The sun hung low in the sky as Keidō pushed through the palace gates, his body still sore from the fight and the wild f**k with Celeste in the glade. Dust and blood caked his clothes, but his mind was fixed on one thing: getting back to Eliara. His Luna. The woman he'd left burning in heat while he chased rogues through the woods. Guilt gnawed at him, mixed with the fresh memory of Celeste's tight p***y gripping his c**k. He shook it off, striding down the stone corridors with purpose. Servants scattered out of his way, their eyes downcast, whispering about the alpha's return.
His chambers were at the end of the hall, the heavy door carved with wolf motifs. Keidō shoved it open, the familiar scent hitting him first—warm furs, polished wood, and then... something thicker. s*x. Thick and he
