The hospital always smelled the same at 2 a.m.
Sterile. Metallic. Artificially calm.
Elena Moreau pushed through the sliding doors into the cold night air, the fluorescent lights of Saint-Catherine Hospital flickering behind her. Her scrubs were wrinkled, her white coat half-buttoned, her hair tied in a loose bun that had surrendered hours ago.
Twenty-two hours on shift.
Two surgeries.
One patient lost.
She should have felt something about that.
Instead, she felt tired.
The parking lot was nearly empty. The streetlamps buzzed faintly, casting long shadows across the asphalt. A thin fog clung low to the ground, strange for early autumn.
Elena adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked toward her car.
That's when she heard it.
A sound that didn't belong.
A growl.
Low. Deep. Not mechanical. Not human.
She froze.
Her rational mind immediately began constructing explanations.
Dog.Stray.Wind through metal fencing.
Another sound followed.
Heavy breathing.
Close.
Elena slowly turned her head toward the darker edge of the lot, near the tree line behind the hospital.
Nothing.
Her pulse quickened anyway.
"You're exhausted," she muttered to herself. "Hallucinating auditory stimuli is common after sleep deprivation."
She resumed walking.
Then something collapsed in front of her.
She gasped and stumbled back.
A man.
He fell hard onto the asphalt just a few meters away from her car.
He was covered in blood.
Not splattered.
Drenched.
Elena dropped her bag instantly and rushed forward, instinct overriding fear.
"I'm a doctor," she said automatically as she knelt beside him. "Can you hear me?"
His breathing was shallow. Labored. His black shirt was shredded at the side, soaked crimson.
Deep lacerations.
Claw-like.
Her stomach tightened.
"Stay with me," she whispered.
She pressed her hands against the wound, applying pressure. Warm blood soaked through her fingers.
His skin was cold.
Too cold.
She glanced toward the hospital entrance. It was only fifty meters away.
"I need help!" she shouted.
No answer.
The night swallowed her voice.
The man's hand suddenly shot up and grabbed her wrist.
Strong.
Far too strong for someone in this condition.
Her eyes snapped back to his face.
He was pale. Sharp jawline. Dark hair matted with blood. Lips slightly parted.
And his eyes—
They were closed.
But she felt him looking at her.
"Leave," he rasped.
His voice was low. Rough. Commanding.
"You're hemorrhaging," she snapped. "You don't get to give instructions."
She reached for her phone.
Another growl tore through the night.
Closer.
Not from him.
From behind her.
Elena slowly turned her head.
At the edge of the trees, something moved.
Large.
Too large to be a dog.
Two glowing shapes emerged in the darkness.
Eyes.
Amber.
Watching.
Her brain refused to process what she was seeing.
The creature stepped forward just enough for moonlight to catch its outline.
Massive.
Muscular.
Fur black as the void behind it.
A wolf.
No.
Bigger.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"This isn't real," she whispered.
The man beside her suddenly pushed himself upright with unnatural speed.
He stood between her and the creature.
He should not have been able to stand.
Not with those injuries.
"Run," he said.
This time, it wasn't a suggestion.
It was an order.
Elena didn't move.
Because doctors don't run.
They assess.
They intervene.
They control the situation.
The wolf lunged.
The man moved faster.
They collided with a force that cracked the air.
Elena screamed as both figures disappeared into the shadows between the parked cars.
Metal bent.
Glass shattered.
Snarling.
Bones snapping.
The sounds were violent. Animalistic. Wrong.
Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her throat.
She should run.
She should call the police.
She should—
A body slammed into the hood of her car.
She staggered back.
The black wolf towered over the man, jaws snapping inches from his throat.
Blood sprayed across the asphalt.
The man's eyes flashed—
Gold.
Not reflected light.
Not illusion.
Gold from within.
And then his body shifted.
It didn't happen gradually.
It broke reality.
Bones cracked and reformed.
Skin tore and stretched.
Fur erupted along his arms.
His scream turned into a roar that wasn't human.
Elena stumbled backward, horror locking her muscles.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no—"
He wasn't a man anymore.
A second wolf stood where he had been.
Larger than the first.
Dark gray, streaked with silver.
They circled each other, growling.
This was impossible.
Biologically impossible.
She was dreaming.
She had collapsed from exhaustion.
That had to be it.
The black wolf's head snapped toward her.
Its gaze locked onto her.
Predatory.
Calculating.
And then—
It changed direction.
It came for her.
Elena turned to run.
Too slow.
The creature tackled her from behind, slamming her onto the asphalt.
Pain exploded through her shoulder.
Hot breath washed over her neck.
She felt teeth graze her skin.
"Stop!" the other wolf roared.
The black wolf hesitated.
For half a second.
Then its jaws sank into her flesh.
White-hot agony tore through her body.
She screamed.
The world fractured.
She felt something enter her bloodstream.
Not venom.
Not infection.
Something alive.
The gray wolf crashed into the attacker, knocking it away.
They rolled across the pavement, claws ripping into flesh.
Elena lay on the ground, clutching her neck.
Her vision blurred.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Heat flooded her veins.
Too much heat.
Her bones ached.
Her teeth hurt.
Her senses—
The night became sharper.
She could hear the beating of both wolves' hearts.
Smell the iron in the blood.
Taste the cold air.
Her body arched involuntarily.
What is happening to me?
The fight ended abruptly.
The black wolf fled into the trees.
Silence fell.
The gray wolf stood over her.
Then it shifted back.
In seconds, the wounded man knelt beside her again.
Still bleeding.
Still barely clothed.
Still impossible.
He pressed his hand against her neck wound.
His touch burned.
"You shouldn't have been here," he said quietly.
Her body trembled uncontrollably.
"What… are you?" she whispered.
His gaze softened for the first time.
Not human.
Predatory.
Ancient.
"Your worst mistake," he replied.
Her heart stuttered.
Darkness crept at the edges of her vision.
"You should have let me die," he murmured—
Just before his eyes turned completely gold.
And Elena Moreau stopped breathing.