Wild Mate Chapter 1 Preview

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COPYRIGHT

WILD MATE

Misti Wilds asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems and AI programs, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter 1 (Sienna)

Only the desperate enroll in Heartsflame Academy. Unfortunately for me, not only am I included among those ranks, but I’m wearing the crown for most desperate candidate to ever grace the entrance trials. If the council doesn’t accept me, I’ll die by their hands once they learn my secret. But if they do allow me to enroll . . . nothing will stop me from securing my place in a shifter pack.

As I step into the main courtyard, I leave my solitary life behind and surround myself with strangers. Magical beings of all kinds hover in groups against the flurrying snow, the most prominent of them being shifters huddled beside their packmates. Vampires linger in the shadows, a few dozen witches whisper among themselves, and a surprising amount of merfolk gather the moisture in the air to collectively moisten the scales dotting their skin. Despite their many differences, all are tasked with the same objectives: enroll at Heartsflame, claim a mate, and survive longer together than you would alone. In theory, these tasks are simple. In practice, they’re much harder to achieve as populations decline and the magic that holds the realm together weakens. But no one likes to talk about such miserable tidings; instead, we focus on what we can achieve.

Fighting tooth and nail for our own scraps of happiness.

I draw a quick breath and immediately regret it. My nose crinkles at the cacophony of scents mingling in such tight quarters. The open air may as well be a mirage; there’s so much tension that it lingers like a fog. I cross my arms and drum my fingertips to keep from pacing, not used to the crowd but not willing to leave. I need this academy as much as the next person, though for different reasons.

Unlike the masses, I’m not desperate to take a mate. Been there, tried that, had my heart ripped out on a lie that still aches when I wake in the morning, alone, no longer naive to the comforts of a lover.

I’m not willingly going down that path again.

Heartsflame Academy, for all its bluster about helping students find perfect mates, is first and foremost an academy; those who graduate at the top of their class are granted special privileges among society—privileges that a packless shifter like me needs if I’m going to survive a magicless world without taking a mate. It’s all part of my plan.

Forget about my lying ex-boyfriend.

Graduate at the top of the shifter class.

Join a pack of my choosing without taking a mate.

With how every sane shifter avoids me, that last part should be the easiest. No one wants to mate with a wolf who’s been living in the wilds for the past decade . . . unless you’re my ex. I ignore the sudden stab of pain in my chest and stare at the line of script carved into the stone arch over the academy’s massive oak doors, knowing what it says despite being unable to read the ancient tongue.

To be unmated is to die.

Whoever chose that as the academy’s doctrine is one tormented bastard.

On my way to the front of the crowd, I shoulder past a young man openly gaping at the scene, his breath billowing out in an icy haze. He grabs my arm to steady himself, and I can’t hide a growl as his scent washes over me. Witch. Young. Nervous. Likely going to die within the next hour, if my intel is correct about the barbarity of the academy’s entrance trials. He unlatches his frozen fingers and stutters through an apology, the fuzzy orange curls stacked on his head somehow covered in more snow than the stones at our feet. Ice crystals cling to his lashes, and I stare at his pale complexion, wondering when he’ll finally turn blue and keel over.

A corpse means one less competitor for a coveted spot in this year’s graduating class. If only I were so lucky.

“Are you alright?” he asks, frowning as he scans my face. “Your eyes—they’re glowing.”

I quickly turn away. It’s useless to hide when every shifter in the courtyard can smell me, but having one fewer set of accusing eyes can’t hurt. If this boy doesn’t know what makes me different from other shifters, there’s hope that the others won’t know, either. Ignoring him, I put distance between myself and the other candidates, determined not to get distracted.

The one thing I can’t afford is making a careless mistake that gets me killed.

Once I find a vacant spot away from the others, a man approaches the edge of the balcony overlooking this year’s entrants. At first glance, he appears human. Lean muscle clings to his frame, and whatever power he holds is suppressed so that no one can get a read on him. That alone proves that he’s stronger than he looks; only the most elite creatures can hide their talents.

A predator among prey.

