Counter-curse

In the Alpha's quarters, Dahmer lounged comfortably against the headboard of the grand bed, surrounded by four stunning northern women draped in sheer transparent fabrics.

The room was his personal chamber, granted to him since he had followed the king, and he wasted no time indulging in its luxuries.

The women fawned over him, their laughter mingling with soft giggles as they clung to his every word. He had promised to come and get them once he rebuilt his pack, and to the women of the North, any man was better than their Alpha.

One of them straddled his legs, her lips locking with his in a heated, lustful kiss, while his hands roamed freely over her body, cupping her breast with an air of entitlement.