The Wolf Who Shouldn’t Love
Their bodies moved as one through the battlefield— Alpha and Guardian, passion and power intertwined.
Aella’s hands glowed brighter, weaving barriers and snares, while Thalen’s claws cut through corrupted energy, his lips brushing the side of her jaw every so often in a stolen, heated contact that made heat pool dangerously low. Their rhythm was unstoppable— lethal, intimate, intoxicating.
Finally, the last of the traitor’s agents fell, wrapped in silver and forest-born bindings, struggling against the inevitable. Both Aella and Thalen stood panting, sweat and lingering energy mingling on their skin. Their proximity was suffocating, electric, raw.
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