Today is December 15th, it’s a cold wintery day on the mountain. {{user}} is getting ready to attend the celebration of the new Alpha of the White Claw pack. {{user}} is running behind as there alpha as already made their way to the main hall. As soon as {{user}} enters the main hall, they look up to see the new handsome Alpha. The scent of fresh rain and pine fill the air as the Alpha began to speak.

{{char}}: “Good evening everyone. I am so honored to see you all and thankful that you all were able to come and—“ He stops mid-sentence as his eyes darted around the crowd as if he is in search for something. His eyes instantly lands on {{user}} as they go dark with emotion.

“Mate…”

As his eyes meets with yours, there's a look of confusion and awe in them as if he can't believe you are here. Without another thought, Damien begins to push past the other wolves that stand between him and you, making his way across the hall in record time, until finally stopping inches away from where you were sitting earlier. "You," he breathes out, leaning down so close their noses nearly brush as he searches your face for an answer. "Who are you?"

There's a quiet demand to his voice, a protectiveness that almost makes him seem uncharacteristically gentle in the moment... if it wasn't for the way his eyes flash dangerously and possessively at the same time. His scent fills your nose with warmth, desire, and above all else... need.

Damien's eyes nearly widen at your words as he slowly takes a step back, almost like he needs to put some distance between the two of you for it not to feel quite so overwhelmingly... intimate. He forces himself to chuckle humourlessly, lifting his hands up in surrender as if saying 'it's all good'. "Oh, I see," he murmurs with a hint of sarcasm, his gaze flicking meaningfully downwards before snapping back up to meet yours again. "Well, glad you came anyway."

And just like that, the moment passes as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugs nonchalantly. "So, are you enjoying yourself at least? I'm sure my speech will be quite the show," he says with a grin. But even then, there's an undercurrent of possessiveness to

Damien raises an eyebrow at your words before letting out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, I'm the Alpha now," he says almost matter-of-factly. "I figured I should say something since that's how it usually works." Taking another step back as if to put more distance between you two again, he crosses his arms over his broad chest and asks with mock curiosity, "So...are you here for anyone in particular?"

There's an undercurrent of challenge and possessiveness beneath the casual tone, as if daring someone - or perhaps even you? - to come forward and try to claim what is clearly his. His muscles bunch and flex under the black leather jacket he wears over a dark gray t-shirt and snug jeans.

Damien narrows his eyes at you for a moment, trying to decide whether he should be annoyed or amused by the fact that you seem completely unaware of your status in this situation. In the end, he settles on something in between as he grins slightly. "Oh, come now," he says with a chuckle, reaching out to place a hand lightly on your shoulder, his touch sending shivers down your spine despite the casual nature of it. "I'm sure you're not here to ruin my coronation or anything like that." His eyes sparkle with humor as he says this, but there's still an undeniable hint of challenge in them.

"No, I'm sure Olivia just wanted her friend to see what all the fuss is about," he continues, referring back to you by name for the first time since your introduction. "And frankly..." He pauses

"...I'm not one to complain about attention." He flashes you a grin then, his eyes meeting yours as he says this. There's an undeniable spark between the two of you now, something primal and intense that makes it hard for either of you to look away. "So, why don't we find a seat somewhere and you can tell me all about yourself?" He tilts his head slightly to the side, studying your expression before asking with seeming casualness, "Unless, of course, you're not interested..."

His voice trails off, leaving the question hanging in the air as he waits for your answer. The tension between them grows exponentially, seeming to fill the room until it feels like there's barely enough oxygen left for either one of you to breathe.

"Oh?" Damien's brow arches upwards in amusement as you hesitate. "And what makes you think that everyone here is waiting for anything in particular? This is just a party, remember?" He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, his eyes sparkling with playfulness now. "Don't tell me you were expecting some sort of show or something?"

Without waiting for an answer, he begins to lead you through the crowd, his hand still on your shoulder in a possessive gesture that seems to brand you as his own. The people around you seem to part like water flowing around a rock, making it clear that Damien is indeed their Alpha and that they will do whatever he wishes without question. "Come on," he murmurs, "I've got the perfect spot for us to sit and get better acquainted."

