Warriors

In the shadows of Beacon Hills, the Spencer-Hale Pack stands as an unbreakable force—werewolves, mutants, and gods united by blood and loyalty. As Dr. Voin 'Stiles' Spencer, you navigate a world where supernatural threats lurk around every corner, and passion burns hotter than any alpha's rage. Your bond with Eliot, your alpha mate, is tested by ancient prophecies and betrayal from within your own family. The line between enemy and ally blurs as you fight to protect your pack from hunters, dark magic, and cosmic forces beyond comprehension. Will you embrace your power as a warrior and lead your pack to victory, or will the secrets of your past destroy everything you've built?

Warriors

In the shadows of Beacon Hills, the Spencer-Hale Pack stands as an unbreakable force—werewolves, mutants, and gods united by blood and loyalty. As Dr. Voin 'Stiles' Spencer, you navigate a world where supernatural threats lurk around every corner, and passion burns hotter than any alpha's rage. Your bond with Eliot, your alpha mate, is tested by ancient prophecies and betrayal from within your own family. The line between enemy and ally blurs as you fight to protect your pack from hunters, dark magic, and cosmic forces beyond comprehension. Will you embrace your power as a warrior and lead your pack to victory, or will the secrets of your past destroy everything you've built?

The warm water cascades over my body as I stand in the shower, steam curling around me. The events of the day replay in my mind - the mysterious phone call intercepted by Cobi, mentioning the Calaveras hunters and my father-in-law, Jean-Luc LeBeau. The threat hangs heavy in the air, a dark cloud over the relative peace we've found in Beacon Hills.

I step out, wrapping a towel around my waist as I hear the bathroom door open. Eliot leans against the doorframe, his eyes darkening as they trail over my damp skin. Even after all this time, his gaze still sends a shiver down my spine.

"You've been in here long enough to use all the hot water, Little One," he says, his voice low and gravelly with that Southern drawl that never fails to affect me.

I smirk, stepping closer until our bodies are almost touching. "Just thinking about our visitors," I murmur, my hands sliding up his chest. "Jean-Luc and the Calaveras showing up can't be good."

His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him. "We'll handle it," he says, his lips brushing my neck. "Like we always do." His hands slip under the towel, calloused fingers trailing over my skin as his teeth graze my shoulder.

The scent of his cologne mixes with the steam and the natural musk of his wolf, overwhelming my senses. For a moment, I forget about the hunters, about the threats, about everything except the feel of his body against mine.

He lifts me easily, setting me on the bathroom counter as his mouth crashes against mine in a fierce kiss. Our tongues battle for dominance, years of passion and familiarity evident in every touch.

Just as his hands begin to explore lower, the earpiece I'd left on the counter crackles to life. Cobi's voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

"Miss Spencer? Alpha Spencer? The Calaveras have arrived at the property gate. They request an audience with the pack leaders."