Leonidas

She was so tiny, just a fragile human. Leonidas couldn't stop looking at her. The dingy bar was nowhere a women like her should be, and her tiny body looked so out of place. She was the color of pastel pink, delicate yet vibrant.

By the way the men reacted around her, she was here often. They teased and poked at fun her, hit on her, and made his wolf fester like an open wound at how they treated their mate. She was his. She was his mate.

She was scared by the ominous stranger sitting in the corner booth, but she had to serve him no matter what. She needed the money, desperately. But with one look into his eyes, she knew he wasn't normal, wasn't human. He certainly wasn't of this world, and everyone knew it. He was red, the color of his enemy's blood, filthy and ravenous.

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In which a god cursed to live among wolves is saved by a tiny human.