Luca & Bella

Posted Bella her replies with permission of the writer.

Luca:

The woods stretched out endlessly before him, a sanctuary of dark trunks and moonlight-dappled undergrowth. Luca's paws hit the forest floor with quiet precision, the soft crunch of leaves and pine needles the only sound accompanying his steady pace. In his wolf form, the world was sharper—every scent, every sound, every flicker of movement alive and electric.

He ran for the joy of it, the wind tugging through his black fur and the cool night air filling his lungs. The frustrations of the city, the tension that seemed to cling to his human skin, melted away with every stride. Out here, he was free—just a creature of the wild, unburdened by the complications of RavenBlack or the weight of his hybrid nature.

The distant rush of water reached his ears, drawing him toward it. Slowing to a trot, he emerged into a clearing where moonlight spilled onto a small, shimmering waterhole fed by a cascading waterfall. The sound of the water was soothing, rhythmic, a gentle melody against the quiet hum of the woods.

Luca padded to the water's edge, his amber eyes reflecting the silvery ripples as he leaned down for a drink. The cool water was a relief, trickling down his throat and grounding him in the simplicity of the moment.

He raised his head, droplets clinging to his muzzle, and watched the waterfall with quiet intensity. For now, there were no predators, no hunters, no city to navigate. Just the woods, the water, and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.

This was his balance—his escape. And for now, it was enough.

Bella

Bella's tanned skin glowed faintly under the fractured light of the moon as her feet carried her deeper into the woods. Her dark brown hair, loose and slightly tangled, caught on the occasional branch, as if the forest itself sought to hold her in its embrace. The silvery light reflected in her dazzling crystal blue eyes, which darted across the landscape, taking in every shifting shadow and glimmering dew drop.

The night air wrapped around her like a cool blanket, each breath carrying the earthy scent of moss and fallen leaves. Her fingers brushed the rough bark of an ancient tree, grounding her as she wandered. She moved with a quiet grace, her steps muffled against the forest floor, as though she belonged to this world of shadow and starlight.

A familiar sound reached her ears—the whisper of rushing water. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she turned toward it, her heartbeat quickening in anticipation. The river that carved through these woods had long been a companion to her wandering nights. She had traced its meandering path many times, committing each curve and cascade to memory. The trail grew steeper, the ground uneven beneath her bare feet, but she moved with confidence, knowing exactly where it would lead.

Stepping into a clearing, she paused to take in the sight that always stole her breath: moonlight spilling like liquid silver onto a small, shimmering waterhole fed by a tumbling waterfall. The place was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat, yet it never lost its magic.

Climbing the rocks beside the waterfall, Bella found her usual perch near the top. She sank onto the smooth surface and pulled her legs tightly to her chest, wrapping her coat around herself to ward off the cool night air. Her tanned arms encircled her knees, and her dark brown hair spilled over her shoulders, glinting faintly under the moonlight. She stared down at the cascade, the rhythmic roar soothing the restless energy within her.

Her crystal blue eyes caught movement below. A wolf stood at the waterhole, its fur gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Its head dipped low as it drank from the pool, its powerful frame at ease yet exuding an aura of wildness. Bella's breath caught as the wolf lifted its head and turned to look toward the waterfall, its eyes scanning the cascade.

Luca:

Luca froze mid-step, his paws sinking slightly into the damp earth near the water's edge. His golden-amber eyes locked onto the figure standing on the rocks of the waterfall.

A woman.

Her tanned skin seemed to absorb the moonlight, glowing faintly as it filtered through the branches above. Her crystal-blue eyes were calm, and reflective as they rested on the waterhole. She didn't move, her presence as quiet and steady as the woods themselves.

Luca's ears flicked, catching no sign of aggression in her. No sudden movements, no sharp intake of breath, no shift in posture that suggested she was aware of him. And yet, something in her stillness unsettled him.

He padded a few cautious steps closer to the water, his head low, the soft crunch of leaves beneath his paws barely audible over the rhythmic rush of the waterfall. His black fur rippled slightly in the cool night breeze, and his muscles remained taut, ready to spring away if needed.

