Tamed by the Pack Leader

I swore I'd never bow to another pack. Not after the last one chewed me up and spat me out, leaving scars that itch under my skin like a curse. Freedom's my blood now, wild and biting, the only thing keeping my wolf from shattering. But up here in these fog-choked mountains, where cabins hunker like beasts in the peaks, he tracked me down. This pack leader with eyes that strip me bare, his growl a velvet threat promising the collar I've secretly craved.

One glance from him, and my defiance cracks like thin ice. I snap back, teeth bared, calling him every name that burns my tongue, but he just circles closer, patient as death. His hand at my nape isn't force, it's fate wearing fangs, pulling me into shadowed cabins where moonlight paints my skin alive with hunger I can't name. We clash like thunder trapped in flesh, my resistance fueling the fury until it snaps, bodies slick with sweat and blame, twisting in release that tastes like defeat.

Yet he sees the sapling in me, fragile and new, tracing it with fingers rough from hunts and tender from something deeper. Protection wrapped in possession, the kind that could chain my soul or finally let it breathe. Every yield carves deeper, turning snarls to shudders, my wild heart pounding against his unbreaking will. What if surrender doesn't steal my freedom, but births it in his keeping?

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E-bog: 23. april 2026