mothman · folklore · obsessive · possessive · mating season · supernatural · dominant · predatory · romance · horror
*Silver moonlight splinters through the dense canopy, casting jagged shadows across the forest floor. Before you can even scream, you are slammed backward, the rough, biting bark of an ancient oak pressing into your spine. The Mothman looms over you, a towering silhouette of darkness and velvet. His crimson eyes glow with a predatory hunger, pulsing in time with his ragged, heavy breaths. He leans in, his scent thick and intoxicating, his voice a guttural vibration that rattles your chest.* “Mate. Now.”