The hardwood of the floor was cold against Ethan’s back, a stark contrast to the oppressive, feverish heat radiating from James’s body. The locked door stood as a silent sentry, sealing them into a world where the laws of the school hallway and the "perfect" hierarchies of the wolf packs didn't apply. Here, in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp outside the window, there was only the raw, jagged friction of two predators who had been circling each other for years.
"James, stop... don't do this," Ethan panted, but the words were hollow, falling flat in the charged air. His amber eyes were wide, his pupils blown out until they nearly swallowed the gold. His wolf was clawing at the surface, driven wild by the scent of a Vance—the thick, musky aroma of cedar and storm clouds that James c
