My Mate: No Regret, No Return
I was sitting in City Hall, about to sign that damn mate bond certificate with Logan—Alpha of the Eastside Moonclaws—when his phone buzzed.
One glance.
Then he stood up like this was all just another errand.
Didn’t even flinch when he said:
“Something came up. Let’s push the bond signing to another day, yeah?”
And just like that, he was gone.
Left me sitting alone, surrounded by bonded pairs, all glowing with that sickly sweet “forever” vibe.
Why?
Because Emma, his darling little childhood packmate, twisted her ankle during pack-speed training—trying to keep up with the advanced wolves when she barely passed the basic shifts.
Ten minutes later, I get a text:
“Emma’s injury’s kinda serious. I