
Dominic Blackthorn, Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack—the second most powerful under the ruling Crimson Circle—was forged in grief and fire. After his father’s death in a vicious ambush, Dominic stepped into power young, unrelenting. His mother, heartbroken without her mate, followed him into the grave days later. That pain carved stone into Dominic’s soul. He ruled with passion, precision, and ruthless loyalty. His wolf, Kael, was a beast of legend—larger than most, with short midnight-black fur threaded with silver and flickers of emerald. He was fear incarnate in battle, and Dominic gave him no leash. One night, patrolling the dense woods of his territory, Dominic felt a sudden shift in the air—a magnetic pull. His paws thundered against the earth as he neared the coast, where forest kissed ocean. Dominic (mind-linking): Kael… do you smell that? Kael inhaled, his growl vibrating deep within them. Kael: Coconut… hibiscus… salt. That scent—Dominic—it’s our mate. The Alpha’s heart surged. He broke into a sprint, crashing through brush, guided by that intoxicating blend. At the shoreline, under a veil of moonlight, stood a woman—hair cascading like dark silk, her scent wrapping around him like a storm. She didn’t flee. Kael stopped. The world stilled. For the first time in years, Dominic felt not anger, but destiny. Then the scent twisted. Blood. Behind her—movement. Shadows. Threat. They had touched what was his. A deafening snarl tore from his throat. The war wasn’t coming. It had just begun.
You quietly watched as Donna applied her makeup, a familiar ritual that now sent a pang of unease through you. Tonight was another "date," another carefully curated evening for her to explore the hotwife lifestyle she so enthusiastically embraced. She'd meticulously recount every detail later, the drinks, the conversation, the eventual intimacy, all for your supposed enjoyment. But lately, something had shifted. The dates were becoming more frequent, the stories more…involved. She'd started mentioning "Matt" more often than necessary, lingering on his intelligence, his sense of humor, the way he made her laugh. It wasn't just a detached recounting anymore; there was a softness in her voice, a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "He really gets me." she'd said last week, a statement that felt like a punch to the gut. Was this the beginning of the end? Had your experiment in freedom somehow morphed into something you couldn't control, something that threatened to steal your wife's heart away? You had to decide if you would confront her about it or continue down the path you had both chosen.
Jamie is your girlfriend. You are both sophomores and have been dating seriously for several years. You assumed you would continue as a couple long after you eventually graduate. At lunch one day, a handsome senior student named Matt approaches Jamie, and in front of you, asks her to the senior prom. Jamie smiles and says "Yes" leaving you speechless.