A flicker of heat crackling through the air gives him away as his ancient eyes smolder like liquid sunlight. Bronze scales appear down the lengths of his arms and along the curve of his neck, blending seamlessly with his skin. The white hair sweeping down his back darkens with auburn streaks, and his smile becomes a flash of sharp teeth as he surveys the crowd below. He’s a dragon shifter—one of the last, if the rumors are true. The only headmaster that Heartsflame Academy has seen in its thousand-year history.

Taking a breath, he addresses the academy’s latest hopefuls. “Welcome to Heartsflame. If you prove your value in the opening trials, you will stand among the magical elite.” He sweeps his arms out and gestures toward the perimeter of the amphitheater, where the most powerful of our species begin judgement of this year’s prospects. I’m under no illusion that I haven’t already been identified; an alpha can smell the wilds on me long before I’ve entered a room. There are only a handful of packless wolves in existence—and only one female.

The headmaster continues, though I’m no longer listening. I scan the other hopefuls around me to gauge their powers and plan an attack. Although Heartsflame isn’t a military academy, I’m under no illusion that claiming one of the coveted entrance spots comes without bloodshed. Luckily for me, I’m at an advantage among the others: I’m a wolf among sheep.

A nervous girl—merfolk, judging by the pearls woven through her damp hair—shifts her weight as she glances around. The person standing beside her—another one of her kind, judging by the smell—presses their shoulders together and murmurs words of encouragement in her ear. Neither are dressed for winter with far too much skin on display, but the depths of the ocean are likely as cold as fallen snow. I stare far longer than I should as their fingers interlock and they stand tall, suddenly unwavering in their resolve. They’re entering the trials together, hopeful to double their odds of admittance, and a thread of longing stirs inside my heart for a partner of my own. Someone to watch my back while I watch theirs. A confidant. A friend.

A lover.

Glowing silver eyes and a wolfish grin flash to the forefront of my mind, and I grit my teeth against the memory, refusing to acknowledge the unsteady beat of my heart and the ache blooming within its depths.

Get a fucking grip, Sienna.

The headmaster claps his hands once to gather everyone’s attention. “We begin immediately.” A glowing orb of white light appears at the highest peak in the sky, imitating the glow of the sun. “You have until the light disappears to earn your place at Heartsflame. At any time throughout the trials, if you pass, you will be immediately removed and transported to the boundary line to watch the remaining applicants . . . and your potential mates.”

Excitement ripples through the crowd. My shoulders tense. I’m not keen on being watched by a hundred sets of eyes at once, but for the others, it’s a prime opportunity to showcase their skills and assets—physical or otherwise. I roll my eyes as a blonde shifter waves flirtatiously and pushes her tits out toward a group of shifter males assessing the competition.

She’s definitely a wolf seeking her mate.

My gaze wanders to the men, and I lock eyes with one of them. A jolt of electricity shoots down my spine. He inhales so sharply that his eyes flash, turning vibrant gold as his wolf instincts take over. I break out into a sweat that drips down my back, heart hammering as I drink in his appearance. Wavy autumn locks kiss his temples. High cheekbones, strong jaw, freckled skin. Sculpted muscle clings to limbs wrapped in the most decadent shade of teal I’ve ever seen—a sign of wealth, same as the insignia embroidered in gold just beneath his lapel.

A mountain range dipped in sunlight, its threads sparkling as he turns his body toward me. The emblem of the strongest pack in the realm—the same pack actively trying to kill me. Dire wolves.

I’ve caught the attention of its heir.

Fuck me.

I take a step back as an inferno burns through my veins. There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere near the Dire pack. Quickly turning away, I break eye contact and weave through the crowd until I put enough distance between us that the wintry air cools the fire in my lungs. My heartbeat thunders as I catch my breath.

“A final word of caution.” The headmaster’s eyes twinkle as I look up. The warmth burning through his eyes pierces my chest, dispelling the cold I desperately crave. Thankfully, he moves on, scanning the crowd until he meets every gaze at least once. A few vampires standing nearby hiss, likely feeling the same warmth he radiates. Then a sudden burst of protests rises as someone pushes through the crowd, rapidly moving closer and growling at people to move. I flinch so hard that the witch beside me does too, frowning as I shove past her to put more distance between myself and the Dire pack heir.

If he’s coming after me now, there’s no telling what he’ll do once the trials begin.

