Wilheim stared at a small pudgy face with growing distain. There was no way in hell this was his destined mate. What had the gods been thinking! One-shot.

Molly gasped in terror when he leaned into her face. "What do you want?" Wulf leaned into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. "I want you, and only you," he growled possessively, his attention taken over by his obsession: a wolf's obsession.