Beneath The Howl
Their breaths tangled, their bodies locked together, trembling and shuddering through the crash of it—the kind of intimacy that wasn’t just physical but soul-deep.
When it finally softened, when their bodies went lax and their hearts slowly calmed, he collapsed onto his elbows above her, brushing damp hair from her face.
She touched his cheek.
He kissed her palm.
And for once, the Alpha of Blackthorn looked undone—soft around the edges, vulnerable, entirely hers.
“Eira,” he whispered, voice barely a breath.
“You’re going to ruin me.”
She smiled faintly, tired and warm and wrapped in him.
“Maybe I already have.”
Sikat na Kabanata