A Werewolf's True Mate
In their eagerness to torment me, they nearly caused me to tumble down the ceremonial steps.
As I fought to maintain my balance, certain I would fall and add physical injury to my public humiliation, a powerful presence materialized behind me.
Strong arms enveloped me, and the unmistakable scent of pine forests after rainfall—mixed with the distinctive musk of an alpha wolf—enveloped my senses.
"Forgive my tardiness, my mate," a deep voice rumbled against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
I turned to find myself looking into the intense amber eyes of Dominic Blackthorn, resplendent in ceremonial white attire that matched my own, with the traditional alpha's silver rune pinned to his che