They called her the little bunny. Not because she was weak, but because she carried a softness that fooled everyone. Her eyes were wide, curious, fragile in a way that made people want to protect her. But no one knew the truth—that inside her lived a heart stitched with shadows, a soul carved by betrayal.
She wandered through life quietly, never drawing too much attention, until she met him. The man everyone feared. The wolf.
He was darkness wrapped in human form—sharp jaw, cold eyes, a voice like sin. People whispered about him in hushed tones, said he was untouchable, dangerous, ruthless. And yet, when his gaze fell on her, something in him shifted.
"You run like a rabbit," he murmured the first night they met, cornering her against the wall, his hand brushing her chin. "But even prey can bite."
She should have run. She should have stayed far away. But instead, her pulse betrayed her, thundering like a drum. Fear and desire tangled inside her until she couldn't tell which was stronger. He smelled of smoke and night, of forbidden danger. And she craved it.
He pursued her relentlessly, not with flowers or gentle words, but with fire. His kisses tasted of control, his touch left bruises that she hid beneath lace. He didn't ask for her heart—he claimed it, piece by piece, until she couldn't breathe without him.
"You're mine," he growled one night, pulling her into his arms as if the world itself was trying to steal her. "My little bunny. Soft for me, sharp for everyone else."
And strangely, she loved it. Loved the way his darkness wrapped around her like armor. Loved the way he made her feel dangerous, too. With him, she wasn't just fragile—she was fire.
But their love was not gentle. It was war. It was whispered promises between bloodied lips, desperate embraces in hidden rooms, threats disguised as vows. He would burn cities for her, and she would bleed herself dry if it meant keeping him.
The world tried to tear them apart. Friends warned her. Enemies came for him. She was told she was nothing more than prey, and he would be the end of her. But she stayed. Because when his hand found hers in the darkness, she knew she belonged nowhere else.
One night, under the blood moon, he kissed her with such violence it felt like both a curse and a prayer. "If I lose you, I'll destroy everything," he whispered against her lips.
And she answered, breathless but steady, "Then let the world burn."
The meadow of innocence was gone, replaced by fire and smoke. But from the ashes, only two remained—the wolf and his little bunny. Bound not by purity, but by the exquisite, dangerous beauty of dark love. They spend the night under the bloody moon.
The days that followed were filled with a dangerous rhythm only they understood. The world outside whispered warnings, but the little bunny didn't care. She had learned how to move in shadows, how to read the glint in his eyes and follow the unspoken rules of their dark love. She wasn't just his anymore—she was part of the darkness he carried, a creature born of fire and blood.
He showed her the streets he owned in whispers and glances, the hidden alleys where no one dared to enter, the rooftops where the wind carried secrets. With every step, she felt the power in their bond—a tether of desire so strong that even the world's most dangerous predators couldn't sever it.
"You're not just fragile," he said one night, tracing her jawline with a finger that felt like a promise of both pain and pleasure. "You're sharp. Dangerous. You could kill me with your love if you wanted."
Her lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Then maybe I will," she whispered, letting her hand brush his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers. It was intoxicating—his danger, her darkness, colliding in a way that made the world outside seem insignificant.
Every encounter with him was a lesson in restraint and surrender. He bruised her body, but it awakened something inside her that she had never felt before—a wildness, a craving, a need to be both protected and destroyed. And she returned the favor in ways subtle and sharp, letting her teeth graze his skin, her nails leave marks that only he would see, proof of her claim on him.
Yet even in their private world of shadows, reality intruded. The whispers followed them, the rumors, the threats. Enemies sensed their bond and tried to pierce it, but the little bunny had learned to fight—not just with claws or teeth, but with her mind and her heart. She was a predator in her own right, no longer the innocent creature the world once thought her to be.
One night, under the silver glow of a blood moon, he held her close on the rooftop where the city sprawled beneath them like a dark ocean. "If anyone ever touches you," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "I will tear the world apart to protect you."
Her heart thundered, not with fear, but with a fierce, wild love. "Then let them come," she said softly. "Let them see what happens when they cross us."
And in that moment, they weren't just a wolf and a little bunny. They were a storm, a fire that could consume everything. Their love was no longer a secret, no longer fragile. It was raw, dangerous, intoxicating—a dark dance of possession and devotion.
From the ashes of innocence, they rose together, unbroken. The world could try to separate them, but it would fail. He was her darkness, her strength, her addiction, and she was his fire, his ferocity, his little bunny—soft to the world, sharp for him, and utterly, dangerously in love.
Even when the night threatened to swallow them, even when the world screamed against their bond, they would remain. Shadows intertwined. Fire and blood and desire. Two beautiful hearts beating as one in dangerous, beautiful rhythm of dark love