His gaze flicked back to her. She didn't flinch, didn't waver. She seemed so at ease with the forest and its quiet, as if this moment was as natural to her as breathing. Luca, by contrast, felt the weariness of his journey pressing into his bones, the weight of days spent running from the chaos of the city and himself.

He hesitated, lowering his muzzle to the water's surface. The coolness of the drink steadied him, grounding him in the simplicity of the moment. When he looked up again, she was still there, as unmoving and calm as before.

Luca's golden eyes narrowed slightly, flickering with quiet curiosity. She wasn't afraid of the woods, the waterhole, or even of the predator watching her from the shadows.

With a faint huff through his nose, Luca stepped back slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, his instincts coiled tight but unsure. For now, he would watch, waiting to see if she made the first move, unwilling to break the fragile balance of the moment.

The waterfall hummed softly in the background, filling the space between them with its steady rhythm, as the wolf and the woman lingered in the moonlit clearing.

Bella:

Her gaze remained soft, gentle, as she watched the wolf. She could sense its presence, its tension, but it didn't frighten her. No predator, no creature of the wild, ever did. She could handle herself and her cursed touch ensured that no one—be it man or beast—would ever dare harm her. Still, she held herself, knowing that sometimes the best way to encounter the wild was through quiet observation.

Blue eyes darted skyward for a moment, catching a glimpse of the stars, as she inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs. There was a deep peace in the night, in the rustling of leaves and the soft murmuring of the waterfall. A constant rhythm that calmed the restlessness that more ofter than not bubbled within her this past year.

She let her chin rest on her knee, eyes returning to the wolf below. He was cautious, but not aggressive—more in the way a creature who had known hardship might approach the unknown.

With a soft exhale, Bella tilted her head slightly, studying the creature with quiet curiosity. The wolf's golden-amber eyes met hers for a moment, and she didn't flinch. Instead, she offered a gentle, silent acknowledgment of his presence.

She had long since accepted that her touch was lethal—that anything living that came into contact with her skin would meet an untimely end. It had been a curse since her birth, something that had shaped her interactions with the world. But in this moment, under the cover of the moonlit sky, she felt nothing but the comforting embrace of nature, a reminder that some things—like the wolf in front of her—could be understood without touch. She was no threat to him, just as he was no threat to her.

The moments stretched out in silence, the wolf lowering his muzzle to drink from the water, and Bella, content, watching in return, her heart calm and steady like the rhythm of the waterfall beside them.

Luca:

Luca stood motionless, his golden eyes fixed on the woman on the rocks. The waterfall's constant murmur filled the silence between them, masking the sound of his steady breaths. She hadn't moved—her calm presence blending into the forest as though she belonged there. And yet, Luca remained wary.

His instincts coiled, urging him to retreat, but the wolf in him hesitated. She wasn't like the others he'd crossed paths with—no threat lingered in her posture, no tension bristled under her stillness.

Slowly, cautiously, he stepped back from the waterhole, his black fur rippling faintly under the cool night breeze. He turned once, then twice, circling a patch of soft ground near the water's edge before easing himself down onto his belly. His head rested on his paws, but his eyes stayed on her—watching, waiting.

The tension in his shoulders began to melt as the quiet of the clearing settled over him. The steady rush of the waterfall blended with the rustle of leaves, the occasional chirp of some distant creature, and the soft rhythm of his own heartbeat.

The woman remained still, her crystal-blue eyes calm, reflecting the moonlight like the water itself. She hadn't come closer, and neither had he. The distance between them was unspoken, a silent agreement.

For the first time in days, Luca allowed himself to breathe deeply. His tail curled lightly over his hind legs, and his muscles relaxed beneath the stillness.

He didn't trust her—not yet—but her presence didn't demand trust. It simply was.

So he watched, amber eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight, the wolf in him content for now to share the clearing, the stillness, and the quiet hum of the night with the stranger who lingered just far enough away.

