I am a wolf

I am a wolf

We finished dining and went down to the beach and it was as we sat in the sand, legs still tangled, sun hot, ocean cool—when the question that’s been buzzing under my skin finally spills out.

“Damien… what actually happened to me last night?”

He stills—arms tightening around my waist, silver eyes searching mine.
For a second I think he’ll tease, but his face softens—gentle, proud, alpha.

“You bloomed, mon Eloise.”
He brushes wet hair from my cheek.
“I always knew you carried wolf blood.
Last night you went through the final stage.
You shifted.
You’re a full werewolf now—golden, magnificent, mine.”

The words hit like sunlight through water—warm, blinding, true.
I laugh—shaky, disbelieving. With wide curiosity I asked, “So I’m… really a wolf?”

“Yes, really,” he says, grinning so wide it crinkles his eyes.“And you’re handling it better than any new-change I’ve ever seen.
Most are feral for days—snarling, running, crashing into walls. You? You’re calm. You’re perfect.”

I bite my lip—suddenly shy.

“It’s just… everything feels huge.
The smells—salt, sunscreen, someone’s coconut coffee three hundred meters away.
The sounds—heartbeats, waves, gulls, your heartbeat—” I press my palm to his chest. “—it’s like drums in my ears.
And I want to run. All the time. Like my skin is too small.”

He laughs—deep, fond.

“That’s the adrenaline. First-week high. It’ll settle. But the running? That never really goes away. Good thing you have a mate who loves to chase.”

I swat his shoulder—splashing him. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, kissing my nose.

Then the shadow creeps in—cold, sudden.

“But… my parents are human,” I whisper.
“I’ve seen their photos—baby me, hospital bracelets, everything.
How can I possibly be a werewolf?”

The playfulness drains from his face.
He cups my cheeks—thumbs stroking, serious.

“Éloïse… I’ve already started searching for your real family.”
“Your parents—” he says the word like it tastes bitter “—they were never your blood.
One look at the records and it’s obvious.
The way they sold you to Shallow the second they could? No regret, no hesitation? That’s not love. That’s ownership.”

The ocean suddenly feels too big.
My throat closes.

“They… sold me” I echoed. The words taste like rust.

He pulls me close—chest to chest, heart to heart.

“Yes,” he says, voice low, fierce.
“And I will burn every secret they ever kept until I find who left you with them.
You deserve your pack, your history, your name.”

Tears spill—hot, salty, mixing with the sea.

“I was nobody’s, nobody to them, probably abandoned” I sob. “Just a thing to be traded.”

He growls—soft, protective. “You were never nobody. We don't know the story, for now You are Éloïse—golden wolf, my mate, future LaCroix Luna.And you are loved so fiercely the stars themselves are jealous.”

I cry harder—ugly, relieved, free.
He holds me until the sobs turn to hiccups, until the ocean washes the hurt away.

Then—because he’s Damien—his hand slides up my ribcage, cups my breast, squeezes gently.

I gasp—half-laugh, half-shocked. “What are you doing?!”

He grins—devilish, tears still on my cheeks. “Checking if you still have boobs after the shift. Very important medical examination.”

I burst out laughing—wet, loud, real.

“You’re an Idiot!” I push him away—trying to get up, playful.
He catches my wrists, pulls me back, kisses me stupid.
At

“Still perfect,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Still mine.”

I melt—happy, whole, home.

We float quietly for a while—sun drying our tears, waves rocking us like a cradle.

Then I remember.

“I need my phone.” He raises a brow.

“Right now? We’re kind of naked in the ocean.”

I roll my eyes.

“Later, genius.
I want to sketch this moment—you, me, sea, sun—before I forget how it feels to be reborn.”

He smiles—soft, awed.

“Your phone’s in the towel. But first—” He kisses me again—slow, deep, promising.
“—race you to shore.”

I shove him under—cheater’s head-start—and swim like the wolf I am.
He catches me anyway—always does.
We collapse on the sand—laughing, tangled, free.

Phone in hand, I snap a photo—us, dripping, grinning, mating mark glowing.
Caption:

Day one of forever.
I am wolf. I am loved. I am Éloïse.

I hit post—no fear, no shame.
Let the world see.

Damien reads over my shoulder, arms around me.

“Proud of you,” he whispers.

I lean back—safe, whole, home.

“Find them,” I say quietly.
“My real family. I want to know who made me golden.”

He kisses my temple.

“Already hunting, mon Eloise. And when we find them? We’ll run together—pack of three, then four, then more. Until the whole world knows your name.”

I smile—tear-streaked, sun-kissed, fearless.

“Deal,” I whisper again, the word tasting like forever.

Damien’s eyes are liquid silver in the noon light, soft and fierce all at once.
He brushes the last tear from my cheek with his thumb, then lets his hand slide down my neck, over the mating mark that still pulses like a second heartbeat.

“Can we get in the water now?” I ask, voice small but bright, like a kid who’s just been told yes to everything.

He laughs—deep, free, mine—and the sound rolls over the waves like thunder made of sunlight.

“Race you.”

This time I don’t cheat.

We run—bare feet pounding hot sand, hair flying, hearts hammering.
I hit the water first—squealing as the cold shocks my skin—then he’s right behind me, arms around my waist, lifting me off my feet and spinning us into the surf.

Salt explodes around us.
Sun shatters on the water.
Laughter spills from my mouth like I’ve never known how to stop.

He dunks me—gentle, playful—and I come up sputtering, grinning, alive.

“You’re dead, alpha!”

I launch myself at him—legs around his hips, arms around his neck, kissing him hard enough to taste ocean and him.

We sink together—slow, weightless—until the water closes over our heads.

Under the surface everything is blue-green silence.
Just bubbles, sunlight spearing down, his hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair.

We kick up—gasping, laughing, kissing again before we even breach the air.

“Again,” I demand, breathless.