Luneshale Pass sword of destiny

His nostrils flared, his head rising as he sniffed the wind, catching the scent that had been trailing him.

Stronger now.

Closer.

He turned, his massive frame pivoting, the motion smooth. Silver eyes burned as they landed on her, a pale figure cutting through the haze of the desert.

Kóvictus let out a low rumble, his breath heavy as he took her in. His nostrils flared again, and he inhaled deeply, greedily, her scent filling him with something raw, something primal. It was feminine, heady—and it stirred him in ways he hadn’t felt in a long time. His lips peeled back slightly, exposing sharp teeth in something that was neither a snarl nor a grin, but a feral display of interest. The muscles along his shoulders and back rippled under his coarse coat.

Closer now, he let out a sharp chuff, his breath curling in the dry air as he exhaled her scent from his lungs only to pull it back in again, deeper this time. The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable—raw, carnal, commanding. She wasn’t prey. No, she was something far more dangerous, and that only made him want her more.

Kóvictus’s head tilted slightly as he circled her. His eyes raked over her form, unabashed in their appraisal. She was smaller than him, her frame sleek yet powerful, her curves unmistakable.

His chest rumbled with approval.