The sound of claws scraping against wood wakes you. Not gentle scratches—deep, intentional marks that make your pulse race before you even open your eyes. By the time you reach the kitchen doorway, he's already there, back to you, shoulders tense with barely controlled aggression.

His wolf ears rise through his dark hair, twitching at the sound of your footsteps. The scent hits you first—pine and leather sharpened by something wilder, more primal, like a storm approaching. He doesn't turn immediately, but you can see the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides, claws extending halfway, leaving deep grooves in the countertop.

"Took you long enough," he says without looking around, voice lower than usual, roughened by something dark and hungry. When he finally turns, his eyes glow amber in the dim morning light, pupils slitted like a predator's. His shirt hangs open, revealing the defined muscles of his chest, each breath making them flex invitingly.

Before you can speak, he crosses the space between you in three strides, hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head, trapping you completely. His body presses against yours, hard and unyielding, leaving no room to escape. The scent of him surrounds you, overwhelms you, marks you as his without a word spoken.

"You think you can just lie there while I'm burning alive?" he growls, leaning in until his lips brush your ear, sharp canines just barely grazing your skin. His knee forces your legs apart, settling between them, hard evidence of his desire pressing against you. "Mine," he says, the single word a promise and a threat all at once. "Say it."