The air in the Moonfang pack's lair was thick with tension. Kael Fenryn, Alpha of the rogue werewolves, stood at the edge of the balcony, his eyes scanning the darkened forest. His senses were heightened, his every nerve alive with the scent of the night, but tonight something else lingered, something that had been gnawing at him since the moment the Vampire Princess crossed his path.
Lyra Virelle.
Her name burned in his mind like fire on his skin, and he could feel the pull of her presence even from a distance. Her blood had already begun to call to him, their bond stronger than either of them wanted to admit.
Kael growled low in his throat, his sharp gaze cutting through the shadows as he turned toward the heavy door that creaked open behind him. The scent of her—sweet and dangerous, like the promise of something forbidden—filled the room before she even stepped inside.
"Lyra," Kael's voice was like a dark caress, the single word heavy with unspoken command. His eyes locked onto her, and his body responded, a feral hunger deep in his core awakening. The vampire princess was everything he should have hated, everything his pack had been bred to destroy but instead, she was everything he craved.
Lyra stepped into the room, her presence consuming. Her raven hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her violet eyes gleamed with an almost predatory light. She was beautiful, yes, but it was the kind of beauty that made a man want to tear her apart and put her back together—no matter the cost.
"You've kept me waiting." Her voice was sultry, like silk being dragged across bare skin. She walked toward him, each step measured and slow, her gaze never leaving his.
Kael's hands clenched at his sides, the wolf inside him fighting for control. The heat between them was palpable now, as if the very air crackled with the tension they couldn't escape.
"You shouldn't be here," Kael muttered, his voice strained, but his body betrayed him. His pulse hammered in his ears, blood rushing south. Her proximity was alluring, and the thought of her, the woman who was supposed to be his adversary, sparked a wild, insatiable thirst that only she could quench.
"I do not take orders, Alpha." Lyra's voice was sharp, but there was an edge of teasing in it. She closed the distance between them in an instant, standing so close that Kael could feel the heat radiating off her. She wasn't afraid of him. No, she was daring him to act, to unleash whatever darkness and desire had been building between them since the first moment they met.
She lifted her chin, her lips barely an inch from his ear as she whispered, "You want me. I can see it in your eyes. You feel it... don't you?"
Kael's breath hitched as he fought to restrain the wolf clawing to break free. He did not want this, nor did he want her. But the ache inside him grew stronger, fiercer with every breath. The lust he had buried deep within him for so long now flooded to the surface, raw and untamed.
Before he could stop himself, his lips crashed against hers in a searing kiss. It was fierce and hungry; no tenderness, just a wild, desperate need. Her taste was intoxicating, and Kael's hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as if he couldn't get enough.
Lyra responded with equal fervor, her hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer, urging him on. She kissed him back with the kind of hunger that matched his, each movement like a spark setting the forest aflame.
Kael's hands slid lower, feeling the soft curve of her body beneath the silk of her dress. He cursed under his breath as his fingers traced the edge of her neckline, his mind a blur of desire. She was his. She didn't belong to anyone else.
Lyra pulled away for a brief moment, her chest rising and falling with every breath. "You're weak, Kael. You've already given in to me."
His eyes were dark with need, a growl vibrating in his throat. "Don't test me, Lyra. I'm not weak."
Without another word, he spun her around, slamming her back against the stone wall, his lips trailing down her neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin. She moaned softly, the sound making his blood run hotter.
Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the hard, muscled body beneath. She ran her hands down his chest, nails scraping over his skin, making him shudder.
"Is this what you want, Lyra?" Kael asked in a low growl, his voice rough with desire.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she met his gaze. "It's not about what I want," she whispered. "It's about what we both need."
And with that, there was no more restraint. There was no more willpower to fight the undeniable, burning attraction that pulled them together. They were locked in a desperate, primal dance, and neither could predict who would dominate or who would fall the hardest.