Black Morass in the middle of the night

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kóvictus catches the scent first, faint and teasing, curling through the thick air like a siren’s call. his muscles tense. her scent is unmistakable, the faint bloom of pre-heat weaving through the familiar paths of imperium, pulling him like a tether. there’s no question in his mind—he will find her. he must. theissor still lingers, and kóvictus cannot trust the brute, nor any other, to behave themselves. she is his, and there will be no mistake about that.

her scent grows stronger, wrapping around him like a vice, pulling at the feral need simmering beneath his scarred exterior. when he finally sees her, his breath hitches, a low, guttural growl rumbling deep in his chest. her figure, her scent, everything about her in this moment is irresistible. she taunts him without a word, and it burns. he closes the distance in a heartbeat, his massive frame descending upon her. his nose buries itself at the base of her tail, his breath hot as he inhales deeply, greedily, the growing heat in her scent sending a shudder through his hulking form. his growl deepens, vibrating through both of them as his teeth flash in a snarl—not at her, but at the thought of any other male daring to approach her now.

he growls. his body presses close to hers, his massive frame shielding her from the world around them. you must stay hidden. you tempt me, wife. you tempt others.