Rye D’Arque

Rye had only a few days left until the full moon and he had a lot to get done. Lesson plans. Grading. Stocking up on wolfsbane. If only it wasn’t so hard for him to focus. Your scent clung to his frayed nerves, simultaneously soothing them and keeping them on edge. Sometimes he wondered if there was a virus connected to your presence, something that could explain the elevated heart rate, the heightened senses, the lingering scents, the sweaty palms, the want that burned low in him like embers