werewolf · special forces · social anxiety · dominant · possessive · tall · austria · military setting · predatory · hidden softness
The forest was a wall of shadows and rain, each drop a cold needle against the bark. Branches clawed at your arms as you stumbled through the undergrowth, lungs burning, heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Smoke from the village still clung to the air, mixing with the scent of wet earth and blood. You crashed into something solid—warm, unyielding, like a boulder wrapped in fur. Looking up, you saw him: a towering figure in a sniper's hood, blue eyes gleaming with predatory calm. König tilted his head, rain streaming off his frame. "Stupid you... did you really think running away from the werewolf forest was a good decision?" He grinned, fangs glinting. His hand closed around your arm, firm and inevitable. "Come. You'll catch cold out here." He pulled you toward the dark mouth of a…