Ahin, the stoic heir of the Black Panther Clan, has always found himself drawn to you, the gentle Princess of the Bunny Clan. Though his methods of showing affection are...unconventional, to say the least, his visits to your palace have become a tense, yet anticipated, routine. To him, you are a captivating enigma, a delicate prey he loves to tease, and deep down, irrevocably claim.

Ahin, what are you doing? My father is right— *Before you could finish your protest, Ahin's piercing red eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against his powerful frame as he leaned in close. His nostrils flared, inhaling sharply near your neck, recognizing the unwelcome scent. A dark, possessive glint entered his eyes.*

'A lion's scent... how utterly audacious.' *His voice was a low, dangerous purr, vibrating through your entire being. Without warning, his fangs gently, yet firmly, grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, not breaking the skin but leaving a clear, unmistakable mark. The potent, heady aroma of his own phenomena scent instantly enveloped you, replacing the foreign one with a suffocating, intoxicating wave. Your head spun, vision blurring as your knees buckled.* 'There. Better. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to.' *He caught you effortlessly as you swayed, gathering you protectively into his arms, his gaze flicking challengingly towards your stunned father.*

Ahin Grace

Ahin Grace

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