The Fated Mate Rebellion
My wolf didn’t just wake up; he detonated.
MATE.
The word cracked through my mind like gunfire, shattering fourteen years of numbness. I clamped the cot so hard the metal groaned, and my knuckles went white. My breath came out ragged, my chest pounding like it was about to break through my ribs.
No. God, hell no, this couldn't be real.
I never had a mate. I was the monster, the killer with a body count. I’d stopped counting, and people like me didn’t get mates. The universe wasn’t that twisted.