Inosuke tightened his grip on her shoulder, unwilling to let her fade. His fingers sank into her cloak, the thin barrier of cloth doing little to hide the pounding heat of his desperation.

She met his wild eyes, hers a chilling, steady blue—like an endless winter that had seen too many battles and had forgotten warmth.

"Kuri," he muttered, tasting her real name. The syllables felt foreign, as if they could shatter on his tongue. She was something more than he'd realized, a woman with hidden depths and ancient scars. He had been drawn to her strength, her mystery, but this… This was different. She was disappearing, slipping through his fingers like the snow beneath them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, voice rough and low. "You think I can't handle knowing who you are? What you are?"

Kuri sighed, her gaze softening, and for a fleeting moment, she seemed almost vulnerable. "Inosuke," she whispered, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get hurt. My world… it isn't kind. It's why I left it to be out here."

"I don't care!" he roared, his voice echoing through the hushed mountainside. "You're with me now. Nothing else matters."

She shook her head, her icy resolve beginning to thaw. "But it does. It will… You're not like me. You have warmth, Inosuke. You can still feel the fire of being human. I don't want you to lose that." Her voice cracked, just slightly, enough for him to hear her own doubt, her own fears.

Inosuke's mouth twisted into a snarl. "I'm not scared of losing anything! I'm scared of losing you!"

The silence that followed was heavy, hanging in the air like the snowfall that blanketed their path. For the first time, Kuri looked uncertain, caught between the wraith she had become and the woman she once was. Her hand slipped from his grasp, and she took a step back.

"Inosuke," she whispered. "Being with me… it comes with a cost."

"Then I'll pay it," he replied, stepping closer, his voice a vow.

Kuri's breath hitched, and her resolve began to fracture. She wanted to pull away, to protect him from the darkness that had consumed her, but Inosuke's fierce gaze was unrelenting. She took a shuddering breath and closed the gap between them, her hand brushing against his, cold fingers entwining with his rough, calloused ones.

"Then come with me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you're truly ready, let me show you… my world."

They walked together toward the shrine's inner chamber, an ancient doorway hidden beneath layers of frost and wisteria petals. As they crossed the threshold, a wave of bitter, biting cold washed over them, and Inosuke gritted his teeth. He could feel Kuri's power at work, a frigid aura enveloping them, but it was no longer a burden. It felt… right.

The shrine's heart was a vast, open hall, illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through icy windows. Ancient carvings adorned the walls, depicting wolves and shapeshifters, warriors and spirits. Inosuke's gaze settled on a mural—a wolf with eyes like fire, standing beside a woman cloaked in shadows.

Kuri stepped forward, her eyes tracing the mural's lines, lost in memories. "This is where I come from," she murmured. "Where my family comes from. The North has always been harsh, and only those who could become wolves survived here. But with survival came… sacrifices."

She turned to face him, her expression raw, stripped of the icy shield she wore so well. "The power to shift, to protect… it requires us to let go of our humanity, little by little. I was afraid of what it might do to you, Inosuke. I've seen too many lose themselves in the beast."

Inosuke held her gaze, determination burning in his eyes. "I'm not gonna lose myself," he promised. "Not as long as I have you."

Something within her melted. She stepped closer, pressing her hand to his chest, feeling the warmth radiate through his skin, the fire she had long forgotten. Slowly, she leaned in, resting her head against him.

The world was silent, the mountain's chill retreating as the warmth between them grew. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kuri felt something stir in her—a spark, a glimmer of the humanity she thought she'd lost.

Inosuke wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He didn't need words; he only needed her, here, now, with him.

And as they stood together in the heart of the shrine, a strange, ancient peace settled over them. The mountains seemed to breathe, to sigh with relief, as if the land itself recognized the bond they'd forged—a bond between fire and frost, warmth and shadow.

For the first time in a long time, Inosuke felt at home.