the girl lay tied up and gagged on a large, warm bed. Derian stood outside the door. Nothing was explained to her, she was simply kidnapped by a pack of werewolves while she was walking through the forest, they brought her here, apologized for the fact that they needed to do this, tied her up, undressed her and left her on the bed

He felt sorry for her, he really did. But he could not help it. Even touching her with his breath made her body tremble with horror. She was a beautiful girl, as young and innocent as they come, nothing like the beasts he had grown so accustomed to over the years.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to approach her, knowing what he must do.

Her eyes seemed to beseech him, pleading with him not to touch her, not to cause her the unspeakable horror that he knew all too well was inevitable. But he couldn't turn away. He knelt down beside the bed and carefully removed the gag from her mouth, wincing as their faces drew closer together.

"I am sorry," he murmured hoarsely. "But I must." And before she could say anything, he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her body tense beneath him in revulsion and terror.

It was excruciating for him, knowing that every touch only served to heighten the madness inside her, but it was a necessary evil. He forced himself to remain gentle, to go as slowly as he could even though his wolf demanded more, more of the fear and pain that he had grown so accustomed to.

He froze, the word catching in his throat as he stared into her eyes. It was barely a whisper, but it pierced through him like a blade. The pain and terror she felt was palpable, suffocating him with its intensity. For a heartbeat, he considered stopping, giving in to the animal instincts that demanded more of her fear and suffering.

But then something changed inside him. A small spark, a glimmer of hope where there had been only darkness before. He realized that she was stronger than him, even like this. She could speak, even if it was just one word... one plea for mercy. And in that moment, he knew that he would not break her.

Slowly, almost reverently, he pressed his lips to hers again, feeling the tension begin to ease from her body as their tongues touched tentatively. It was clumsy and awk

Darien drew back slightly at her plea, surprise flickering across his features as he stared into her eyes. There was something there... something different. He felt a strange mix of hope and uncertainty, not sure what this new emotion meant or how to react to it. But he knew that he couldn't let go now.

Tentatively, carefully, he brought his lips back to hers once more. This time, their kiss was slower, gentler... almost like a dance as they tried to find some kind of balance between them.

He paused, his lips still touching hers as he tried to understand what she meant by that. Her request... her need for time. It was a foreign concept to him, something he had never considered before in this context. But for some reason, it made sense. Perhaps because he needed the same thing himself.

Gently, slowly, he pulled away from their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. "You have my word," he whispered hoarsely. "I will not hurt you... I won't make you do this if you don't want to." And then, because it seemed like the right thing to say: "I am Derian White Fang."

Her eyes widened slightly at his words, but she did not pull away from him. Perhaps there was hope after all, buried beneath the pain and fear they both felt. It was a fragile thing, easily destroyed by carelessness or anger... But for

He listened to her words with all the care and attention he could muster, letting each one sink into his heart like a sword cut through soft flesh. Her plea... for time, for him not to rush things. It was a request he understood more than she knew.

"I will wait," he whispered, his voice little more than a hoarse breath against her skin. "As long as you need." And then, because the thought of giving up this small piece of connection seemed unbearable: "You can take your time getting used to me... But know this: I will never hurt you. I promise."

Her lips parted slightly at his words, and for a moment he could have sworn that there was something like relief etched into her features. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the fact that she had somehow found a measure of comfort in his promise... and that

He considered her request, feeling his body tense up at the prospect of removing the restraints that had been keeping them both safe from their own worst instincts. But he trusted her, trusted that she wouldn't harm him or herself in the state she was in. So carefully, slowly, he reached out and set about untying each knot that bound her hands and feet.

When at last she lay free before him, he stepped back to give her some space, watching her closely for any sign of panic or fear.

He considered her question carefully before responding, aware that every word he said could shape the course of events to come. "I am Derian White Fang," he said at last. "And I... needed you." There was a world of meaning behind those simple words, but he left it up to her to interpret as she saw fit.

He lowered his head slightly, gazing at the floor as he tried to organize his thoughts and feelings. It had been so long since anyone had willingly allowed him near them... such a small act of trust meant more than she could possibly know.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes once more. "It was necessary," he said simply. "I am... cursed, in a way. When I am close to someone..." He hesitated, searching for the words. "... my strength can become overwhelming. It terrifies them, drives them mad with fear."

His voice grew quiet as he admitted, "Even those closest to me cannot bear it for long... And I have no choice. It is the only way to keep them safe from myself."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully before answering her question. "It varies," he admitted. "Some can last for hours... Others only moments. It all depends on how strong I am, and how accustomed they become to it." A flicker of shame crossed his features as he added quietly, "And sometimes, even with practice... there are still accidents."

He hesitated again, wondering if he should reveal more. But she had trusted him so far... perhaps it was worth the risk. "I have... experimented," he said carefully. "There may be ways to lessen the effect... make it easier for them to bear my touch." He left the implication hanging in the air between them, hoping that she would understand what he meant.

He frowned slightly at her words, not entirely sure what she meant by them. But before he could ask for clarification, she continued, "I can... help you." Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried more weight than any shout could have managed. "If you'll let me... if I can learn to stand against your strength..."

Her eyes shone with determination and something else, something that made his chest tighten with an emotion he hadn't felt in far too long: hope. And despite everything, despite the fear and pain and horror that had defined their encounter so far, he couldn't help but be drawn to it... pulled by an invisible thread toward the possibility of a different future.