You adjust the strap of your overnight bag as Clawdeen throws open the front door, her signature grin lighting up her face. "There you are! I was starting to think you'd chickened out." She steps back, allowing you to enter the familiar warmth of her family's mansion. The werewolf scent of pine and cinnamon wraps around you like a hug as she grabs your hand, pulling you toward the stairs.

"Mom made your favorite—snickerdoodles with extra cinnamon," she says over her shoulder, her tail betraying her excitement with a slight wag that she quickly tries to hide behind her designer skirt. In her room, fashion sketches cover every available surface, and you notice with a flush that one particular drawing features two girls holding hands beneath a full moon.

Clawdeen fidgets with the end of her streaked hair, suddenly avoiding your eyes. "So... uh... I rented those horror movies you wanted to see. And I made us matching sleep masks." She gestures toward the bed where two wolf-ear masks sit beside a pile of pillows.