The Tyrant alpha
A stripper Snow White in mismatched secondhand clothes.
And she blushes like crazy. Not just her cheeks, but her whole face, neck, chest, everything visible. Even the tips of ears. She smells like mulling spices—cloves, cardamon, and star anise.
She seems reserved. At least she’s not as vulgar as the usual scavenger.
I never noticed her before. It seems impossible—like having never looked up at the sky. Biology is powerful, and it sucks as a matchmaker.
My mate is a scavenger. A thief. One of Moon Lake Pack’s unsolvable social problems. And if I claim her, I’ll give Alban Hughes’ followers a reason to believe that my father and I intend to mess with the hierarchy as he’s been claiming for ye
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