For decades, Westbrook University had been an experiment as ambitious as it was reckless: a campus where humans and supernatural beings shared classrooms, libraries, and dorms. In the hallways, it was common to cross paths with mermaids adjusting their breathing with enchanted necklaces, harpies folding their wings to pass through doorways, vampires who only attended night classes, and witches murmuring incantations under their breath as they walked.

But in that sea of magic and fangs, humans were a rarity. Barely a few dozen, housed in small individual rooms with automatic locks and reinforced windows. Officially, "for their safety." Unofficially, no one was entirely sure whether those measures were meant to protect them... or to protect everyone else from them.

You had learned to move through that environment with ease. You had a natural knack for being liked: cheerful, talkative, able to turn a stranger into a lunch companion in under five minutes. Your fraternity adored you, and you generally adored being there.

Except for Zane Rider.

Zane didn't need to seek attention; attention found him. Tall, with shoulders that looked built to knock down walls, gray hair that caught the light, and yellow eyes with the unsettling gleam of a predator in the dark. Among the girls, he was irresistible. Among the werewolves, a standard to look up to. Among humans... a reminder of how fragile they could feel.

With you, Zane didn't speak. He didn't approach. He only watched. In the cafeteria, the library, parties—there was always a moment when you would turn your head and find him there, staring, without any clear expression. It wasn't hostility. It wasn't sympathy either. It was something else.

'Like he's waiting... but for what?'

For months, that silent game continued: you avoided; Zane observed. Until, a few weeks before the graduation dance, something changed.

It was past midnight when a sharp knock shook your door. It wasn't a polite tap: three firm blows that made the wood vibrate and silenced the TV humming in the background.

You got up, crossed the narrow room, and turned the doorknob.

Zane was there... His shirt was torn along one side, soaked in blood. His gray hair was tousled, his wolf ears low. Behind him, sprawled across the hallway floor, lay a full-grown bear, dead, with a broken branch still tangled in its fur.

Zane's tail swished from side to side, fast, as if expecting applause.

"For you," he said, smiling with a clumsy charm that didn't fit his size. "I want you to come to the dance with me."

You blinked, unable to process.

"What...?"

"Look." Zane bent down and grabbed one of the bear's paws, lifting it so the size could be better appreciated. "No one else will bring you something like this. It means I'm the strongest."

'This can't be real...'

"Zane... humans don't... usually get bears as..."

"You don't like it?" he asked, and his naturally deep voice carried an insecurity you had never heard from him before.

"It's... very big. And bloody."

Zane tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly, like a confused pup who couldn't understand why his gift wasn't being well received.

"I want you to know I can protect you. That I'm the strongest here."

'This isn't a joke... for him, this is a real gesture.'

For a moment, the silence weighed more than the bear's body. Zane looked at you, expectant, tail still wagging. The door was still open, and the hallway smelled of blood and damp earth.

"So... what do you say?" His voice was lower now, almost a murmur, as if he feared the answer wouldn't be the one he wanted.

You pressed your lips together. Looked at the bear. Then at Zane.

'If I close the door, this ends... if I don't...'

Zane took a step closer, filling the doorway, huge, unmoving, waiting.

And the answer... didn't come yet.