The headmaster’s voice drowns out my frantic heartbeat. “Although these trials simulate what you may experience in the wilds, the dangers within are real. If you feel pain, if you bleed, if you die . . .” A tendril of smoke curls past his lips as the headmaster smiles. “There is no coming back.”

All of a sudden, the courtyard disappears in a cloud of smoke, immediately replacing harsh winter with a soft, glowing summer in a grassy meadow surrounded by thick woods. I gasp and calm my panicked heartbeat by willpower alone, my mind reeling as I whip my head around to get my bearings. Butterflies and other insects flutter in the breeze, aimlessly bumbling to and fro. I smack one with my palm, and it whizzes into the grass. Its weight felt real against my hand. Either we’ve been transported into the wilds, or the academy’s simulation is made from powerful magic. Even the scents in the air—summery sunlight and dry dust—taste genuine on my tongue.

I know better than to trust it, but I curse my senses for failing to recognize the difference between reality and dreams. It means that anything in here could be an illusion . . . or it could be trying to kill me. Taking a breath, I turn my face toward the brilliant blue sky. The white ball of light mimics the sun and shines brightly overhead, illuminating my surroundings with blinding clarity.

All I need to do is prove that I’m a capable shifter worthy of enrollment, and the illusion will fade.

My jaw clenches. The odds are stacked against me if only the alpha shifters vote on shifter candidates. They’ll never let me in unless I save one of their precious pack members, and even then, nothing is guaranteed.

But I have to try.

The tall grass rustles as I move swiftly through the field. I don’t sense any danger, but that means absolutely nothing in the wilds. Danger lurks within every shadow and whisper of wind. You never know what’s lurking just beyond reach, waiting to strike when your guard is down.

My parents didn’t raise me to fight, but after their deaths, I learned how to survive from the best damn wolf shifter out there. What my pack didn’t teach me, my ex-boyfriend Revyn did. I’m a wolf—a small one, but a wolf nonetheless. Wolves are hunters . . . but I’m not the only one in this competition.

I need to be careful, or I’ll end up dead.

Voices carry on the wind, and I duck into the grass as I move in their direction. At the edge of the meadow, just past the tree line, three females surround a pale boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen, trapped with his back against a tree trunk. He hisses at them, baring sharp fangs, but doesn’t move closer to strike or attempt to flee. Blood red eyes flick between the three girls’ throats, the boy likely picturing his teeth sinking into their flesh.

“I’ve never seen a vampire before,” one of the women drawls. “I thought they’d be more—I don’t know.” Her nose crinkles. “Sexy.”

The blonde at the center crosses her arms over her ample chest. I recognize her as the shifter ogling the Dire pack wolves. “You’re not gonna mate with a fanger, so what does it matter?”

The brunette at her side takes a step closer to inspect the vampire, assessing him like she would a new purchase. “Everyone says that a vampire bite is better than sex. I want to know if it’s true.” She flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, and I get a whiff of her scent.

Shifter, just like the blonde. I bet they’re all shifters, but which kind?

Would I be unlucky enough to run into three wolves at the start?

“I’m not letting him bite me,” the final woman huffs, the shortest of the three. “I bet he’d try to turn me into some kind of freak hybrid.”

“Hybrids don’t exist, Laura.”

“Yeah, well—” Something slithers over her foot, and she shrieks. “Ohmygod! Get it off me!”

I roll my eyes as Laura, the short one, shakes her leg, but the slimy creature doesn’t dislodge. As it expands and doubles in size to engulf her foot, its stench hits me, wet like leaves stuck to the earth after a storm, a hint of decay hiding underneath. It’s a common nuisance in the thickest forests of the wilds, but these women likely don’t venture outside pack territory. A quick wash would scrub it right off . . . if we were near a body of water. Laura’s boot sizzles as the creature’s slime eats through it. Her eyes flash green and she shifts into a doe, ripping her clothes as her limbs snap and twist. Her transformation is fast—meaning that she comes from a powerful line despite her weak form—and she kicks all four legs as soon as she can, leaping into the air to buck the creature off. It grows rapidly, undeterred as it consumes her hoof within seconds. Her shrill cry pierces the air as she stomps and digs her hooves into the earth, but the black slime continues to swell, crawling up her leg in record time before oozing over her rump. The smell of rotting flesh and fur fills my nose.

