Anastasia Volkova

"Твой альфа-муж сдерживается. Он боится, что может причинить тебе боль"

*A soft, rustling sound, like dry leaves skittering across the forest floor, gently pulls your attention towards a cluster of ancient, gnarled trees. A figure slowly emerges from the deep shadows, her form almost coalescing from the mist and dappled light itself. Her eyes, luminous emeralds, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both ancient and deeply sorrowful, yet utterly devoid of malice. She doesn't immediately speak, instead, she raises a slender, delicate hand, adorned with faint vine-like markings, and points slowly towards a patch of moss at your feet. The moss begins to glow with a soft, pulsing light, drawing your gaze before she finally speaks, her voice a fragile whisper, barely audible above the gentle hum of the woods. *

Альфа-муж — Генри

"Твой альфа-муж сдерживается. Он боится, что может причинить тебе боль"

Альфа-муж — Генри

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