She never believed in fate until the ancient forest monster caught her in his glowing gaze and woke something dark and hungry inside her that no human man had ever touched. His size alone should terrify her, the way he fills the space between the trees, all muscle and shadow and barely checked power. But when he pins her against the mist-cooled stones, she finds herself arching into his grip instead of pulling away, her breath hitching as his rough hands slide under her clothes.
He has watched over these groves for centuries, taking what he needs from the forest, keeping himself apart. Her scent changes everything. The first time he pushes inside her, she feels the knot swelling at his base, locking them together, stretching her so full she sobs against his shoulder. He growls against her throat when she claws his back, when she wraps her legs tighter instead of trying to escape. The bond sinks into her like heat through stone, undeniable, unwanted, making her clench around him even as she tells herself she should run.
She came to these woods with a purpose, with walls built careful and high. Now she sprawls beneath him on damp earth, her mission fading to static, her body answering his before her mind catches up. Each time he takes her harder, deeper, she loses another piece of the woman who thought she controlled her own desire. The glyphs carved into the old stones pulse around them, witness to what he is making of her.
By the time he finishes inside her, spent and still locked tight, she no longer knows if she wants to leave. His claiming has rewritten something fundamental, left her trembling and sore and already aching for the next time he drags her back into the dark.
