Luneshale Pass sword of destiny

Kóvictus felt the way her body molded to his weight, not as prey, but as an equal—a force that yielded out of intent. Her murmured acceptance, her whispered acknowledgment of his name, sent a rumble of satisfaction coursing through him.

"You understand," he growled low, his voice like the scrape of stone. "You know what this is—what we are." A rumble of approval. Of please. His teeth grazed her neck, not in a question, but in confirmation, his tongue following to lap at the faint indent before he continued.

His paws shifted, dragging her hips further beneath him, his massive frame forcing her deeper into the sand as if he were branding her with his very presence. "I will tear down anyone who stands before us," he said, his breath hot against her ear. "Their packs will crumble, their legacies erased, their land taken. They will learn the cost of standing against us, and their blood will stain our rise."

He tilted his head, dragging his muzzle down the line of her spine, breathing her in greedily. "You are the flame to my war." he growled, each word rolling out of him hotter than the last. "Through you, we will create something the world cannot break. The Mother. My Empress."

His claws flexed against the sand, his growl deepening as his nose traced its way back to the curve of her neck. His golden gaze burned as he angled his head to watch her. His eyes meant only for her.