Better Left Forgotten (A Werewolf Love Story)

She was like a stray cat that had been left out in the rain. She sulked around in the downpour craving love but met kindness and consideration with scorn. She looked at me as if she had stared death in the face and had somehow found it lacking. That haughty defiant look that was both furious and devastatingly sad all at the same time. One minute she was fierce and angry like a vengeful goddess and the next she was vulnerable and uncertain like a small child. I wanted this complex, beautiful, and enchanting creature. She was mine. My goddess. My vengeful angel. My little warrior. My mate.

He was a whirlwind of shadows and silver. One minute he was laughing at my angry scowl and the next he was staring into my eyes with such tenderness it made all of the anger and bitterness within me to falter. When I tried to push and shove him away from my heart with every ounce of my unlikable personality, it only drew him closer. He never flaunted or made public displays of his raw power, he instead managed it with a quiet calm that was both fierce and untamable. He was so unlike all of the others who flaunted their strength and took pride in their arrogance. He was level headed, collected, and mysterious making that dark aura that surrounded him chillingly powerful. He was infuriating. He was intriguing. He made my soul sing. He was my mate.