THE CURSED MATE'S RETURN

g the ground, cast by the dancing flames of the bonfire burning at the center of the clearing. A sound of laughter and music swirl

f. She was near enough to hear the laughter and cheer, to see the smiles, to feel the sense of camaraderi

ry long time ago. Because she kne

o her: an unwanted outcast. Daughters of dead warriors who were murdered under suspicious circumstances, she had always lived with the weight of those suspic

r father a strong warrior, her mother a healer with a gift. Their death had not been natural,

ey had made

om sparring. Among them was the future Alpha; Eamon. Golden hair blazed in the light of fire

up to him but no

ken it upon himself to make sure she knew her pla

arriors grumbled under his breath;

ay, knowing wh

, his voice mocking, the smirk in the night cutting like a bla

ad fists clenched at her sides, her nails deep into her p

n-down hut she called home. It wasn't much-just four walls and a roof, barely holding tog

k onto the little cot, staring up through the wooden ceiling above her. Was she to be foreve

he world meant for her. Among the wolves of her pack, it came without effort: finding their mates called to them as if the very bond that co

e alone for eternity? A harsh laugh escaped her lips.

her sit up, her body tensing. Her

Gwen rose more slowly, her breathing even, her muscles curled. She wasn't a warrior, hadn't been trained like the others, but she knew how to survive. Sh

t it was his eyes that held her captive. Gold. Not the golden green of Eamon's, but true gold, glowing faintly beneath the moonlight. Not of her pack. Gwen's breath caught. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but her bod

pounded, her wolf howling in

in his gaze-something dark, something possessive. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension, with incredulity.

known, everything she had ever believed, crumble

tensity that seemed to wrap itself around her like a storm,

as nev

this

s dan