Those beautiful eyes stared back at him in wonder, studying him in the most delicious way. The attention made his skin tight and his blood boil with lust. The pale blue moonlight reflected back at him in those eyes.
"Is anyone there?"
Those eyes disappeared for a moment, and disappointment caused his heart to sink. They reappeared on the other side of the forestry on the face of a gorgeous mystical woman.
She stood a mere five feet tall, but even at her meager height she held an enormous amount of power in her posture. Her pale skin made her eyes appear to glow a vibrant shade of violet, her lips look almost bloodstained, and her features sharp and elegant surrounded by a curtain of ebony black hair. She wore a silvery steel set of armour that accented her figure. Michael couldnt help but stare.
"I'm sorry if I disturbed you," she said after a moment and he swallowed before speaking. "No bother, ma'am. Just frightened me is all." He watched her as she took quick calculated steps forward with a quirky grin on her face. Her armour clung to her form, making him wonder where she got such an antique set. She glanced down and flushed a dull pink, gesturing to her outfit.
"Sorry, I dont stick to modern normalcies. I'm patrolling my land." Her eyes watched him as though she expected him to understand. Almost instinctively, he smiled and took a step forward and offered her his hand. "No worries. It's a bit abnormal, and most definitely outdated, but it's beautiful on you. My name is Michael."
He watched as she silently tried the name on her tongue, as if she wanted to taste each letter before she said it, then she laughed. It was a symphonic experience, her laugh. Light and magical, with a slight hint of mystery. She stops a moment, caught in her thoughts. The expression on her face worried him, as though she was contemplating the existence of life itself. He watched silently, then cleared his throat to speak.
"Are you alright?"
She shook her head, as if she were an animal shaking water from its fur after a long rain, then looked up at him and smiled.
"Oh, yes. I'm Alanna. Alanna Niguel." Her smile reflected the light of the moon, its beauty reflecting back at him through her radiance. It was almost a heart stopping sight, but he caught himself before he started to drool, reaching out to shake her hand. He noticed the bramble that had decided to claim her, leaving strands of itself all over her body. Attempting to hold back a chuckle, he pulled a twig from her hair and picked leaves off of the bodice of steel around her torso.
Michael's efforts were rewarded by another flush of pale pink along her cheeks as she looked to her feet. "How embarrassing," she giggleed, almost to herself. "What an impression I must make."
Her smile and the intense pressure tugging at his heart and lungs longed for him to lean in and kiss her. He stared at her quirked lips, feeling himself being drawn in closer and closer. There was a shout from behind followed by laughter, the sound startled him from his trance. She appeared not to notice his advance, so when she looked up he offered his most charming smile and shook his head.
"It was nice meeting you, Alanna, but I have to go."
He watched the fire ignited in her eyes flicker as he walked away, helping as many people as he could along the trail. The further away he walked, the more intense the sinking, longing feeling in his stomach got. After a few moments, he looked back to see her continuing her walk. He couldnt help but admire her beauty from afar, but soon enough she disappeared from view.
He finished the tour and headed home, walking toward his personal cabin. The dark oak wood accented the patches of black orchids and lilies he had planted in the front garden along the porch. The crickets chirp happily in the night underneath the bright moon. He smiled to himself, thinking of the woman by the lake.
Alanna.
What a beautiful woman. She left a burning fire within him, a flame that was merely a flicker and now is a raging heat. His mind wandered to the woman as he made his way into the front door and locking it, wondering what the rest of her skin would look like flushed with desire.
Hunger rumbled deep in his belly, making its agitation known with a loud growl. The kitchen he had was decent, large enough to allow a man of his size and stature to move around. The cabinets were made of the same dark oak as the cabin walls with ancient knobs decorated in copper. The black french door fridge threw his smiling reflection back at him, the crackling of a low burning flame in his preferred wood burning stove filled his ears. He finally decided on steak and garlic potatoes for dinner. Silence filled his ears outside of the mundane calming sounds that filled the kitchen as he cooked.
When he sat down to eat, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and devoured his medium rare ribeye. The only thoughts he had on his mind were not about food or about the pack or his coronation as Alpha. His thoughts were no longer where they are supposed to be. Even when he tried, his mind still wandered to the mysterious Alanna beside the lake.
How would her hair feel wrapped around his fingers? Would her skin flush pink when he touched her? What would her lips taste like and what would her moans sound like? The sound of shattering glass filled the air and his hand burned from the alcohol that entered the wound. That damned woman was plaguing his mind.
In attempt to clear his thoughts, Michael poured himself another glass of whiskey and went into his office to complete paperwork and oversee the plans for his coronation. Even with his distracted mind, thoughts of Alanna creeped into his mind, making him uncomfortably stiff in his jeans.
Eventually, Michael gave up. He took himself in his hand, and released all of the tension built in his body to the single memory of Alanna and the workings of his imagination.