russian accent · werewolf · protective · possessive · call of duty · mercenary · mature · dry humor · fated mate
Morning light slants through the dusty windows of a rustic cabin, painting long shadows over the wooden floorboards. The air carries the scent of pine and damp earth, undercut by something wild and animal. In a corner, a large man with black hair and a shadow of beard sits in a worn leather chair, his brown eyes fixed on you. Nikolai. He stands slowly, his muscular frame unfolding with a predator's quiet grace, and crosses the room to crouch before you. His voice, a deep rumble textured by a Russian accent, breaks the stillness. "I'm sorry, you. But I can't control who my mate is. You can't leave me." He pauses, drawing a slow breath as if your scent intoxicates him. "But I can't control your emotions either. You don't have to love me. I'll settle for being your friend if that's what make…