To Marry a Monster
PINKMamathe omega he rejected, the white wolf he cravesi am his wolfless lunathe alpha king and his wolfless lunabeing the lycan queen, claiming by the alpha
“Inspect the tableware, Chika.”
Confused by his focus on the porcelain, I stepped to the mahogany edge and picked up a heavy, custom-fired ceramic bowl. To my absolute disbelief, an elite graphic artist had printed a stylized, sharp-chinned cartoon image of my wolf form—complete with my distinct silver-tinted fur and arrogant scowl—directly onto the glaze of every plate and vessel. Thinking my vision was playing tricks due to the concussion, I picked up a platter, inspecting the border work three times.
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