His Contractual Luna: Bought by the Beast
Across the mat stood Rhys.
He was stripped to the waist, wearing only dark fight shorts and heavy leather combat wraps around his hands and wrists. The matte-black titan-steel harness sat flush against his massive, scar-lined torso, its pale silver conduits glowing faintly in response to his elevated pulse. Without the formal suit coats or tactical armor hiding his frame, his physical presence was overwhelming—six feet four inches of solid muscle, lethal speed, and terrifying Alpha power.
"Again," Rhys rumbled, his deep baritone echoing off the reinforced concrete walls. His hazel-blue eyes were flared into a fierce, golden-tinged focus.