She was brutal. She wanted blood. She was a monster.
A monster that I created.
This story is not about the rejected mate winning her true love back.
This is about the rejected mate on the hunt for his blood - even if it grows deadly.
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It's over. This battle was won. Perhaps not the war, but this was a success. I turned back to my beta, eyes on him. My wolf knew not a name, only a scent and a ranking of power. My human mind somehow knew his name, but the wolf never spoke in names.
His head lowered and ears flattened, but he was still growling slightly.
My wolf bent down with him and offered him a gesture of gratitude and approval.
