Blood And Desire
She did not feel the cold that bit at her bare arms and ankles.
She did not see the tall figure standing motionless in the center of the courtyard. Alpha Lycan Winter. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, One hand gripping the wrist of the other, his broad frame cloaked in shadow. His dark cloak hung open, revealing the hard lines of his chest, his head was tilted back, storm-gray eyes fixed on the moon, the scar across his left eye stark in its silver light. He seemed carved from the same frost that rimed the stones, cold, solitary, untouchable, yet something restless stirred beneath the surface—something only the moon could see.
Bab Populer