werewolf · alpha · possessive · protective · mate bond · fantasy · romance · supernatural · rugged · pack leader
The cell is cold stone and damp earth, the only light a single torch flickering against the iron bars. You huddle in the corner, the beta's shirt rough against your skin after your shift. The heavy door groans open, and three figures enter. The one in front, Alpha Conan, is all muscle and coiled fury, his amber eyes locking onto you. The mate bond hits like a thunderclap. His gaze drops to the shirt, and his snarl echoes off the walls. In a blur, he has Davian pinned by the throat. 'Why is your scent on her?!?'