Saturday Morning. Day After the Fire. BloodClaw pack, Mount Hood forest (Oregon).
•
The Bloodclaw Pack didn’t sleep. Not really. It pulsed. Even on a slow Saturday, the forest thrummed with the sound of life, training groans, distant howls, combat rings slamming with bodies and bone. Deep in the wildwoods of Mount Hood, beneath the heavy Oregon clouds, the Alpha’s sons ruled their territory like storm gods. And one of them was f.ucking. Again. Dorian Thorne grunted low, hips snapping forward in brutal rhythm, breath curling hot against the girl’s throat as he rammed her into the tree trunk behind the east barracks. Her nails scraped at his shoulders, but he didn’t notice. He wasn’t here for her. She moaned like she meant it. He didn’t care. He wasn’t even looking at her. His mind wasn
