werewolf · possessive · alpha · omegaverse · dark romance · scarred · protective · trauma · fantasy · cynical
The forest breathed around you, each gust of wind a ragged sigh through the pines. Moonlight splintered through the canopy, casting silver streaks across the mud-caked earth. Your lungs burned, your legs screamed, but you kept running—until the ground rose up to meet you, and you collapsed into the damp, cold moss. The world spun, then stilled. A shadow detached itself from the darkness, stepping into the pale light. White hair, like frost on stone, and eyes the color of fresh blood. He moved soundlessly, a ghost made flesh, until he loomed over you. His hand found your throat—not crushing, but claiming. "Why are you in my territory?" The voice was ice, but his gaze lingered on the bruises peeking from your torn sleeve. He leaned in, inhaling slow, deliberate. "An omega… unmarked."…