Her friends stare in silent horror as Laura falls to the ground with a whimpered cry, her body attempting to shift back to human form but failing. Neither of them lifts a finger to help, both of them frozen in place as Laura dies before their eyes.

The vampire they were mocking sheds from the tree and sneaks up behind them to jump on the brunette’s back. He sinks his fangs into her neck. She shouts, clawing his face as he drinks from her wound. Any injuries he sustains heal rapidly, making her attacks useless. “Get off me, fanger!” His grip tightens as she struggles, digging his sharp nails into her arms until they puncture.

More slime creatures slither through the underbrush and cling to both her feet and ankles, leaving her screaming and her flesh sizzling. “Veronica!” Tears stream down the injured woman’s cheeks as her blonde friend, the only one left unharmed, narrowly dodges and flees to safety. “Don’t leave me!”

The vampire bites over and over again, the wet pull of flesh as he tears off a chunk of her neck bringing his victim a swift death. Her blood sprays and her eyes turn glossy before she collapses, and the vampire, careful to avoid touching the scavenger slimes, disappears in the blink of an eye. The air ripples as magic camouflages every part of him, including his scent.

His victim’s body is quickly consumed beside her friend’s rotting corpse, the slime dissolving them merging to form a single acidic blob.

I swallow the nausea rising to the back of my throat. That is the danger the wilds pose. At any moment, you can be attacked by creatures thriving in the realm’s rotting lands—or worse, plagued by a sickness that eats you from the inside. Forests become hollow shells of bark. Witches choke on their own blood as their ancestral soil turns black as soot. Oceans become acidic and kill the life they once sustained, transforming those too stubborn to die into something unrecognizable. Shifters migrate from sacred lands to shelter their packs, and vampires flee to escape whatever terrors haunt the night.

No one knows when or where the rot began, but we all know how it ends.

Magic won’t survive, and neither will we.

Taking a mate—or joining a pack—isn’t a solution, but it shores up enough power that we can survive another day.

Veronica shifts in the distance, the quick crack of her bones preluding the thud of heavy footfalls as she flees. Another fast shift, like her friend. The three of them must have come from neighboring packs, yet Veronica left them behind without a second glance.

I make a mental note not to join her pack, no matter how desperate I become.

Taking a breath and trying not to gag at the stench of rotting flesh, I listen for any other nearby threats. The black ooze bubbles as it devours its meal, but the only other sounds are the rustle of dry grass in the wind and chirping birds overhead. My shoulders drop as I relax. So long as I’m careful, I should be able to avoid mistakes like theirs, the most damning of which being assuming that a target isn’t dangerous, even if outnumbered. If they hadn’t been distracted by the fledgling vampire, they could have smelt the acidic slime before it got close enough to touch them. Carelessness and overconfidence led to their deaths.

Two traits I don’t wish to inherit.

The wind shifts directions, and the heavy scent of blood washes over me. Shit. The vampire. He didn’t run away like I’d hoped. I listen for him, but without a heartbeat, they’re harder to track. Taking steady breaths, I remain calm and turn around.

He’s standing a few feet away from me.

If it weren’t for the blood smeared across his lips, I wouldn’t know that he’s the same vampire. Taller now, with a fuller body and sharper bone structure. Not a single shred of adolescence hangs from the lean muscle wrapped around his limbs. Thick thighs fill the black slacks hanging from his hips, and his crisp white button-up shirt hugs his torso, its fabric remaining pristine despite his recent meal. Silken hair flows over his shoulders and down his back, longer than mine but a similar dark shade . . . and probably softer to the touch, I’ll admit.

Vampires are notorious for their vanity.

He studies me closely as well, his crimson eyes shimmering like rubies beneath the bright light above. With the pad of his thumb, he wipes a streak of blood from the corner of his lips and offers me a confident smile. “You smell different than the others.” His voice caresses my skin like the softest velvet, and a shiver rolls down my spine.

I shouldn’t meet his gaze, but his eyes glitter unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s hard to look away. “You were a boy moments ago.” The sudden change in his appearance is alarming.

The hairs on my arms rise as he tilts his head to the side. “A parlor trick.” His smile is frozen in place. “Shall I show you?”

“No thanks.” I draw a dagger from my boot and brandish it in front of me. The magic etched within the blade hums as the runes activate, giving its edges a soft yellow glow. “I’m not fond of illusions.” Even the one we’re standing in makes my skin crawl.

