Cursed moon
he murmured, a tinge of greed evident in his voice.
The man who held me, in stark contrast to the one before me, appeared more like a beta—a member of the pack's hierarchy. However, the man confronting me exuded an irresistible aura of strength and allure. His muscular physique strained against his fitted shirt, veins tracing pathways beneath his taut skin. A necklace dangled from his neck, accentuating his chiselled jawline. He was a vision of masculine perfection, a prince among men.
"Well, I beg to differ. Akira is far more suitable. She possesses the essence of a fierce warrior," the man holding me asserted from behind, his voice sending shivers down my spine, resonating through my very
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