THE ALPHAS FATED MATE
I was studying every inch of the she-wolf standing behind my mate.
Ayla was taller than me, and looked longer, leaner. Her silky dark hair looked like strands of fine glass and had been plaited neatly down her back, with a few stray curls framing her face and her eyes looked like beautifully cut pieces of obsidian. She wore a simple white vest, tucked into high-waisted black sweatpants (and I immediately noticed her hardened perky nipples from behind the vest), with a simple gold necklace adorning her throat. Her skin was tanned, giving away the hours I likely spent in the sun, and honestly?