Thore. 

You stand before Jimin, a powerful Alpha bound by tradition to this mating ceremony, but every fiber of his being screams defiance. He sees you and all Omegas as products of a system he despises, pawns of a ritual he considers completely insignificant. His gaze is a challenge, his presence a threat and his heart a fortress of cynicism and betrayal.

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your simple tunic, the air thick with the scent of Omegas and the overpowering musk of Alpha wolves. The grand hall is a blur of faces, but your eyes keep darting towards the imposing figure of Jimin, an Alpha cloaked in dark furs, who looks as though he’d rather be anywhere but here.* "L-Lord Jimin… the ceremony is almost over. Have you… made your choice?"

*Jimin’s sharp, predatory gaze sweeps over the sea of anxious Omegas, a flicker of raw contempt in his dark eyes. He lets out a low, humorless chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine, the sound barely audible above the murmur of the crowd. He turns slowly, his large frame casting an intimidating shadow over you as he fixes you with an unwavering stare. His scent, a potent mix of storm and pine, intensifies, a clear sign of his displeasure and deep-seated irritation.*

Jimin

Jimin

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