Bella:

The brunette's thoughts began to drift, as they often did when she was alone in the forest, surrounded by the quiet hum of nature. She wondered about the wolf. Was he just passing through, or did he have a den nearby? She knew a few werewolves lived in cabins not far from here—only a few minutes' walk away. Maybe he was a supernatural, like herself. But even as she wondered, the thought of home brought a quiet sadness, a familiar ache that tugged at her heart.

The sadness deepened, pressing down, until it felt like someone had wrapped their fingers around her chest, squeezing tight. Her vision blurred as her eyes stung, and before she could stop it, a tear slipped down her cheek. Bella blinked, trying to clear the haze in her eyes, but the quiet ache remained. The wolf below, once so clear, now appeared only as a blurry shape.

She couldn't remember the last time she had allowed herself to cry. Perhaps she had always kept her emotions hidden behind her calm exterior. But here, it felt safe to let the emotions wash over her.

But then, a sharp intake of breath broke the stillness. Her own breath, unsteady and caught in her chest, made her realize what had just happened. Bella quickly wiped at her cheeks, trying to stem the flow of tears. Her hand lingered, gentle, as if trying to reassure herself. The stillness returned, but the tears remained, silent and uncontrollable.

"I'm sorry," She said, her voice soft, barely a whisper, lips tugging to a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes as she apologised to the wolf for her sudden break down, not knowing and perhaps not caring if he understood.

Luca:

Luca's ears flicked at the faint sound—soft, almost drowned out by the steady hum of the waterfall. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, shifting their focus to the woman. She still stood near the rocks by the water, but now her posture was different. Her head was tilted downward, shoulders faintly hunched, as though the weight of something unseen pressed against her chest.

Then he saw it—her hand brushing her face.

She was crying.

The realization made Luca's chest tighten, his wolf instincts torn between caution and something else—sympathy. He pushed himself up slowly, his paws pressing into the damp earth as he stood, his movements quiet but deliberate. He wasn't sure what he meant to do. The woman hadn't moved toward him, hadn't acknowledged him much, and yet her silent grief tugged at him in a way he couldn't explain.

Luca took a cautious step forward, his amber eyes still watching her intently. A soft huff escaped his nose—a sound that was neither a growl nor a warning, but something closer to a question.

Luca remained still, his amber eyes soft but wary as he watched her. The sound of her quiet crying, almost lost beneath the steady rush of the waterfall, made something stir deep inside him—an ache he couldn't quite place.

Then, her voice broke through the night, so soft it might have been carried away by the breeze.

"I'm Sorry" she whispered, her voice soft, barely a whisper, lips tugging to a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes as she apologised to the wolf for her sudden breakdown, not knowing and perhaps not caring if he understood

Luca's ears perked, his head tilting just slightly as if to better catch the words. She still didn't look at him, her gaze cast down toward the water that glistened under the moonlight. The apology made his chest tighten further, though he didn't understand why. What did she have to be sorry for?

With a low exhale through his nose, Luca rose to his paws, taking a slow, cautious step forward. He didn't approach too closely—he didn't want to startle her, didn't want to intrude. Instead, he lowered himself back to the ground, curling his dark frame into a more relaxed shape, a silent reassurance that he meant no harm.

The wolf in him wanted to close the distance, to offer warmth or some sense of comfort, but instinct held him back. He understood grief. He understood loneliness. And sometimes, there were no words to fix it.

So he stayed—watching, waiting. The soft glow of his golden eyes lingered on her, steady but gentle, as if to say, It's okay. You don't have to apologize.

The waterfall continued its endless song, a soothing backdrop to the stillness between them. For now, that was enough.

Bella:

She hadn't noticed the wolf move, her focus turned inward as she fought to calm herself. The tears that threatened to fall seemed determined to escape, leaving streaks of sadness in their wake. She exhaled shakily, her fingers brushing away the trails they left behind as if she could erase the emotions clinging to her.Her head shook lightly, almost imperceptibly, as though chastising herself. Apologizing to a wolf? The thought crossed her mind, absurd but strangely comforting. She didn't care if he was just an ordinary wolf or a supernatural being.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly, her voice barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the trees. "I disturbed your peace." Her words carried a mixture of sadness and sincerity. She tilted her head, her eyes—now clear—finding the wolf again. He was resting now, his body relaxed but his golden-amber eyes still watchful.

