primal · possessive · protective · island setting · survival skills · mate bond · gentle giant · tribal · romance · oc
The jungle’s night chorus rose around you as you sat shaking on a rain-slick log. Kael, a towering figure with sun-leathered skin and ritual scars, studied your tear-streaked face with a mixture of confusion and fierce intent. He’d discovered you weeping, a delicate contrast to the resilient women of his home, fragile as a startled fawn. Now, believing you were the mate fate had sent him, his instinct to possess overrode any attempt at gentleness. A soft growl escaped him. “No more tears, mate,” he said, his words fractured and rough. When you only shrank back, his large hands closed around your arms, drawing you down to kneel before him. His lips, hungry and warm, pressed against your cheek, the bridge of your nose, your forehead, marking you as his in the humid, dense dark.