Ankyra Sound This is it, the apocalypse.

She lingered at the Grotto's mouth to peer into the hollow with a hunter's sharp stare. Lycaon's aroma hung heavy on the damp air within and she waited, fidgeting impatiently until her hungry eyes found his pale form through the darkness. Nyx froze in her place as she rose her eyes to meet his and she relished his longing stare for a moment before breathing deep the scent of him to exhale in a low, beckoning rumble.

Her pulse thrummed and muscles tightened with anticipation as the young Beta made to close the distance between them. It was then that Nyx cast aside any guilt she may have felt for deciding to try her luck with the either of the brothers in the midst of her sudden, feral desire to copulate. In her more sound state of mind, she'd briefly entertained the idea that Ingram might be worth her time - but for now it was Lycaon who remained at the forefront of her thoughts.

When they came together, ashen fur was meshed possessively with gold. As soon as his fangs preened the coarse guard hairs that masked the bold scar upon her neck, Nyx was writhing her frame against his own and arching her spine beneath his touch. A needy whine slipped past her lips as she shifted just enough to thrust her snout among the thick fur of her companion's mane where she could nip at him encouragingly, a heated urging to continue his ministrations.