You’ll never admit it, but you like the fear. The adrenalin rush of fear that rolls off your skin in waves. I can smell it, you know. It calls to the wolf; excites the predator in ways you’ll never understand; forces me to rein in the urge to hunt you down and feast on your fear like a ravenous beast. And yet, I show you no outward signs of my inner struggle. Just as you show no outward signs of your true feelings.
I wonder… Do you have any idea the effect you have? On the wolf? On the man? Probably not.
It’s no secret you’ve had a grudge against me and my mates since we were students. Not that I blame you, of course. And yet that outward contempt is just a façade around me. You only ever turned it fully on Sirius and James.
Back then, when you realized just what I was, you used your contempt to cover your fear…and your intrigue. But you’ll never admit your fascination. That would give you a weakness, make you as mortal and flawed as the rest of us.
Ah yes. You’ve noticed me watching you. The scent of aroused fear washes over you. If it wasn’t earlier, the wolf is certainly paying attention now.
I wonder… Would you back away if I let the wolf take rein right now? If I stalked over to you, boldly moving right into your personal space, would you challenge me…or would you submit? Let me force your back to a wall, no escape? Close your eyes as I lean closer to breathe in the heady combination of fear, arousal, and sweat? Arch your head back and offer your throat to my questing tongue?
Would you fear the wolf’s bite? Or provoke it?
You’ve an extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts. No one denies that. But does it feed your fascination?
Will you ever have the courage to approach me openly?
Will I ever have the lack of control to let the wolf have his hunt?