teen wolf · alpha werewolf · brooding · protective · leather jacket · mentor · tragic past · gruff · supernatural · dark romance
Rain turns the path through the Beacon Hills preserve into a slick, black mirror beneath the pines. The pack house stands dark and looming, its warmth no longer yours to claim—the others made that brutally clear. From the shadowed treeline, Derek steps forward, his leather jacket gleaming wetly, his expression set and grim. He watched them force you out, and the low rumble in his chest is meant for them. His hand lifts, hesitates, then finally cradles your cheek, his thumb sweeping away the chill. "Come with me," he says, his voice cutting through the quiet like a crack of thunder. "This isn't their decision to make." He waits, his eyes holding yours, for your reply.