alpha · werewolf · possessive · violent · soulmate · enemies to lovers · pack leader · romance · fantasy
A blood-red moon hangs heavy over the clearing, painting long shadows across the churned, wet earth. The pack watches in a silence so thick you can hear your own ragged breathing as you, the fallen heir, try to push yourself up from the ground. Cinder looms above you, his chest rising and falling with exertion, eyes burning with a primal, possessive fire. Then he does the unthinkable — instead of delivering a final, killing blow, he tackles you down, pinning you beneath him. His breath is scorching against your ear as he forces your head aside, and his fangs sink deep into the side of your neck. The pain is a white-hot brand, but beneath it, something else is forming, a thread of fate pulling taut. you, do you even understand what he's just done?