The Wolf King was wrong. I’m not a feral. I’m his mate.
I’d walk away from him and never look back, but the murders on my campus still need solving, and I’m striking out on my own.
So we agree a deal. I’ll help him get rid of an unwanted guest, and he’ll play bait to lure out whoever has been killing all the men in my life.
I would never have agreed to this arrangement if I’d known we’d be sharing a bed.
I’ve always been on my own, through foster care and then after. As I learn more about what it means to have a pack, I struggle to remember why I need to leave. For the first time, I feel like I belong.
Then, my world changes all over again. I thought I knew who I was. I was wrong. All this time, I was wrong.