The forest breathed under the silver light of a full moon, shadows stretching like dark fingers across the snow-dusted ground. Lyria's amber eyes scanned the woods, every nerve on high alert. The wolves of her pack had warned her: the rogue was dangerous. But instinct whispered something else, something hotter, alive, and dangerous in the shadows beyond sight.
Her hand hovered over the dagger at her hip. The cold bit at her skin, yet her heart raced hotter than the winter air. A soft crunch echoed not the rogue's, something else. Something… deliberate.
Then he stepped from the shadows. Tall, impossibly graceful, and dark. Black coat flowing like liquid night, golden eyes glinting like molten gold, every step predatory. Kael. The Vampire King.
"You're far from your pack," he said, voice low, magnetic, dangerous. "And reckless."
Lyria's wolf instincts snarled, warning her to run, to fight, to strike. And yet, every fiber of her body human, wolf, and heart reacted to him. Heat surged through her, dangerous, forbidden.
"I could say the same," she spat, defiance blazing, dagger ready. Her wolf bristled, alert to his unnatural aura.
Kael smirked, a predator sensing prey, amusement and hunger mingling in his golden gaze. "Reckless… yes. Beautiful… undeniably."
Before she could respond, the rogue lunged. Teeth bared, claws slashing. Lyria barely dodged, breath hissing. And then Kael moved. Lightning fast, impossibly strong. He intercepted the wolf, crushing it with a single motion, tossing it aside like it weighed nothing. Lyria's chest heaved. His power… dangerous, overwhelming, consuming.
"You are mine," he murmured as he turned to her, the heat from his body impossible to ignore. "No matter the world, no matter your pack, you belong to me."
She blinked, taken aback. Her wolf bristled, her human heart racing. "Y-you… can't just"
He stepped closer, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath. "Oh, but I can," he whispered, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. Electric fire shot through her. Every nerve sang, every instinct screamed, forbidden and molten.
"Do you feel it too?" he asked, golden eyes locking with hers, smoldering with obsession and desire.
"I… I do," she admitted, voice trembling, pulse hammering against her ribs.
Kael's growl rumbled in his chest, possessive, dangerous, molten. He stepped closer, heat radiating from him, lips brushing hers in a kiss that was fire, ice, and molten temptation all at once. Lyria gasped, melting into the forbidden desire she had tried to resist.
Every heartbeat, every shiver, screamed it: this was forbidden. Dangerous. But impossible to deny.
And in that forest, under the silver moon, a wolf and a vampire king ignited a fire that would consume worlds, defy packs, and claim hearts with a passion neither could escape.