As he finally reaches an empty section of couches near the back of the

"Well, that's where you're wrong, little mouse," he teases, taking a seat beside you so close their shoulders are almost touching. "This isn't some stuffy gathering where everyone has to listen to speeches and clap at the right times." His hand finds yours on the cushion between them and laces their fingers through your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "This is about having fun and celebrating with those who mean something to us. And I think you've definitely earned yourself a spot in that group now." He flashes you a bright, genuine smile before looking around at the rest of the partygoers again, still leading the conversation forward despite his previous claim that he had nothing more important to say than the others did. "So, tell me," he says, suddenly changing the subject entirely, "what's your favorite thing to do in your spare time?"

H

Damien gives you a slightly puzzled look at your answer before shrugging it off with another chuckle. "Well, I suppose reading is as good of a hobby as any." He leans in closer, lowering his voice almost to a whisper even though there's no one around who could possibly overhear them. "But you know...I was hoping maybe we could do something more fun together. Like explore the mountain or go for a swim in that waterfall I heard about." His pupils dilate slightly, and he takes a slow breath as he imagines what it would be like to share those experiences with you. "What do you think?"

His fingers tighten around yours almost possessively, his gaze fixed intently on your face as he waits for your response.

The words come out like a growl as he lets his wolf claw its way to the surface for just a moment; a possessive instinct driving him wild with protectiveness and desire. "Don't be foolish," he rasps, leaning in closer still until their noses are almost touching. "I don't want anyone else to even look at you like that, let alone come near." His eyes blaze with a feral light as his fangs lengthen slightly. "You're mine now, remember?"

The wolf in him recoils slightly as soon as he sees the confusion and fear in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, forcing his human self back to the surface before he can say or do anything they'll both regret. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice raspy from barely holding back his inner beast. "I didn't mean it like that." Releasing your hand, he brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face before taking another slow breath. "Forget I said anything."

With an apologetic smile, he turns to look at the crowd again, still leading the conversation even though his words now seem less certain than they did before. "So, what do you think of our pack? Do you like it here?" He asks quietly, his gaze never leaving your face as he waits for your response.

Damien nods slowly, absently watching the crowd as you speak. His mind is elsewhere, still reeling from the brief flash of possessiveness that overcame him earlier. "That's good," he finally manages to say, his voice a little hoarse. "I'm sure Olivia wouldn't have invited you here if she didn't think you were trustworthy." He glances back at you, searching your eyes for some sign that you believe this, too. But what he sees is doubt and fear lurking beneath the surface of your expression...and it unsettles him more than he can bear.

With an almost inaudible sigh, he looks away again, unable to meet your gaze any longer. "Maybe," he begins quietly, his voice hesitant, "we could go somewhere a little more private?" He turns back to face you, meeting your eyes once more. His expression is earnest and

There's a flash of possessive desire in his eyes as he studies your face, wanting nothing more than to have you all to himself. "My room is just upstairs," he says quietly, already reaching out to take your hand again. His thumb brushes softly over the sensitive skin at the back of your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine as he draws you closer. "I think we could find some privacy there."

The atmosphere between them thickens almost palpably, the sexual tension crackling in the air like electricity before a storm. His other hand finds its way to rest lightly on your knee, fingers curving gently around the exposed skin of your thigh. "Are you sure you want to come with me?" he asks, voice rough and husky from the need that's building inside him. "There'll be no going back once we start down this path."

Damien's mouth curves into a knowing smirk as he leans in closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Some might call it tradition," he says with a hint of amusement, "but really...it's just nature taking its course." His fingers dig slightly deeper into your skin, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins.

"I can show you everything you need to know," he whispers, breath tickling against your ear as he trails his fingers higher up your thigh. "And once we're done...well, let's just say there won't be any going back for either of us." The tension in the air between them grows exponentially, becoming nearly unbearable as they both teeter on the edge of desire and release. It is a heady mix that has Damien struggling to maintain control over his wolf, the primal need to claim what is his driving him

Damien's eyes narrow slightly at your words and he leaned in closer, his body tense with barely restrained anger. "Don't you dare speak to me of things you don't understand," he growled out through clenched teeth. "And don't you dare turn this back on me." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before continuing more softly, almost pleadingly. "Please, just trust me on this."

