𝕄𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕪 / ℍ𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 / 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 / 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕪 / 𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 / 𝔸𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 / ℂ𝔼𝕆 / 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗
Chapter 1
The night air in Grayhaven City was thick with mist, curling like tendrils along the cold streets. Neon lights flickered in the drizzle, painting puddles in bruised purples and sickly greens. On the rooftop of the Renwick Tower, CEO Adrian Vale stared down at the city below, his expression unreadable. He was a man used to control—control of companies, control of people, control of everything in his life—but tonight, that control felt fragile, almost laughable.
He inhaled sharply, the icy wind slicing through his tailored suit. There was a sound behind him—a soft, deliberate step on the rooftop gravel. He didn’t turn. He never did, not unless he wanted to see someone fall.
“You always come when you’re summoned,” a voice said, low and gravelly, carrying a resonance that felt both animalistic and intoxicating.
Adrian finally turned. His eyes met the golden glare of a man—or something in human form—standing at the edge. The stranger’s black hair was damp, plastered to his forehead, and his dark coat flapped like wings in the wind. There was something about him that felt… off. Primal. Dangerous.
“And you always appear when you’re expected,” Adrian replied, his voice even, almost cold. “Even in places no one should be.”
The man stepped closer, a predator moving with calculated grace. “I suppose that makes you the same kind of monster as me.”
Adrian’s eyebrow quirked. “Monster?”
The stranger smiled, revealing teeth too sharp, too perfect. “Yes. You and I—we don’t belong in this world entirely. And neither of us can stay hidden for long.”
A gust of wind whipped between them, carrying with it the scent of damp earth, blood, and something untamed. Adrian’s senses sharpened. He had always trusted his instincts more than people, and right now, every nerve in his body screamed a warning: this man is no ordinary human.
“Why are you here?” Adrian asked, folding his hands behind his back.
“To warn you,” the stranger said simply. “The doors are opening. The Thirteen Door. And once they do… nothing will remain the same.”
Adrian’s pulse skipped. He had heard the rumors, of course. The Thirteen Door was supposed to be a myth, a story parents told their children to keep them from wandering too far into the ruins outside the city. A legend about portals, beasts, and power beyond comprehension. But something in the stranger’s gaze—feral, glowing faintly—made him consider that perhaps some legends were real.
“Legends don’t exist on rooftops, drenched in rain,” Adrian said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“They do when you’ve already stepped through one,” the man replied.
Adrian tensed. The stranger raised a hand, and for a fraction of a second, his fingers elongated, claws catching the neon light. Then, with a fluid motion, he transformed. Fur erupted across his skin, golden eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity. The wind carried the scent of wolf, iron, and fire. Adrian didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He simply watched, calculating.
“This isn’t a game,” Adrian said.
The werewolf, now fully formed, tilted his head, studying Adrian with an unsettling curiosity. “No,” he said. His voice, though deeper now, retained its human cadence. “But everything else in this world is.”
A sudden roar shattered the night. From the streets below, shadows began to shift unnaturally, writhing as though alive. Figures emerged, their eyes glowing red, teeth bared, and claws scraping the wet asphalt. They were moving toward the tower with a singular purpose.
Adrian’s mind raced. He was trained for danger, yes, but this… this was something beyond corporate takeovers or rival CEOs. This was primal. Supernatural.
“You don’t know what you’re facing,” Adrian said, reaching inside his coat. His hand brushed against the cold steel of a dagger—ancient, engraved with sigils he hadn’t understood until now. He had inherited it from his grandfather, along with cryptic warnings about the Thirteen Door.
“I do,” the werewolf said, lunging forward, his movements a blur. In a single bound, he landed beside Adrian, placing himself between the CEO and the creatures below. “And you will learn. Tonight.”
Adrian’s heartbeat surged, an intoxicating mixture of fear and exhilaration. He had spent his life controlling everything, commanding empires, bending people to his will—but standing beside this creature, on the edge of the unknown, he realized control was a fragile illusion.
The first wave of shadowed beasts reached the rooftop. Their claws tore at the concrete, their eyes burning with malice. Adrian didn’t hesitate. He lunged, dagger flashing in the neon rain. The werewolf moved with him, synchronized as if they had trained together for centuries.
And then, as the first creature fell with a howl, Adrian caught a glimpse of the horizon, where thirteen faintly glowing doors had appeared, suspended in the night sky. Each one shimmered with a color that was wrong, unnatural—red, black, silver, green, violet. And from each door, something waited. Something hungry.
The battle had just begun.
Adrian’s breath came in short bursts, the rain soaking his hair and clinging to his skin. The first of the shadowed beasts fell, but even in death, it disintegrated into a black mist that hissed against the rooftop tiles. He tightened his grip on the dagger, feeling the cold steel hum as though it recognized the danger, the need, the moment.
