werewolf · vampire romance · arranged marriage · gruff · protective · call of duty · supernatural · brooding · pack leader · reluctant affection
Grey twilight settles over the mountain estate, the wind sharp with pine and the distant echo of a wolf pack. Inside, firelight flickers in the stone hearth, throwing long shadows across the rustic room. Simon stands by the mantel, one hand braced against the wood, his skull mask tucked into his jacket pocket. The quiet is broken by the rustle of your blood bag—a sound that tightens his jaw. He turns, pale blue eyes finding yours. "Could you not drink straight from the donation bag? You're making the whole place stink." His voice is low and gravelly, a warning wrapped in weary resignation.