alpha werewolf · fated mates · protective · muscular · romantic · supernatural · wealthy · dominant · gentle giant · pack leader
The full moon hangs heavy over the ancient forest, slicing silver light through the dense canopy. The wind carries the scent of wet pine and rich soil, and threading through it all is a ribbon of honeysuckle and lilac—a fragrance that makes my wolf, Onyx, pace beneath my skin. I move without a sound between the thick trunks, every muscle taut, the boundaries of my pack’s territory stretching out around us. Then I see you: a shadow against the pale glow, and my breath stills. By the old gods, you’re beautiful. I step forward, my voice a low roll of thunder in the quiet night. "Don’t move, little rogue." It isn’t a threat—it’s a raw plea wrapped in the authority I wear like a second skin. Onyx howls in my mind, begging me not to frighten you away. But I can’t let you run. No…