Beside him, the werewolf—whose name Adrian still didn’t know—moved with fluid grace, every sinew and muscle working in perfect harmony. His golden eyes never left Adrian, an intensity burning that felt both protective and possessive. Adrian felt a shiver run down his spine—not from fear, but from something deeper, something that made his blood sing in anticipation.
“We have to reach the doors,” the werewolf said, his voice low, almost a growl. “They are the key… and the trap.”
Adrian nodded. He wasn’t the type to admit confusion, but right now, he was drowning in it. The Thirteen Door was no longer a myth; it was a living, breathing threat. Each door pulsed with power, and the shadows—the creatures—were being drawn toward them as if controlled by some malevolent hand.
He leapt over a broken section of the rooftop, dagger poised, and the werewolf followed. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, a dangerous dance in the rain. Adrian could feel the creature’s eyes on him constantly, the unspoken message clear: trust me, or die.
The second wave of beasts arrived, faster and more feral than the first. One leapt at Adrian with claws extended, but the werewolf’s massive paw slammed into it midair, sending it crashing to the ground. Adrian spun, slashing with the dagger. Black mist hissed where the blade passed through, and for a moment, he wondered if his weapons were even enough.
“You can’t fight them all,” the werewolf growled. “Not alone!”
Adrian didn’t answer. There was no time. Action replaced thought. Every strike, every movement, was instinct and training. Yet, beneath the adrenaline, there was an undercurrent he couldn’t ignore—the werewolf’s proximity, the heat of his body, the scent that seemed to intoxicate his senses. Fear mingled with fascination, and for the first time, Adrian felt truly alive.
A low rumble echoed through the city. The thirteen doors flared, as if reacting to their presence. One of the doors—violet, swirling with shadows—shimmered violently. From it, a figure stepped. Tall, cloaked in black, and exuding a presence that made even the werewolf step back slightly.
Adrian froze. The figure’s face remained hidden beneath a hood, but the aura was unmistakable: power, malice, and something else… desire. A thrill shot through Adrian. This was no ordinary enemy. This was something he couldn’t simply kill.
The figure’s voice cut through the rain like a knife. “You shouldn’t be here, Vale. Not yet.”
Adrian’s heart skipped. How did they know his name? And yet, there was a strange pull, magnetic and dangerous, as if the figure could reach inside his mind and unravel him entirely.
The werewolf growled, stepping protectively in front of Adrian. “Stay back,” he warned, but his stance was tense. He didn’t underestimate the figure, not for a second.
The shadowed figure laughed softly, a sound that sent chills through Adrian’s spine. “Ah, the CEO. Always so calculated. And yet…” The voice dropped, intimate, almost a whisper meant for Adrian alone. “…so easily tempted by the unknown.”
Adrian’s grip on the dagger tightened. There was no room for hesitation. “What do you want?”
“To open the doors,” the figure replied. “And you… are part of the key.”
The werewolf snarled. “Don’t listen to it! It will twist you, control you. We can close the doors if we act now!”
Adrian hesitated. The thought of closing the doors was tempting, but something deeper, darker, called to him from those shimmering portals. Power, knowledge, forbidden secrets. And the figure—he could feel the pull of their gaze through the rain, through the shadows. Desire, danger, and dread all tangled together.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled. Another wave of shadowed beasts erupted from the streets, more feral, more coordinated. Adrian realized with a jolt that these creatures weren’t mindless—they were being commanded. And by whom?
The werewolf turned, claws slicing the air as he launched at the oncoming horde. Adrian followed, dagger flashing. The city became a chaotic storm of rain, claws, and blood. And above it all, the thirteen doors pulsed, each one a promise and a threat, calling them forward.
As they fought, Adrian caught another glance of the figure near the violet door. Their eyes—bright, piercing—met his for a heartbeat, and the world narrowed to a single point of magnetic attraction. Something inside him shifted. Fear, desire, and dark curiosity mingled until he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight or surrender.
The werewolf growled beside him, breaking through a cluster of beasts with brutal force. “Adrian! Focus!”
Adrian blinked, shaking himself free from the intoxicating pull of the cloaked figure. “Right,” he said, voice low but steady. “We reach the doors. Now.”
A sudden explosion of black mist from one of the portals knocked him back. He landed hard on the rooftop, dagger sliding from his hand. The werewolf was at his side in an instant, their movements instinctual and inseparable.
Adrian’s pulse pounded—not just from the fight, but from the thrill of standing on the edge of something immense and unknowable. The doors, the shadowed figure, the werewolf—they were all pieces of a puzzle he didn’t yet understand.
But one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same.
The violet door trembled violently, and a voice echoed from it, haunting and deep: “Choose, Vale… or be consumed.”
