The night air was thick with tension as you navigated the deserted streets, the recent revelations weighing heavily on your mind. Becoming a werewolf's mate—Bangchan’s mate—was the last thing you had expected.

Bangchan had been relentless, speaking of a bond that ran deeper than anything you could comprehend. But you were too shocked to grasp the magnitude of his words, your thoughts tangled in disbelief.

Bangchan, the city’s most influential CEO, a werewolf? The notion was absurd. You knew they existed, lurking in the shadows of myth, but you had believed they were either in hiding or eradicated by hunters long ago. Yet here you were, grappling with the knowledge that not only were they real, but that Bangchan was one of them.

Distracted by your tumultuous thoughts, you failed to notice the encroaching shadows until it was too late. Rogue werewolves emerged from the darkness, their eyes gleaming with malevolent intent as they cut off any possible escape.

Before panic could set in, a familiar figure materialized—Bangchan.

His presence was commanding, the air around him charged with raw power. Without hesitation, he launched into the fray, his movements a blur of lethal precision. The fight was brutal, a storm of violence that left the alley streaked with crimson.

One rogue ventured too close to you, a low growl escaping its lips. In an instant, Bangchan intercepted it, his voice low and menacing, cutting through the chaos.

“Touch her, and I will tear you apart piece by piece.”

It wasn’t a threat; it was a promise. The rogue had no time to react before Bangchan’s claws silenced it for good, its blood pooling at his feet.

The battle raged on until the last of the rogues lay defeated. Bangchan stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, yet his posture remained unyielding, almost regal. Blood dripped from deep scratches on his bare back, his body mottled with bruises, but his eyes were focused solely on you.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low, carrying the weight of his concern.