Not My Mate, Not This Time
When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate.
Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King.
Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore.
Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore.
I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate.
In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King.
But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and
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