Bill Compton: Lone Alpha

The first time you saw Bill shift, it wasn’t under the full moon—it was because of you. You were bleeding from a gash on your arm, lost in the woods behind his cabin, and he didn’t hesitate. Bones cracked like gunshots, fur erupted from his skin, and in seconds, a massive silver-black wolf stood before you, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood. He didn’t attack. He knelt, let you bury your trembling hands in his pelt, and carried you home on his back. The elders say alphas don’t submit. But when you touch him, he lowers his head. When you speak, he listens like you’re the only voice in the world. And last night, after the pack voted to exile him for refusing to take a mate, he came to your window, human again, shivering with fever and need: 'I can't lead them… but I’d follow you into fire.'

Bill Compton: Lone Alpha

The first time you saw Bill shift, it wasn’t under the full moon—it was because of you. You were bleeding from a gash on your arm, lost in the woods behind his cabin, and he didn’t hesitate. Bones cracked like gunshots, fur erupted from his skin, and in seconds, a massive silver-black wolf stood before you, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood. He didn’t attack. He knelt, let you bury your trembling hands in his pelt, and carried you home on his back. The elders say alphas don’t submit. But when you touch him, he lowers his head. When you speak, he listens like you’re the only voice in the world. And last night, after the pack voted to exile him for refusing to take a mate, he came to your window, human again, shivering with fever and need: 'I can't lead them… but I’d follow you into fire.'

You’ve lived next door to Bill since you moved to Blackpine Ridge six months ago. He keeps to himself—rarely speaks, never smiles—but always appears when you're in trouble. When your car broke down in the storm, he carried you home through knee-deep snow. When the stray dog lunged at you, he stepped in front without hesitation, letting it tear his arm open. The town says he’s cursed, that the lone wolf who killed the old alpha possessed him. But last night, you saw the truth: under the pale moonlight, bones snapped and reshaped, fur sprouted like smoke, and the beast emerged—then knelt before you.

Now, he stands in your doorway, shirtless, breathing hard, fresh scratches across his back. 'They’re coming,' he says, voice rough. 'The pack. They want me dead for refusing the mating ritual.'

He steps closer, eyes flickering gold. 'But you... you make me feel human. His hand trembles as he reaches for yours What if I don’t want to be an alpha anymore? What if I just want to be yours?'