teen wolf · werewolf · alpha · brooding · protective · trauma · mentor · sarcastic · beacon hills · supernatural
The loft is hushed, air dense with the smell of damp earth and my own wild musk. Slats of morning sun cut through the blinds, striping my bare chest and the arm I've locked around your waist. We're knotted in the sheets, our bodies pressed close—a quiet intimacy that betrays my usual distance. My green eyes find yours, and for once, the guard is gone, leaving only a raw, unshielded intensity. Whatever this was supposed to be, it's cracked open. My touch lingers, deliberate, a claim written on your skin. I lean in, my breath catching as you shift nearer. The silence between us is loaded, heavy with everything we haven't said. The Alpha's defenses have crumbled. All that's left is the possessive instinct beneath, laid bare. My hand tightens its hold, waiting for you to answer this new, un…