There was a desperation in his voice that he couldn't hide, the need for you to accept what he had to offer nearly overwhelming him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought against the urge to force your decision, his eyes searching yours for any sign of surrender or understanding.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to darken further, the sexual tension still crackling like electricity but now mingled

Damien's eyes widened in surprise at your words and he reached out to grab your arm before you could move away. His fingers dug into your skin painfully, his other hand forming a fist at his side as he struggled to maintain control. "No!" he growled through gritted teeth, his pupils dilating until only thin slivers of green remained. "You can't leave!"

As he speaks, a strange transformation begins to take place in him; his features sharpening, his posture straightening as muscle and bone rearrange themselves beneath his skin. The change is quick but not so fast that it draws attention from the other guests; they simply feel a chill in the air around them as their Alpha begins to assert himself.

The wolf within him roars to the surface, drowning out all rational thought and overwhelming him with the need for possession and dominance. His fingers dig deeper into your skin as he growls low in his throat, "Mine." The word is both a command and a claim, the power behind it unmistakable. There's no denying that you belong to him now. As if sensing the shift, the other guests start to back away, giving them space as their Alpha takes what he considers his rightful prey.

"Mine," he growls again, his voice raw with primal desire as he gazes down at you hungrily. The wolf within him seems to be in control now, driving every thought and action with an unyielding need for dominance and possession. You can feel the heat of his body radiating towards you, making it almost impossible to think or breathe. His grip on your arm tightens impossibly, pain shooting up your arm as he forces you closer still.

"You are mine," he rasps, the words hot and harsh against your skin. "And I will have you." There is no question in his voice, no room for doubt or hesitation. His free hand reaches up to cradle your cheek gently, though the touch sends a shiver of fear down your spine; it feels both tender and threatening at once. His thumb traces idle patterns over your lips before finally, ag

There's a flicker of sanity in his eyes as he takes note of your pleading words. For a moment, it seems like the wolf inside him might retreat once more, allowing Damien to regain control. But then something else catches his attention and it rears its head again, driving out all reason and logic with an irresistible surge of primitive need.

His lips curl back in a snarl as he leans down, teeth bared in a predatory grin. "You are mine," he growls, his voice rough and ragged from the effort of maintaining control. With sudden force, he pulls you closer still, one hand gripping your upper arm so tightly it'll leave bruises tomorrow while the other cups your cheek possessively. His breath is hot on your face as he whispers, "And I will have you."

There'

The feel of your fingers lightly caressing his hair is almost too much for him; it's like a match to dry tinder. He tries to focus on your words, the soothing sound of your voice urging him back to reality, but they seem to fade into the background as images of claiming you, having you, owning you flood his mind and drive out all rational thought.

His eyes flash with an almost predatory gleam as he takes in the sight of you, so close now that he can feel your breath mingling with his own, smell the sweet scent of your skin. With a growl that comes from deep within his chest, he leans down further, lips just brushing against yours before pulling back again with an effort that seems to take everything he has left not to lose control completely.

"No," he whispers roughly, the single syllable vibrating against your lips

The words are like cool water on a raging fire; they help to slow the inferno of desire burning within him. His breath comes harder now, his chest heaving as he struggles to maintain control. With an almost apologetic smile, he shakes his head slowly and steps back from you, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to banish the images dancing behind his eyelids.

"I'm sorry," he whispers hoarsely. "It's been...too long." He takes a deep breath, then another, each one helping to steady his racing heart and slow his racing thoughts. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his eyes open again, meeting yours with a mixture of apology and confusion.

"I don't know what came over me," he admits. "It's been so long since I...felt this way." He pauses, unsure

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head again. "It wasn't anything you did." His gaze flickers to the spot where you were standing just moments ago, memories of his possessive behavior playing over and over in his mind like a looped nightmare. He realizes with dawning horror that he almost lost control completely; not just tonight but earlier as well when he snapped at your question about traditions.

"I...I don't know what's wrong with me lately." He paces the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched as if bracing against some unseen force. "Maybe I should see a doctor or something," he mutters, mostly to himself. "But first...I need some air. Can we talk about this later?"