I told myself I'd never kneel.
Not for safety. Not for some alpha's growl echoing off iron bars shrouded in Highland mist.
I've clawed my way through this world, dodging packs and promises, chasing protection on my own reckless terms. Independence is my armor. Yielding? That's for weaklings who forget their bite.
But he changed the game the second he hauled me into that sanctuary cage.
This guardian with rain-lashed fur bristling under moonlight, eyes like a storm promising ruin and rescue in equal measure.
He calls it safeguarding. I call it a trap.
His massive frame blocks the only exit, scent flooding the dim space — musk and menace that twists my gut into knots I can't untie.
I snap back with sarcasm, fists clenched on cold bars, but my body betrays me. Heat pools low. Defiance cracks.
Every denied touch turns savage.
He pins me in the shadows of the healer's lair, breath hot against my neck, forcing truths I swore to bury.
I fight the pull, the fated ache that demands I bare my throat.
But when he knots me — slick, unrelenting, owning every tremble — freedom feels like the biggest lie I ever told myself.
His gruff obsession strips me raw, vulnerability spilling out in gasps I can't stifle. Possession devours. Submission sings.
One wrong snarl, one slip of that fragile trust, and I'm lost forever.
Chained to a mate who breaks me open just to rebuild me in his image.
Do I shatter my pride to survive him… or let the bond drag us both under?
