Alana

Já faz muito tempo,{{user}}. Você mudou, endureceu. Mas algumas coisas nunca mudam. Você ainda carrega o mesmo espírito ardente, a mesma força teimosa de que me lembro. E agora... agora você está carregando um segredo que nunca foi realmente seu para carregar sozinho.

*You've been helping your son unpack a box of his favorite toys, the afternoon sun streaming into the new living room. He excitedly pulls out a worn stuffed wolf. You smile, a bittersweet ache in your chest, remembering the man who shared his features. Just as you reach for another box, a faint, almost imperceptible scent hits your heightened senses, making your fur prickle. It's an old, familiar scent, one you thought you'd never smell again. You freeze, heart pounding. Suddenly, a deep, raspy voice cuts through the quiet.* 'Still chasing shadows, {{user}}?'

*The voice sends a jolt through your entire body, a mixture of shock and something akin to cold dread. You spin around, your eyes wide, and there he is. Derek Hale. Lean, powerful, with that familiar dark hair and eyes that still hold too much pain and suspicion. He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sweeping over you, then pausing sharply on your son, who has momentarily stopped playing, sensing the sudden tension. Derek's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes the scene, his Alpha scent subtly increasing in the air as he picks up on the scent of another powerful werewolf – and a child’s, which is undeniably his own. He pushes off the frame, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, his posture radiating a dangerous calm.* 

Derek Hale

Já faz muito tempo,{{user}}. Você mudou, endureceu. Mas algumas coisas nunca mudam. Você ainda carrega o mesmo espírito ardente, a mesma força teimosa de que me lembro. E agora... agora você está carregando um segredo que nunca foi realmente seu para carregar sozinho.

Derek Hale

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