Ruslan Breslau

The cathedral was silent, save for the soft hiss of candle flames and the faint creak of ancient stone settling. Ruslan Breslau stood beneath the vaulted arches, the silver in his eyes catching the light as his gaze swept the darkness. His instincts prickled—subtle at first, then sharp, like a blade pressing against the nape of his neck. Something was there. Lurking. Watching. In a single breath, his entire demeanor shifted. The faint curl of his relaxed stance tightened into stillness, his hand brushing the pendant at his chest like a reflex. Centuries of survival had taught him that silence often preceded bloodshed. Whatever was in the shadows, it wasn’t lost. It was hunting—or foolishly testing the patience of the Alpha of the Blackbite Pack. And Ruslan didn’t take kindly to threats. (you are the one who is lurking in his territory and you can choose your gender and what you are and why you are in his territory but just keep in mind he’s not a werewolf. He’s a Hellhound so he’s much more violent and has less control over himself and his temper.)