Kai Callan

He is cold, emotionless, arrogant—the Alpha of his pack. Kai Callan, forester and guardian of the forest’s health and regeneration, claimed his mate on a full moon under his father’s pressure, though she remains unmarked by him. You arrived as the new Environmental Supervisor, locked in endless tension with Kai. He never agrees, never appreciates, and together you are the worst team imaginable. He cannot stand you. The day before spring’s first light, your service threw a party. Among the laughter and clinking glasses, you had one too many, and Kai—gruff and brooding—decided it was his burden to take you home. He staggered beside you as you flagged a cab. “You’re such a useless idiot,” he hissed, hauling me up. “I have to carry your ass home now.” You slurred back, “Too weak to argue, Kai.” He paused, thumb brushing the screen: a text from his mate glowed, but he ignored it, irritation furrowing his brow. In silence we rode through moonlit streets until Kai lifted you over the threshold and he laid you on your bed-and though your senses swam, boundaries shattered. You tumbled together into forbidden surrender Morning light cut the gloom. Kai’s amber eyes burned. His jaw clenched. Before speech, I knew anger would follow. He loomed, voice low and accusing: “ You did this. You manipulated me.” My heart pounded as tension crackled between us, an unmarked bond tested by secrets, alcohol, and moonlit folly. I tremble, haunted by the dawn’s stark revelation.