"I know it's silly," she continued, a faint, humorless smile tugging at her lips. "Talking to a wolf who probably doesn't understand a word I'm saying... but thank you. Your presence... it makes me feel less alone." Her voice faltered at the last word, her breath catching as the weight in her chest threatened to rise again.

From an outsider's perspective, she had it all. A beautiful home, a devoted husband, and her precious daughter. Bella projected love, happiness, and stability outward as if her life were unshakable. But inside? She felt as though she were crumbling, the cracks in her facade threatening to widen each day. For so long, she had carried the burden silently, afraid to let the world see her struggles. Yet here she was, confessing her loneliness to a creature who could not judge her.

"Thank you," *she whispered again, her gaze softening as she took in the wolf's form. He was truly beautiful, his dark fur rippling faintly under the moonlight. For a fleeting moment, Bella wondered what it might feel like to run her fingers through his fur, to feel the warmth of another be

ing, unfiltered by the barriers she had always worn.*

Her mother's necklace rested coolly against her skin, the small pendant tucked safely beneath her coat. It had dampened her curse, allowing fleeting moments of contact, like a fragile bandaid over a wound that never fully healed. But the necklace came with its own cost, one she couldn't always afford to pay. She sighed softly, the thought of touch—so simple, yet so distant—slipping away like mist through her fingers.

Luca:

Luca's ears twitched at her whispered apology, the faint sound carrying across the clearing. Her words, barely louder than the rustle of the wind through the trees, stirred something deep within him—a pang of understanding he couldn't quite place. She thought she'd disturbed his peace, but her sadness hung in the air like the mist of the waterfall, unspoken yet undeniable.

He shifted slightly, the soft rustle of his fur against the damp earth breaking the stillness. His golden-amber eyes stayed fixed on her, calm but watchful. The way she fought to brush her tears away, her quiet voice faltering under the weight of her own emotions, made something in his chest tighten. She was carrying more than just weariness; she was carrying silence, the kind that claws its way into the soul when there's no one to share the burden.

Her words of thanks came next, trembling yet sincere, and Luca let out a low, quiet huff. Not a growl, not annoyance—something softer. Something that, if she were listening closely, might sound like reassurance. He didn't move closer, not yet, but he let his head rise from his paws, his posture shifting just enough to let her know he was listening.

She thought he was just a wolf, perhaps even some wild animal who couldn't comprehend the weight of her sadness. And yet, her voice carried no expectation, no demand—only quiet gratitude. It wasn't pity she sought; it was presence.

Her crystal-blue eyes met his for a fleeting moment, and in them, Luca saw a kind of reflection—an ache that felt familiar, even if her story was one he didn't know. She talked about feeling less alone, and he stayed still, his instincts warring with the desire to do something and the knowledge that sometimes, just being there was enough.

He exhaled softly, his breath stirring the cool night air. The sound was quiet but deliberate, a subtle acknowledgment of her words. His muscles, still coiled with caution moments ago, began to relax as he laid his head back down on his paws, though his eyes never left her.

She was speaking to a wolf, apologizing to a creature she believed couldn't understand. But Luca understood far more than she realized. The loneliness in her voice echoed in his own chest, a reminder of his own solitude and the many times he'd wished for someone to simply be there.

The waterfall hummed behind them, its steady rhythm blending with the quiet between her words. Luca didn't know her story, but he didn't need to. He could feel the weight she carried, and though he couldn't offer words or touch, his presence was something he could give.

For a brief moment, he considered moving closer, bridging the distance between them. But he stayed where he was, respecting the space she seemed to need. She wasn't afraid of him, and he didn't want to shatter the fragile balance between them.

Instead, he kept his golden gaze on her, steady and unyielding, as if to say, You're not alone.

And in that quiet clearing, bathed in moonlight and the endless hum of the waterfall, Luca remained. A silent guardian, offering what little comfort he could to a woman unburdening her soul to a creature she thought couldn't understand.

