Matpat Springtrap Mpreg Novels & Stories

"Auntie, hasn't Aria arrived yet? Has she... replied to your messages?" Aria's mother slowly looked up, her bloodshot eyes filled with despair and pain. "Connor, there's something... I think you should know." Her voice was dry and hoarse, as if she'd aged ten years overnight. "Aria... she might not be able to make it today. Three days ago, she submitted a request to permanently sever the mate bond and remove her scent mark. She was on that flight overseas this morning... I've been watching the news. That plane... it just crashed..."

She spun, knife up, searching the dark. “The next one won’t be,” she warned. “I hope not,” I murmured, stepping easily over her trap. “I’d hate to be disappointed in my future mate.” Her knife flashed through the air. I caught it by the handle, the blade halting inches from my cheek. The silence let me enjoy the weight of it in my hand... well-balanced, sharp, wrapped in weathered leather. Mara’s mark was carved near the base: a crescent moon and three lines. Old rebellion. Old blood. She’d likely never told Maeve what it meant.