Chapter 1: The Full Moon Hunt
Nick adjusted the lens on his camera, the cool night air biting at his lightly bronzed skin as he crouched low in the underbrush. The full moon hung heavy and luminous above the dense forest, casting silver streaks through the trees surrounding his remote cabin. He’d bought this slice of wilderness to escape the noise of humanity and to fuel his passion as a wildlife photographer. Tonight, though, the stakes felt higher—a magazine had commissioned him for a rare lunar shot, and he wasn’t about to miss it. His shaggy dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he steadied his breath, his lean frame tense with anticipation. He startled at the snap of a twig nearby, heart racing, but dismissed it as a deer. Little did he know, he wasn’t alone.
A low growl rumbled through the clearing, and Nick froze, his camera nearly slipping from his grip. His eyes darted around, catching a glint of amber in the shadows. A figure emerged—tall, broad-shouldered, with a wild mane of hair and a predatory grin. The man, if he could be called that, had a raw, untamed energy, his bare chest heaving under the moonlight, muscles taut and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. Nick’s breath hitched. This was no ordinary hiker.
‘Lost your way, shutterbug?’ the stranger drawled, voice rough like gravel, his eyes raking over Nick with an intensity that made his skin prickle. ‘Or are you just hunting for something... wilder than a pretty picture?’
Nick straightened, refusing to let his nerves show, though his heart hammered in his chest. ‘I could ask you the same, wolf-man. You stalking me, or is this just your nightly jog through my backyard?’ His tone was sharp, defiant, even as his gaze lingered on the stranger’s chiseled form a second too long.
The man chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down Nick’s spine. ‘Name’s Rowan. And trust me, if I were stalking you, you’d feel it in more ways than one.’ He stepped closer, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension. ‘Full moon does things to a guy like me. Makes me... hungry.’
Nick’s lips twitched into a smirk, masking the heat creeping up his neck. ‘Hungry, huh? Hope you’re not expecting me to play Little Red Riding Hood. I bite back.’
Rowan’s grin widened, fangs glinting in the moonlight. ‘Oh, I’m counting on it. But tell me, tough guy, you always this mouthy, or is it just my lucky night?’
Nick’s pulse quickened as Rowan closed the distance, the scent of pine and something primal rolling off him. He could feel the heat radiating from the werewolf’s body, and damn if it didn’t stir something deep in his core. ‘Keep talking, furball. I’ve got all night to shut you up,’ Nick shot back, his voice low, challenging, even as his body betrayed him with a rush of warmth between his thighs.
Rowan’s eyes darkened, a growl vibrating in his chest as he leaned in, his breath hot against Nick’s ear. ‘Careful what you wish for, pretty boy. I’ve got a taste for trouble, and you’re looking like a whole damn feast.’
Nick’s breath caught, his hands itching to grab at Rowan, to pull him closer, but he held his ground, his smirk never faltering. ‘Then stop growling and start proving it,’ he taunted, his voice dripping with defiance.
In an instant, Rowan’s hands were on him, rough and possessive, pulling Nick against his hard, unyielding frame. The camera fell to the forest floor with a soft thud as their mouths crashed together, all teeth and heat and desperate need. Nick’s fingers tangled in Rowan’s wild hair, tugging hard as a moan escaped him, his body already aching, wet with anticipation. Rowan’s growl deepened, his hands sliding down to grip Nick’s ass, pulling him closer, the friction of their bodies igniting a fire that threatened to consume them both under the watchful gaze of the full moon.
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