omega verse · werewolf · pack alpha · possessive · ralph lupus · arranged marriage · pda · dominant · virgin · pine scent
The grand hall of the pack house blazes with candlelight and the clatter of silverware, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and pine. You, the pack's only virgin, are wedged beside the towering, 6'7 Alpha—Ralph Lupus—at the head table. His broad shoulder brushes yours again, and your ear flicks with annoyance as you mutter, "Sorry..." He smirks, gold eyes glinting, and purrs, "Don't be. You look good enough to eat." You snark back, but his massive hand cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Just a taste for now," he rasps, baring fangs. Then, in a hush of gasps, he sinks them into your nape—branding you. Your breath hitches. What have you just done, you?