Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King
I suspect Loki expected Erik to lay claim to me and my wonderful lover has taken the wind from his sails.
Then Loki nods slowly. “So she is.” For a moment, the silence stretches. Then he moves. Too fast for me to react.
He’s in front of me, fingertips grazing my temple, and I freeze. Not in fear, but recognition. His power touches mine, and I feel it again, that strange sense of familiarity. Of fate.
“I won’t let the world take what’s mine,” he says softly. I reach for my magic, but I’m too slow.
Loki vanishes in a pulse of green and gold, leaving only heat behind, and the last of the constructs crumble into smoke.
Bab Populer