieved," Sergei said calmly.

"What is she?" Lucas asked, turning his gaze on Sergei.

Sergei hesitated, then quickly fabricated a story. He had to take responsibility for her now, since he'd let her live. "She's a wolf, sir," he said firmly. "My cousin, on my mother's side." He added the detail for credibility.

Lucas was silent, his face giving nothing away. The silence stretched for a long moment, making Sergei increasingly nervous.

"You claim she's a wolf. That's…unique," Lucas said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "She smells rather sweet to me, almost like those Japanese mochi I used to eat when I was in Japan."
"Sir, uh, that must be—," Sergei began, but Lucas cut him off.

"I'll take her to his majesty," Lucas said casually. "He should be the one to decide what to do with her." He stood up and casually loosened his dark navy blue blazer. Then, he knelt again beside Catherine and, with a nonchalant air, turned her body. He placed his arms under her head and legs, lifting her into a bridal carry, then draped his blazer over her naked form. Without another word, he stood and walked past Sergei, carrying Catherine in his arms.

Sergei stared after him, slightly bewildered, but remained silent. He was still trying to understand why he had helped Catherine earlier. The question lingered in his mind.

"Sir, is this the huntress dress?" Catherine asked, eyeing her costume. It resembled a modernized version of a Greek goddess gown, a cool-toned brown, and she wore a flower crown.

George looked up from where he was adjusting his camera, paused, and offered a polite smile. "You look beautiful."

Catherine nodded a polite thanks, then stared at him briefly, trying to avoid making the situation awkward. She turned away, pretending to examine his photo studio, both to pass the time and to create a less awkward atmosphere. She stopped by a chair and sat down, her eyes still drifting around the room.

"So, Ms. Wong," George began, a hopeful look on his face. "Before we start, I wanted to say I'm really glad you agreed to do this."
Catherine nodded, her expression neutral as she pursed her lips. "Only for the money," she replied.

George nodded understandingly. He stood up, camera in hand. "Well, shall we start?" he asked.

"Wait," Catherine said, looking up at him. "I thought you were going to draw me."
"I am," George clarified. "But I need to take a few pictures for reference. You see, the drawing would, of course, require you to be here for extended periods, but I don't want to bother you with that. I just need the pictures, and, well, you as the model."

"Right, right," Catherine mumbled, nodding in agreement.

"So, if you could just stand over there," George instructed, gesturing to a spot in front of him. He backed away, setting up his equipment. He adjusted his camera on a tall tripod, checked the settings, and began to prepare.

Catherine walked over to the white backdrop and stood in front of it, facing the camera and waiting for George's instructions. George finished setting up the reflector and lights, positioning them to highlight her best angles.

Once everything was in place, George stepped behind his camera and looked up at Catherine. "Okay, Ms. Wong, ready?" he asked eagerly.

Catherine nodded, offering a small smile as she composed herself, preparing to pose.

George held his camera steady, looking through the lens at Catherine. "Okay, Ms. Wong," he said. "Just do whatever pose feels natural to you."

Catherine paused, considering what pose she wanted to strike. She thought for a moment. Something casual, yet strong, would be a good start.
She shifted slightly to the side, straightened her posture, tilted her head up at a slight angle, and looked directly at the camera with a small smile.

George, seeing her pose, adjusted his camera and began to take the picture. "Alright, Ms. Wong," he said. "On the count of three..."
1
2
3


Catherine's eyelids fluttered open, her thoughts slowly coalescing as she drifted back from sleep. She gently opened her eyes, realizing she was in an unfamiliar room. It was large and opulent, decorated in shades of gold and cream, accented with classic grey and black furniture. Large windows lined the walls, interspersed with portraits of people she didn't recognize. There were also several large closets and a beautifully crafted, luxurious desk and chair set. She woke to find herself lying on a large, comfortable queen-sized bed, covered in grey and black bedding.

Looking down, she noticed she was wearing a long, white, ruffled dress. She sat up, taking in her surroundings, a growing sense of unease settling over her. Where was she?

"Where am I?."

"Who'd place is this?."

Catherine then quickly stepped down, then she became to regain her memories from earlier. She remembered that she lost consciousness from earlier which she was also questioned into why she lost consciosuness, she also remembered the wolf she encountered with. Catherine then began to walked towards the door, attempting to leave. As she was about to leave. The door opened casually and as the door opened.

Catherine quickly got out of bed, her memories of the day slowly returning. She remembered losing consciousness—a fact she was still trying to understand—and the wolf she had encountered. She walked towards the door, intending to leave, but as she reached it, the door opened.

Catherine stopped short, face to face with someone new. He was tall and muscular, but not overly so, with tattoos on his neck. His expression was detached and cold. He had black hair with red highlights in the front, styled in a 60/40 split two-block cut with a light fade on the sides and back. His features were typically European, and his eyes were grey. He had a strong, well-defined bone structure.

Catherine and the man locked eyes. Catherine raised her eyebrows, surprised, while the man simply stared back, his expression unreadable.