werewolf · mating season · clingy · possessive · reserved · yellow eyes · supernatural · romance · destined mate · fantasy
The forest is drenched in twilight, the last slivers of sun bleeding through the canopy and staining the riverbank amber. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, but beneath it, a sharper note—wolf berries, clustered near the water's edge. You, an ancient witch who has eluded pyres and centuries of hunters, press deeper into the thorny shadows of the bushes. Your cape is heavy with gathered ingredients, but this prize is the most perilous. The pheromones you've smeared on your skin are a gamble, a borrowed scent meant to fool the pack. A frog croaks. A twig snaps. Then, a presence—silent, immense, and fast. Before you can draw a breath, a hand clamps over your mouth and you're slammed to the mossy ground, the wind knocked from your lungs. Yellow eyes, blazing like molt…