In the forest clearing, a violent gale kicked up from nowhere.
The moment Charlotte threw her arms around Ragnar, 520''s voice began blaring in her mind.
Ragnar's body was as hard as cold-rolled steel. His claws instinctively raked across her back, drawing blood, but the second he caught that scent—the chilling, regal aroma of a high-tier White Wolf Alpha—his movements ground to a jarring, violent halt.
It was a primal standoff. Ragnar nuzzled her neck like a wild beast, teeth grazing her scent gland with a threatening low growl that bled into a piteous, needy whimper.
"Want it?" she whispered, her hand sliding over his broad chest. Her eyes glinted with a mix of mockery and pure temptation, leaning heavily toward the latter.
She intentionally released a faint pulse of disruptive hormones, shattering what was left of Ragnar's grip on reality.
Ragnar suddenly pinned her into the tall grass, slamming her wrists above her head. He leaned down, his gaze burning with a heat that could melt lead.
His movements were raw and unrefined, with the raw, predatory hunger of a True Alpha claiming unclaimed wilds.
Yet every time his heavy breath drew close, every time he moved to deliver the final mating mark, she used a subtle shift of her body or a perfectly timed, affectionate stroke to slip away.
She left him grasping at air, driven wild by a hunger he couldn't satisfy.
This ultimate game of push-and-pull nearly broke the Black Wolf King, the clan's fiercest warrior. He had never encountered a female like this—right there in his arms, yet as untouchable and elusive as moonlight.
"Damn you... who the hell *are* you..." Ragnar groaned.
The jagged, frantic pulse of power coursing through his veins seemed to find a conduit through her skin, flowing into Charlotte only to be neutralized by her icy, composed aura.
She leaned down, her lips brushing against his scarred earlobe. "I'm the woman who can put you on the throne—and the only one who can keep you alive. So, Ragnar, will you bow to me, or will you burn in your own madness?"
As their energies merged, the blood-red fog in Ragnar's eyes began to recede, replaced by a sharp, piercing clarity born of absolute possessiveness. He lunged forward, sinking his teeth into her shoulder and leaving a bloody mark of his own.
"You win," Ragnar growled, his arms locking around her waist like iron bands. His voice was pure command—a king's vow to his mate.
"But from this second on, you're my LUNA. Every leaf and blade of grass in the Black Wolf territory will be watching you. You aren't going *anywhere*."
He aggressively marked her with his scent, staking his claim for the whole world to see.
[Ding! Massive emotional fluctuation detected in Ragnar! Favorability unlocked: +55%. Total Progress: 55%!]
The Black Wolf fortress loomed, grim and imposing.
"And this is your idea of 'protection'?" Charlotte gestured toward the two fully armed sentries at her bedroom door, shotting a cold look at at the man looming behind her.
Ragnar stood shirtless, his muscled chest still bearing the faint scratches from the previous night's battle of wills.
He draped a heavy cloak of pure fox fur over her shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a paranoid protectiveness.
"My lands are secure, but there's no telling if Valeria has hired assassins to slip through. Stay here. I'll give you anything your heart desires."
"I want power, not a gilded cage." Her gaze turned stone-cold.
"Then show me you've got the guts to walk out that door," Ragnar challenged, his massive hand reaching for her.
In a blur, Charlotte moved. She didn't rely on werewolf brute force; instead, she used an ancient Black Wolf close-quarters combat style the original owner had mastered through years of training.
She slipped under Ragnar's arm like a shadow and jammed her fingertips precisely into the pressure point just below his collarbone.
Ragnar faltered, stunned by the unorthodox technique.
They traded blows in the cramped bedroom,t he air slicing with the force of their strikes.
Finally, using his own momentum against him, Charlotte executed a flawless over-the-shoulder throw, pinning the titan beneath her with a blade pressed against his Adam's apple.
"Do you want a toy to breed pups, or a true sovereign who can unite the clans and fix whatever is rotting in your body?" Charlotte looked down at him, her dark hair falling across his face.
His heart thundered in his chest as he looked up at her—wild, fierce, and utterly in control.
"How?" he rasped. "How do you fix me?"
Charlotte stood up and projected a stream of blue data from the cutting-edge mobile terminal on her wrist.
She pointed to a structural diagram of the fortress's water supply, her eyes clinical. "The Black Wolves aren't born rabid. Your water supply has been tainted with nanite toxins. In small doses, it just makes a wolf irritable."
"But your genes are too strong, Ragnar. The toxin is clashing with your natural energy, tearing you apart."
"Impossible! Who could poison me under my own nose?" Ragnar roared.
"Seeing is believing." Charlotte led him to the main water tower and tapped a few commands into her terminal.
Under a specific electromagnetic frequency, the once-clear water began to swirl with dark, thread-like filaments—a ghastly substance writhing in the tank.
The surrounding guards recoiled in horror.
Charlotte immediately initiated a water purification and real-time monitoring program, linking it directly to the fortress's security grid.
"The toxin's structure is being neutralized. Once we develop a nanite antidote to flush your systems, the 'Berserker' regressions will haunt your clan no more."
Ragnar was speechless, his world-view tilting.
Around them, the Black Wolf guards erupted into thunderous howls and cheers, saluting her with the clan's highest military honors.
Ragnar's possessiveness was shifting into something much deeper: reverence.
Suddenly, two guards burst into the courtyard. "My Lord! A sea of Brown Wolf enforcers and Grey Wolf medics have been spotted at the perimeter! "
"Edric and Rowan are leading them personally. They're demanding we hand over... their shared mate, their fated Luna!"
Ragnar's face darkened instantly, a murderous glint returning to his eyes. "They've got a death wish. Let's see who's brave enough to try and take what belongs to me!"