Moonlit Enchantment

Chapter Three

Dmitri, clad only in the aftermath of his transformation, moved cautiously toward the cottage. One arm stretched awkwardly across his chest, the other trying desperately to shield what little modesty he had left. The chill of the night air pricked at his skin, and despite the warmth that still lingered from his wolf form, he felt exposed in a way that went beyond flesh. Every snap of a twig underfoot, every rustle of leaves, made his pulse quicken—not from fear of the pursuers anymore, but from the absurdity of his situation.

He hesitated for a moment before raising a fist to knock on the weathered wooden door. The sound echoed softly in the stillness, louder than he expected. His breath caught in his throat. Great, now you’re that guy—the naked lunatic knocking on someone’s door at midnight.

Inside the cottage, Sabrina stirred from a light sleep. The unexpected noise pulled her to the door, where she peeked through the peephole. There, standing illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, was a man. Shirtless. Hair tousled like he’d wrestled with a storm. Hands awkwardly trying to cover himself. His eyes caught hers through the glass—a mixture of apology and sheepish humor.

“Can I help you?” she called softly, trying to keep the surprise from her voice.

Dmitri cracked a short laugh. “I promise this isn’t something I normally do.”

The ridiculousness of it all hit him again. Naked in the woods, chased by some unknown threat, and now asking shelter from a stranger. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity — but the weight of exhaustion and lingering adrenaline held it back.

Sabrina slowly opened the door just enough to reveal her silhouette framed by the warm glow of the cottage’s interior. “I’m guessing you need more than just a kind word, then?”

Before he could answer, a flick of her wrist summoned a simple but cozy sweater and a pair of black pants onto his frame. The fabric settled softly over his skin, an instant shield against the night’s chill—and his own embarrassment.

Dmitri blinked, looked down at the sudden attire, then back at Sabrina with a crooked grin. “You’re a witch?”

The question slipped out before he could stop it, and immediately his wolf stirred uneasily inside him, the primal warning echoing sharp and clear.

We can’t trust her.

Centuries of conflict between witches and werewolves echoed in his mind, claws scratching at the edge of his reason. Yet here she was — clothing him, not cursing him. That counted for something.

He didn’t lower his guard, but he stepped inside.

Sabrina arched an amused brow. “You know, ‘thank you for clothing my naked ass’ is an acceptable response.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah… sorry. It’s been a long night.”

The warmth of the cottage wrapped around him like a balm after the cold chase. The faint scent of herbs, burning wood, and something faintly floral settled in the air. Soft lamplight cast golden hues on shelves lined with dried flowers, polished stones, and arcane books, all whispering of a world far stranger than his own.

He took a slow breath, trying to steady the flutter of tension coiling in his chest.

Then, a sudden sting along his forearm made him flinch. Glancing down, he spotted a shallow cut hidden beneath the sleeve.

Sabrina’s eyes immediately narrowed in concern. “You’re hurt.”

He hesitated, brushing it off. “Probably nothing.”

But she moved closer with calm confidence, voice gentle but firm. “Let me see.”

Dmitri’s wolf growled low, a warning buried beneath the human skin.

Don’t trust her touch.

Yet despite the instinctual mistrust, he allowed her to inspect the wound. Her fingers were light, almost delicate, as she traced the thin gash.

The room seemed to hold its breath.

“You should let me help,” Sabrina said softly.

He met her gaze, the raw vulnerability of his predicament shining through the wary exterior. “Thanks… I don’t usually show up naked on strangers’ doorsteps. Definitely a first.”

Sabrina smiled, the warmth genuine. “Well, you’re lucky I’m not just a stranger.”

The flicker of trust sparked between them, fragile but real. For the first time that night, Dmitri felt the weight of his wolf’s growls ease, if only slightly.