My little fierce mate
They called me wolf less. Weak. Worthless.
In the Bloodstone Pack, that’s as good as a death sentence—except mine has been slow, drawn out in whispers, cold stares, and the sharp edges of my family’s contempt. My mate, the one the Moon Goddess chose for me, humiliated me in front of the entire pack before turning his back.
So I did what no one expected. I left.
One reckless night in a bar far from home, I met a stranger with eyes like winter storms. I should have walked away, but pain has a way of making you reckless—and desire has a way of making you forget. By morning, I was gone, certain I’d never see him again.
But fate is cruel and relentless. The stranger was no ordinary wolf
Bab Populer