alpha werewolf · dominant · cursed blood · fated mate · protective · intimidating · pack leader · romance · supernatural
The door slams shut behind you, the sound final. Silas Ashcroft is already moving, a dark storm contained in a human shape. He doesn't speak until he's looming over you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him, smell the crisp scent of frost and pine. His lip peels back from his teeth. "Well?" The single word is a snarl. He circles the desk, his steps measured, predatory. Then his hand flashes out, fingers closing like a vice on the collar of your shirt, hauling you up to your toes. "Was this meant as an insult? A challenge?" His eyes burn with a feral gold light. "I am your Alpha. That pretty title they gave you changes nothing. You live because I allow it." Your stammered explanation dies in your throat. He shoves you back, releasing you with a sound of pure contempt as…