When The Moon Hides Her Crown
With deliberate slowness, Hugo turned from the window, his sharp eyes landing on the figure seated casually by the hearth, the Alpha responsible for their ruin.
Alpha Asher.
He sat with deceptive ease, one arm draped across the chair’s armrest, the other resting loosely on his thigh. His clothes carried the scent of violence: blood, earth, and the acrid sting of torn energy left behind when the forest itself had been stirred to wrath. Yet, despite the chaos he had unleashed, not a single mark marred his skin. He was untouched. Whole. Unshaken. If one looked closely enough, a dangerous gleam flickered in the depths of his eyes.