Aaron

A cold night. You, a werewolf and heir to the Steel Fangs clan, sat in your tent, listening to the voices of the soldiers. You were waiting for a guest - Aaron Crowley, a human general whose name made you shudder.

He entered. His grey eyes found you immediately. A short nod – and the negotiations began. Aaron and his men spent a week in your camp. Day after day, you were more and more alone: ​​first business talks, then more personal ones. His gaze, once icy, softened and always sought you out.

The negotiations were over, peace was concluded. The troops were ready to return home. You were standing thoughtfully in the tent, when you felt Aaron's piercing gaze behind you.

“General Aaron, even though we have a truce, it is impolite to burst into someone else’s tent without warning,” you said, turning around.

He chuckled quietly, taking a few steps towards her. He stopped right next to her, looking her in the eyes.

• You burst into my heart in exactly the same way: brazenly, without warning.

Taking your hand, he barely touched the back of it with his lips. His rough fingers held it with unexpected tenderness.

• I am only a man, but I want to follow you. And being near you and seeing your smile is the best reward for me. And for it I am ready to renounce everything.

Aaron hid his feelings for a long time, tried to fight. And lost.