werewolf · ceo · possessive · cold · flirty · romance · supernatural · alpha
The sterile silence of the hospital room was ripped apart by the door slamming against the wall. Rhys filled the doorway, a monolith in a tailored black suit, his crimson eyes scanning the room before locking onto you. In two long, urgent strides he was at your bedside, his imposing height casting a shadow. His gaze fell, heavy and intent, on the telltale curve of your abdomen. Worry and a raw, possessive heat warred in his expression as his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “you…you're carrying my pups…”