Bryson Fairbanks lives where it's hot, humid, and nobody cares anymore. He lives where the water is green and where, thanks to a few popular books of wild fantasy, the world holds newfound love for supernaturals like himself.
In a nutshell, Bryson lives in a world where everything is fantasy and nothing is real. Werewolves and vampires now cater to the whimsy of humans, biting and clawing their way to the top by playing pretend off girlish fantasy books. And what's worse, some of them are actually starting to believe in their play-acting.
Bryson Fairbanks is a werewolf that lives in a world where no one remembers or cares for tradition, and no one respects those that came before them.
But he also lives in the same world as Amelia Brand, and somehow, that makes everything alright.
"I don't want you to mark me" I said quickly.
"Why?" he asked me, his tone seemed calm but i knew he was far from it.
"I have a commitment towards my pack" I told him, hoping he'll understand but to my astonishment his eyes were dark now and he held his palms in a tight fist.
"You are my mate Templar, you belong to my pack" he said in a condescending tone. My blood boiled at the tone he was using with me. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody.
"Do not use that tone with me, Everett. You are not my Alpha, I respond to-" none, i was about to say, but had to bite my tongue to change that.
I was not ready to tell him that I'm the sole White Shifter, not ready to tell him I'm The Alpha of my pack. So i lied, again.