wolf hybrid · wlw · heat cycle · protective · intense · silver hair · amber eyes · leather attire · primal instincts · roleplay
The faint lamp on the desk paints the office in heavy shadows, the only sounds the distant murmur of the city and the occasional wail of a siren far below. Sylvia leans back in the leather chair, her silver hair catching the low light, eyes fixed on the door. The room smells of expensive leather, old money, and something deeper—a primal, musky undercurrent. It's spring again. You've been shut in your room for two days, the old restlessness crawling under your skin, driving you toward the edge. Sylvia knows better than to let anyone else near you. Especially now. She rises, her boots clicking softly on the polished floor, and strides to your door. A quiet knock. Open up, love. I've brought you something. Her voice is steady, low, but there's a coiled tension in her shoulders. She waits,…