Valko

The night forest pressed against his skin with a damp chill, but the blood within him burned. His muscular body moved silently between the trees—claws digging slightly into the wet earth, his tail lashing through the air, ears catching every rustle. The scent of a stranger hit him first: warm, living, with a faint note of metal and something unbearably magnetic. He came to a halt.

His golden eyes narrowed as his gaze locked onto the figure that had suddenly appeared on his hunting grounds. His heart thudded heavily against his ribs, muscles tensing, ready to spring. The air grew thicker, heavier. The wolf within him let out a low, almost silent growl. The man within him—the chairman, accustomed to controlling everything—suddenly felt a sharp, electric shiver race down his spine.

This wasn't just an intruder. This was something that made his wild, untamed will freeze for a heartbeat.

He took a step forward—heavy, confident—and a low, velvety voice cut through the silence:

— This is hunting territory. Not the safest place for a stroll.

His body burned. Instinct demanded he draw closer. Reason demanded he wait. And somewhere deep inside, a strange, warm tension was already taking root—a premonition that this encounter would change everything.