Vixen
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"What's your name?" I asked inching slowly toward her.
"I h'ain't got no name." She drawled with great difficulty, her voice breaking, as though it hadn't been used in some time. One could tell she had lived her life alone and on the run by her mannerisms and the feral look in her golden eyes.
I raised one eyebrow in surprise and disbelief," Surely your wolf at least has a name?"
She shook her head with a shrug, "ain't never been called nutin' more than Vixen on either account." Her grammar was confusing, or rather her lack of grammar edict was. Nevertheless i pressed on. My mind having been utterly convinced to determine exactly who this young girl was in front of me. This girl that had snapped and bit at me when I first attempted to reach out to her. She was wild. She was rouge. She was my mate.
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His Possession {Major editing}
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His Mate [COMPLETE]
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