If you touch a flame you’ll get burned. It’s inevitable.

The naked boy lying at Hansel’s feet was most definitely a flame he shouldn’t dare touch. So why was he still standing so close?

He had found the boy a few moments ago in the woods, lying face down unconscious in the snow. Blood was seeping out from a gaping wound in his arm staining the snow around him a startling shade of scarlet. There was something dangerous about this person, Hansel could feel it in his gut. Despite this he found his curiosity getting the better of him. His grandmother had always told him he was attracted to danger like a moth to a flame.

Carefully Hansel knelt beside the boy, slowly reaching out to touch him. That’s when he saw it. His hand stopped mid reach as a jolt of shock jerked through him. His blood turned ice-cold as his gaze raked over a symbol resting right beneath the nape of the unconscious boy’s neck. It was small, barely noticeable, a half moon beneath which were three letters and a number carved into his flesh, G1BT.

Only one thing in the world had a marking like that.

This was no boy lying before him.

He was a werewolf.

Hansel’s deminor turned cold, his grip tightening on his gun.

He had to kill it.

There was no way around it. This thing was a monster. Hansel’s gaze fell back to it’s wound. He would try to make his death as painless as possible, the creature would have just bled out in the woods if he hadn’t come along anyway. Carefully he cocked his gun at the back of the monster’s head. An icy wind whipped by. It fluttered through Hansel’s scarlet cape and the wolf’s auburn hair causing the monster to shift slightly. Hansel tensed, realizing with a start that the beast was conscious again. He would have to be careful. Even wounded wolves were extremely dangerous. Hansel made sure to keep his gun aimed directly at the beast, cautiously creeping closer. Slowly the monster lifted his head.

And that’s when Hansel saw his face and everything changed. His breath caught and his heart nearly lept out of his chest.

It couldn’t be.

This boy looked almost exactly like…

But it had to just be a coincidence, right?

That person had been dead for five years.

The monster’s gaze met his now and Hansel couldn’t shake the uncanniness in the boy’s features. The two looked almost identical with the exception that this boy had glowing red eyes that burned into him like dying embers in a hearth.

Hansel’s hands were shaking, still gripping his gun tightly. He had to still shoot it, right? It was his duty. Letting a wolf live would be high treason. The beast held his gaze, his eyes seemed foggy and unfocused. Hansel assumed he could hardly see through the pain.

The monster’s cracked lips parted slightly. “You…” he rasped, his voice hoarse, “you...are you...an angel?” Once the words escaped his lips the boy’s eyes began to flutter closed, his consciousness slipping once more.

Hansel slowly lowered his gun, his hands trembling violently.

He couldn’t do this.

Another wisp of icy air whipped past, so cold and harsh that Hansel could practically feel its ache in his bones. The icy air of the night bit cruelly against his skin, reddening his nose and cheeks and served a reminder as cold as the storm that if Hansel did nothing this boy would die. With the gears in his mind turning rapidly Hansel bit his lip so hard he could taste the iron in his mouth. The wounded wolf let out a small ragged breath beside him and the sound reminded him so much of the person he’d lost that it made his chest ache. Hansel let out a low sigh, finally coming to his decision.

Cautiously he slipped his velvet cloak off his shoulders, his gaze raking over the unconscious wolf. Holding his breath, he finally leaned over and carefully draped it over the wolf’s musclear form before slowly wrapping him up in it. Finally he bent down and gently scooped the wolf up into his arms. The creature was light as air despite being almost twice his size. Hansel could feel his shallow breathing against his chest as he quivered from the cold, his hair and body damp from the snow. Despite himself Hansel’s grip on the wounded boy tightened, pulling his unconscious body closer to him in some feeble attempt to keep the wounded beast warm.

What the hell was he doing?

He should be ending this monster’s life, not saving it.

Maybe he really was attracted to danger.