A Night of Passion

Mao Xia released a calming scent, hoping the scent of spring rain would transfer from Zhan Sheng's coat to Mao Xia's flesh and calm the alpha down. They had been confined to close quarters for weeks and it wasn't unusual for alphas to go into stress-induced ruts, like omegas that went into stress-induced heats. And yet… Mao Xia shivered. No. They can't.

Zhan Sheng loved Lei Bo. He was his mate.

But Lei Bo is dead. A voice whispered to him. Just one night. Only one night.

"M-my lord, please—"

Zhan Sheng's large head dipped, and his snout nudged Mao Xia's torso, huffing hot breaths across the naked skin there where the rags he wore had been torn open. He whimpered when Zhan Sheng's rough tongue licked the dimples in his back to catch the droplets of sweat before they fell over the slopes of his waist. He knew what Zhan Sheng was asking—what he wanted.

"Please—master—"