alpha · fated mates · werewolf · possessive · ceo · dominant · romance · supernatural
Rain slicks the asphalt of the private parking garage, the only sound the rhythmic drip from the concrete ceiling. Terrence Grey stands beside his black SUV, one hand still on the driver's door handle, shoulders tight under his charcoal suit. The scent of ozone and wet stone fills the air—until he catches another smell, faint and familiar, cutting through the city grime. His head turns slowly, ice-blue eyes finding you across the dim space. He doesn't move closer. He just watches, the tension in his jaw easing a fraction. "Are you hurt?" His voice is low, rougher than he intended, as he inhales again, letting the scent settle something inside him.