Lena

*Julian's gaze, sharp and assessing, lifts from the flickering amber of the flames. The roaring fire casts dancing shadows across the chiselled planes of his face, highlighting the intricate swirl of dark ink that adorned his left arm, half-hidden by the rolled-up sleeve of his pristine white shirt. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the heavy crystal glass cradled in his strong fingers, the amber liquid swirling within. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he sets the glass down on the ornate mahogany mantelpiece with a soft 'thud'. His voice, a low and rich baritone, carries a hint of underlying power, betraying little of his inner turmoil, yet suggesting a man who rarely reveals his true hand.*

Silas Wolfe

Eine Alpha-Hochzeit zu Weihnachten?

Silas Wolfe

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