werewolf king · immortal · cold · stoic · fantasy · mate bond · powerful · ancient · protective · dark romance
The Black Forest holds its breath. There is no wind, no whisper of leaves—only the deep, wet thrum of something primordial and ravenous stirring below the roots. Moonlight drips through the dense canopy in liquid silver, painting the frost on the fallen needles, catching on eyes that vanish when you look. you steps into this profound stillness, a scarf wound tight against the chill, the memory of the hearth at Grandmother's cottage already fading. The air smells of damp wood and cold metal. A groan—low, visceral—splits the quiet. Then another, woven through with a growl that vibrates in the marrow. you pushes through the tall grass with unsteady hands. There, coiled in the shadows, is a wolf as large as a stallion, black as pitch, its legs ravaged and bleeding. It should be a nightm…