Billionaire werewolf

The beginning

Nothing much had ever happened in Moonlit Creek, a little town whose streets lined up with small tuck shops and cafes that were much more famous than any other place in the world. People trooped in from all around the world just to experience the locals and their freshly brewed coffee.

Damon wasn't your ordinary billionaire. At thirty, he was not only the successful owner of Wolfhart Industries but a public figure that almost everyone wanted to be associated with.

Because he made public appearances very rarely, the media and people constantly made up endless rumors. "He is a strange man," the headlines often hinted.

These whispers only grew louder the moment he decided to reside in a quiet mansion on Silvercliff Hill, a large estate whose shadows almost covered half of the town.

Elara Woods had never given much thought to Damon. The town librarian preferred her world of books to the complexities of people. She lived a quiet, predictable life, surrounded by the scent of brown, old paper and fainted ink. That was up until the library roof began leaking during a surprise summer storm.

“Elara, you’re really going up there?” Nora, her best friend, raised an eyebrow over her latte.

Elara scoffed, shoving repair estimates into her scuffed leather satchel. "What other option do I have? The library budget's tighter than grandma's corset. All anyone ever says is that Damon likes helping the town."

Nora hissed, "Rumor has it that he killed his first wife. I do not know how true that is.”.

Elara rolled her eyes but didn’t laugh. She had heard stranger rumors. “I don’t have time for your horror stories, Nora. If he can fund the repairs, I’ll be in and out before he has a chance to do anything funny”

The air grew heavier as the two friends walked up the winding path toward the Wolfhart mansion, which stood like a dark figure against the evening sky. Its tall iron gates creaked open, as if inviting them in.

"See? Even the gates are creepy," Nora muttered. "I'll wait here, just in case you, I don't know, disappear into thin air."

Elara looked at her and did not say a word. She went to the wooden door and knocked. The door had some cobwebs. It looked like no one had been there in decades.

The huge, heavy door creaked open, revealing no one else than Damon Wolfhart.

“Elara Woods,” the voice was smooth, like velvet, but it sent a shiver down her spine. In an instant, it turned magnetic, pulling her in. His sharp blue eyes locked onto hers, intense enough to make her heart skip, like a stone dropping into still water, ripples spreading fast. She couldn’t look away, trapped in the heat of the moment.

“Uh. hi,” she stammered. “I mean, hello, Mr. Wolfhart. I’m here about—”

“The library roof,” he jumped in with a smile on his face, giving her no time to explain herself. “Come in.”

The mansion was as intimidating as it was outside. The grand foyer was dark, with high ceilings and shining chandeliers. Portraits of wolves hung on the walls, their golden eyes glowing in the flickering light.

“This way” Damon said, his voice courteous yet firm, as he led her to a cozy yet grand study that smelled of leather and cedarwood-the kind of room that seemed to guard secrets older than time.

As Damon poured tea from a fragile china set, fear got the better of Elara. Lying on his desk was some weird book, its cover filled with strange, intricate symbols that glowed faintly under the flickering light. She reached out for the edge of the book, attempting to open it and see what it was.

In the twinkle of an eye, a howl echoed through the mansion. It was low and mournful. It made her a little uncomfortable. She had heard nothing like it.

Elara yanked her hand back as her heart went racing. Damon seemed unconcerned, placing the tea tray down with a smirk on his face.

"Wolves," he hinted, noticing her wide eyes.

"Wolves?" she echoed, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"They are family, in a way," he said, so casual yet his tone deep with something unspoken. "Beautiful creatures. Loyal. Fierce.

Curds of saliva had started to form in her mouth. She swallowed it hard and nodded hysterically, like a dog who was being trained not to bark, but everything in her screamed to turn and run. Yet she stayed. His voice, his presence-there was something about him that made her feel safe, yet insecure.

Sensing that she was scared, he changed the topic to the library roof.

Just as Elara was about leaving work two months ago, a huge thunderstorm hit the city, taking off some parts of the library roof.

“Would one million dollars be enough to fix it?”

“Yes…more than enough sir.”

He had assured her that, by morning, the money would be wired before she left the mansion. She should have felt relieved, yet an unsettling energy was still clinging to her as she made her way down the hill. The wolves howled again, echoing their cries.

Nora met her at the gate, looking warily at her. "You were gone for a long while. I was almost worried you had lost your way”

Elara smiled sheepishly, but her mind raced. "He's. generous. Weird, but generous."

As they began walking back to town, Elara kept looking back at her shoulder. There was more to him; to the mansion.

Deep down, she knew this was only just a beginning. Damon Wolfhart wasn't just generous. He wasn't just odd. He was hiding something. Sooner or later, she had to find out what exactly it was.