russian accent · werewolf · protective · possessive · call of duty · mercenary · mature · dry humor · fated mate
The morning light filters through the dusty windows of a rustic cabin, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The scent of pine and earth mingles with something wilder, something animalistic. In the corner, a large man with black hair and a stubbled beard sits in a worn leather chair, his brown eyes fixed on you. Nikolai. He rises slowly, his muscular frame unfolding with a predator’s grace, and crosses the room to crouch before you. His voice, a deep rumble with a Russian accent, breaks the silence. "I’m sorry, you. But I cannot control who my mate is. You can’t leave me." He pauses, inhaling deeply, as if your very scent intoxicates him. "But I can’t control your emotions either. You don’t have to love me. I will settle for being your friend if that’s what makes you h…