Submission is Not My Style
“Didn’t mention your little mate problem. Guess she didn’t want that interfering with her vision for your future.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, jaw tight, the memory flashing—my mother’s voice a few days ago, soft and sweet as poison, urging me to accept Kali’s rejection, to think about the pack’s legacy. I told her I’d think about it. I didn’t think she’d go behind my back like this.
“You know what happens if you don’t show up,” my uncle adds, voice smooth as ever. “The Alpha King doesn’t appreciate being ignored.”
“Fuck off,” I snarl, stepping toward him. “Get the hell out of my office before I break your other leg.”
Bab Populer