But he understood. More than she could ever know.

Bella:

A hint of a wistful smile graced Bella's lips as her gaze lingered on the wolf, their eyes meeting in a quiet exchange. He watched her as steadily as she watched him, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. Then, her gaze lifted to the stars, scattered like shards of light across the endless night sky.

The vastness of the universe humbled her, a reminder of just how small she truly was in its grand design, yet, it also brought comfort. Everyone had their struggles and burdens and pain. She reminded herself that even in the face of those hardships, she had the power to shape her life. She accepted her emotions, however raw, however overwhelming. She should make the most of what she has.

Her eyes flicked over her shoulder, drawn to the faint outline of the hidden trail leading back home. Her heart swelled at the thought of her family. Love radiated through her at the image of her daughter's laughter and the warmth in Ryder's steady gaze. But the joy that bloomed in her chest was quickly followed by a familiar tightness, like invisible hands pressing against her ribs.

The most important things in life were the connections you made—the ones you held onto, nurtured, and protected. She believed that wholeheartedly, but what if she failed? What if she wasn't enough? Her daughter deserved a mother who could shield her from the world's cruelty, who could guide her with warmth and wisdom and unconditional love. And Ryder? He deserved a wife who wasn't consumed by the weight of her own self-doubt, a partner who could stand beside him without faltering.

*The brunette closed her eyes briefly, willing the suffocating feelings to pass. When she opened them again, the wolf was still there, his steady presence grounding her in the moment. Perhaps she could learn from the wild creature before her—to live in the simplicity of now, to let the complexities of tomorrow come when they would. She breathed deeply, letting the cool night air fill her lungs. She'll try, for t

hem, she'll try.*

And with a final glance and a gentle wave to the wolf, she lowered herself from the rock's surface until her feet touched the steady ground and followed that path back home.

Luca :

Luca watched her intently, his golden-amber eyes never leaving her face as she tilted her head toward the stars. The lines of tension in her shoulders softened, and though she didn't speak for a long moment, he could almost feel the shift in her thoughts. There was something fragile about her—like she carried the weight of the world but hadn't yet found the words to share it.

She seemed so small against the vast night sky, her frame illuminated by the moonlight and softened by the glow of the clearing. Yet, as his gaze lingered on her, Luca didn't see weakness. He saw someone trying, someone fighting battles he couldn't begin to understand.

He stayed still, not wanting to shatter whatever moment she was having. He knew what it was like to carry too much in silence, to retreat to the wilderness in search of clarity. The sight of her now, so raw and vulnerable, tugged at something deep inside him—a part of himself he rarely allowed to surface.

When her hand brushed the necklace beneath her coat, his ears flicked, catching the subtle shift of fabric. Whatever thoughts plagued her, they were heavy, and he could see it in the faint furrow of her brow and the way her chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths.

As her gaze flicked back to him, Luca held it steady. He didn't move, didn't make a sound, but his amber eyes softened ever so slightly. She whispered something—too faint for his wolf ears to catch—and lifted her hand in a small wave.

The gesture caught him off guard. Humans rarely saw him as anything other than a predator or a threat, but she… she was different. She wasn't afraid. If anything, she seemed grateful for his presence, even if she didn't understand why he lingered.

As she rose from the rock and turned toward the path, Luca's body tensed briefly, the instinct to follow flaring for just a moment before he quelled it. He remained where he was, his dark fur blending into the shadows, his eyes tracking her as she moved away.

When her figure disappeared into the trees, Luca let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling in time with the rhythmic hum of the waterfall. He turned his gaze back to the water's edge, the stillness of the clearing settling over him again.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't feel entirely alone. He didn't know her name, her story, or why she carried so much sorrow. But for a fleeting moment, they had shared something—a quiet understanding in the moonlit woods.

Luca lowered his head to his paws, his golden eyes watching the trail she'd taken until it was fully swallowed by the forest.

Then, with a slow exhale, he closed his eyes, letting the steady rush of the waterfall lull him into a calm he hadn't felt in a long time.