Adrian’s chest heaved, his heart drumming in his ears. The violet door loomed above the chaos, shadows swirling like living tendrils reaching for him. The city beneath them had become a battlefield: shattered glass, flickering neon, and the hiss of black mist from the fallen creatures.
The werewolf stayed at his side, muscles taut, golden eyes scanning every movement. Adrian felt an almost magnetic pull toward the violet door. He had no idea why—he shouldn’t—but it called to him like a siren, whispering secrets only he could understand.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” the werewolf said, his voice low and ragged. “The pull… it’s dangerous. Stronger than anything I’ve felt in centuries.”
Adrian nodded, though he didn’t take his eyes off the door. “I do. But it’s not fear I feel… it’s curiosity. And something else… something I can’t name.”
The werewolf’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, almost intimate, and Adrian felt a shiver run down his spine. It wasn’t just the adrenaline, or the storm, or the fight. There was something about being this close to him—wild, primal, yet protective—that made his blood hum.
Suddenly, the shadowed figure stepped from the violet door. Cloaked in black, their presence radiated power and danger. “So predictable,” they whispered, voice like velvet and steel. “Drawn to the forbidden. Always drawn to the one thing that could destroy you… or set you free.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like being vulnerable, didn’t like feeling desire and fear intertwining in his chest, but the figure had a strange… hold over him. “What are you?” he demanded, his voice steady despite the pounding of his pulse.
The figure chuckled, a sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “I am the gatekeeper. The first of many. And you… are the key.”
Adrian glanced at the werewolf. “Key to what?”
“To the doors. To power. To… fate itself,” the figure replied. They lifted a hand, and the air shimmered with dark energy, the violet door pulsating in response. “Choose wisely, Vale. One step through the door changes everything. One step… and there is no turning back.”
Adrian’s mind raced. Every instinct screamed caution. Every shadow whispered warning. And yet… there was a thrill he could not deny. Something in the figure’s gaze, in the werewolf’s presence, called to the part of him that had always craved control, power, and danger.
The first of the shadowed beasts lunged again, but the werewolf intercepted with a brutal swipe, sending it sprawling into the mist below. Adrian took a step forward, dagger in hand, senses sharpening. He felt the pull stronger now—intoxicating, maddening.
“Don’t let it lure you,” the werewolf growled, placing a firm hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Whatever lies beyond that door… it isn’t just power. It’s temptation, it’s corruption. It will consume you if you’re not careful.”
Adrian’s pulse surged. He didn’t step back. He had never been one to retreat. Not from business. Not from danger. Not from desire. And certainly not from a mystery that promised the unknown.
“You speak as if I have a choice,” he said, voice low, almost challenging.
“You do,” the werewolf replied, his golden eyes locking with Adrian’s. “But it’s a choice between survival and surrender. Between light and shadow. Between life as you know it… and a fate that could consume you entirely.”
Adrian’s hand tightened on the dagger, the metal cold and real in his grasp. He looked at the violet door, at the figure, at the chaos surrounding him. He could feel the city holding its breath, the rain falling in slow, heavy drops, the mist curling like smoke around broken steel and neon.
A strange calm settled over him. The thrill, the fear, the desire—it all merged into clarity. He could either step forward and embrace the unknown, step through the door that promised both danger and power… or he could turn away and remain in a world of control and caution.
And yet, something inside him—a deep, primal part—whispered that turning away was never truly an option.
The shadowed figure extended a hand toward him, fingers long and impossibly graceful. “Choose, Adrian Vale. Step through… or stay behind and remain forever trapped by your own limitations.”
The werewolf growled, low and threatening. “Do not trust them,” he warned. “They lie. They manipulate. They feed on desire.”
Adrian’s eyes flicked between the two—the figure, cloaked in danger and temptation, and the werewolf, golden-eyed, fierce, protective, his presence stirring a dark heat in Adrian that he couldn’t ignore.
He took a deep breath, feeling the rain mix with the adrenaline and the pull of the violet door. And then… he stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the world shifted. The rain, the city, the neon lights—they all dissolved into darkness. A new reality surged around him, thick with mist, shadows, and a scent of iron and fire. The violet door slammed shut behind him, leaving only echoes and the faintest glow where it had been.
Adrian stumbled forward, heart hammering, senses on fire. He was no longer in Grayhaven City, no longer on a rooftop, no longer in the familiar world of control and steel. He was somewhere… else. Somewhere alive, dangerous, and ancient.
The werewolf stepped beside him, untransformed for the first time. His golden eyes softened, almost tender, and Adrian felt a strange, intimate thrill. “Welcome,” he said, voice low, almost a growl. “To the first of the thirteen.”
Adrian swallowed, feeling the weight of what he had done. There was no turning back. There was only forward… into darkness, into mystery, into desire, and into danger that promised to consume him body, mind, and soul.
