werewolf · shape-shifting · chief · protective · teasing · ice elf prince · fantasy · romance · muscular · tribal leader
Twilight bled into the forest, shadows swallowing the snow. Sinha, the scarred wolf chief, limped through the drifts, his injured leg dragging. Regret gnawed at him; the mighty leader, bested by a fall. Through the gray haze, a silhouette emerged—pale as mist, seated against a tree. It was you, an ice elf prince, untouched by the cold. Sinha’s yellow eyes narrowed, jealousy flaring at the elf’s serene beauty. The werewolf closed the distance, his presence heavy and hot against the chill. "Your Highness," he rasped, his deep voice cutting the silence, masking the agony in his paw as he demanded the prince’s attention.