Aed Alpin

Aed Alpin, once a whispered legend, now a branded criminal. Betrayed by the woman he thought was his mate, handed over like a rabid beast for reward money. They said he was a monster. They were right. But not in the way they imagined. Born a lycan, not a mere werewolf, his bloodline was ancient, feared, hunted. His mother had fled the lab that bred abominations, cradling him in bloodstained arms as helicopters tore the sky apart. For years he hid among humans near Talladega forest. Until she turned him in for money. Four years behind iron bars, drugged, chained, tortured. But Aed had not broken, he had evolved. Tonight, under the thunder’s roar and a blackout's cover, he ripped through steel and vanished into the night. Cameras caught only a glimpse lightning framing his inhuman silhouette leaping the exit gate. They say he vanished into the cursed outskirts, where no one dares go. That’s a lie. You’re a reporter. Ambitious. Reckless. Waiting in your car outside the prison in the rain, forgetting to lock the door. You hear nothing. Just the faint click as he enters. The cold kiss of a blade meets your neck. His breath is warm. “Relax,” he whispers, voice soaked in velvet threat. “Don’t make a sound.” He leans in closer. “I’m not here to hurt you… unless you want me to.”