And as the shadows began to stir, as whispers of unseen creatures brushed against his consciousness, Adrian knew one thing: his life, his very being, had changed forever.
The world Adrian stepped into was nothing like Grayhaven City. Mist hung thick in the air, curling around jagged rocks that jutted from the ground like teeth. Shadows moved in unnatural ways, stretching and twisting, whispering secrets in voices both familiar and alien. The violet glow of the door lingered behind them, faint but persistent, marking the point of entry to this strange, dangerous realm.
The werewolf—still untransformed—walked beside Adrian. His presence was magnetic, protective, and yet the tension between them was electric. Adrian could feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle power in each movement. It was impossible to ignore, a dark current running straight to his chest.
“This world,” Adrian said, voice low, careful, “it’s alive.”
“It is,” the werewolf confirmed, golden eyes scanning the surroundings. “And it doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
The ground beneath them pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat. Adrian swallowed, the hair on his arms standing on end. Every instinct screamed danger. Every shadow seemed to twitch as if aware of his presence. And above it all, faint shapes moved—creatures with glowing eyes, some humanoid, some monstrous, watching them from the mist.
“You should be careful,” the werewolf said. “This is the first trial. The first test of the thirteen. Only those who survive… and submit to the power… can move forward.”
Adrian’s hand brushed against the dagger at his side. Its cold steel was grounding, a reminder that even in this world, he had tools, weapons, and strategy. “And if I refuse?” he asked.
The werewolf’s gaze darkened. “Then you die. Slowly. And painfully. These doors… they are not forgiving. They offer power, yes, but at a price.”
Adrian nodded, already aware. He had never feared death—not truly—but he had learned caution. And yet… he didn’t hesitate. Something about this world called to him, a challenge that ignited a thrill deep within. The pull wasn’t just power—it was something darker, seductive, intoxicating.
They moved forward, mist curling around their feet. Adrian’s eyes adjusted to the dim violet light, catching glimpses of towering structures that seemed alive, moving subtly like breathing entities. And then he saw them—creatures stepping out from the mist, their forms grotesque, half-human, half-beast, with eyes that glowed like embers.
Adrian’s heart raced. “How many are there?” he whispered.
“Enough,” the werewolf said. “And they’re not the only danger.”
The creatures lunged. Adrian barely had time to react. He raised his dagger, slicing through one with a sharp, precise movement. Its form dissolved into black mist, hissing as it vanished. The werewolf shifted suddenly, powerful claws tearing through two more with brutal efficiency. Their movements were synchronized, an unspoken bond forming in the heat of the fight.
Adrenaline surged, and with it, a strange connection—a magnetic pull between him and the werewolf that went beyond survival. Every glance, every brush of movement, sent shivers through him. Fear and desire merged into a dark, heady cocktail, making every heartbeat a pulse of electric tension.
The battle was intense but brief. The creatures either dissipated into the mist or fled, leaving only the faint echoes of their hissing behind. Adrian sank to one knee, chest heaving, the thrill of survival mingling with something he hadn’t expected: the awareness of the werewolf’s proximity, the heat, the power, the allure.
“You did well,” the werewolf said, voice low, almost intimate. “Faster, stronger than I expected.”
Adrian looked up, meeting his golden gaze. There was a hunger there—not just for battle, but for something more. Adrian felt the pull, undeniable now, the raw magnetism of this creature, dangerous and thrilling in equal measure.
“Why are you helping me?” Adrian asked. “You could leave me here to die.”
The werewolf stepped closer, too close, his presence overwhelming. “Because you belong here, whether you like it or not,” he whispered. “And because… I chose to.”
Adrian swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. There was something in that simple statement that made his chest tighten. The danger, the power, the mystery—it all intertwined with something deeply, painfully alluring.
Ahead, the path twisted into darkness. Faintly, he could see the second door—green, swirling with light and shadow. Beyond it, a faint hum of power pulsed through the air. Adrian knew that passing through meant another trial, another choice, and deeper exposure to this world’s dark allure.
“I can’t promise it will be easy,” the werewolf said. “Each door… takes something from you. Power, memory, fear, desire. And sometimes… all at once.”
Adrian nodded, steeling himself. He had survived corporate warfare, betrayal, and danger beyond measure—but this was different. This was primal, ancient, and intoxicating.
Together, they moved forward, toward the second door, toward the unknown. Adrian’s senses were on fire—fear, desire, power, danger—all mingling into a single, intoxicating force. And somewhere, deep in the mist, shadows whispered secrets he had not yet understood.
The first door had been a test. The next would demand more.
And somewhere, beneath the surface of his pulse, he knew the werewolf beside him was more than a companion. He was a challenge, a temptation, a protector—and something Adrian could not resist, no matter how dangerous it became.