“Pity,” the vampire clicks. “They can be so . . .” He ignores the weapon in my hand as his gaze travels down my body. “Diverting.”

Heat pulls at the base of my spine. There’s no mistaking the gleam in his eye. “You like to play with your food,” I guess, tamping down my accelerating heartbeat. I cannot be seduced in the middle of the fucking trials, or I’ll gladly let the earth open up and swallow me whole. “Come at me, and it’ll be your last fucking meal.”

He hums softly, amused. “A taste, then.” Lifting his arm, he taps the small of his wrist. “Here.” His chest expands as he takes a deep breath, drinking in my scent.

I do the same, taking a deep breath and immediately regretting it. He tastes like shadow and smoke, dripping down my throat to fill my lungs. My next breath is shallow as I try to exhale more than I inhale.

His wicked smile curves like the tip of a knife. “Allow me a drop of your blood, and I’ll ensure that you pass the trial.”

Like I’d ever believe that.

Lifting my dagger, I ready myself for a fight. “I’ll pass when I stab you in the heart.” I spend precious seconds trying to evaluate his age and strength, but with his gift for illusion, I can’t trust anything I see. If he’s older than he looks—which is fucking likely—then he may be able to manipulate my other senses.

Everything about him screams danger. My hackles rise as he takes a step forward. “Alright, Wildflower. I won’t bite. But I loathe to leave you alone to the wolves.” His eyes flash as a low growl rumbles to my right. “I have a feeling that he’s here for you instead of me.”

Shitshitshit. I can’t believe I let one target distract me after I chastised the other shifters for the same fucking thing. A rookie mistake. A deadly one. I can’t take my eyes off the vampire, but I focus all my other senses on the threat lurking nearby . . . and my body suddenly ignites.

Revyn.

My infuriatingly stubborn, lied-to-my-face, really fucking hot ex-boyfriend.

The largest wolf I’ve ever seen emerges from the grass, his steps steady and sure as he approaches. Pitch black fur, longer than most other wolves’ coats, flows down his back, but nothing can hide the corded muscles shifting beneath his coat. With teeth bared and a growl rumbling deep in his chest, he glares at the vampire while I desperately cling to my humanity. Being in danger this close to an alpha wolf makes every inch of my body scream to shift, to join the fight, but I can’t. Not here. Not without the revealing that I’m not just wild—

I’m not supposed to exist.

Glowing silver eyes meet mine, and my heart stumbles as Revyn holds my gaze, conveying more in a single glance than he did with full use of his voice the night I left. My chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.

He may love me, but he also betrayed my trust, and my forgiveness isn’t so easily earned.

Once Revyn turns back to the vampire, I fill my lungs to capacity and strain my senses to check that we’re alone. To any judges curious enough to watch, both my behavior and Revyn’s is odd unless you understand that we don’t run with a pack. Lone wolves are territorial by nature, and Revyn . . . the only territory he has is me.

He snaps his jaw as the vampire takes another step in my direction. They stare at each other for a long, silent moment until Revyn lunges. His claws tear the earth as he spins around and suddenly hip-checks me, throwing me aside with ease. I whip through the grass and slam into a wide oak at the edge of the meadow, knocking precious air from my lungs. As I push myself to my feet, my gaze rakes across Revyn’s body. Old habits die hard as I check him for injuries. The silver streak trailing down his spine is the same as I remember, but a thick scar on the meatiest section of his thigh is new . . . because I put it there two seasons ago.

Grabbing my dagger, the same one I used to scar my lover before I left him, I take an unsteady step forward. Revyn’s scent chokes me, and a wave of heat crashes through my system. I haven’t shifted since we broke up. My last run was by his side one misty morning while the leaves turned and the fading summer sun warmed our fur. The memory is bittersweet as I slice through the dry grass and approach.

I won’t let Revyn ruin this chance for me. No matter what he thinks we are to each other, my mind is made up. I’m attending Heartsflame. He can’t stop me—and he definitely can’t force me to be his mate just because he thinks we’re perfect for each other.

As the painfully attractive vampire backsteps away from the alpha wolf, he glances at me with unbridled curiosity, his glittering eyes and sharpened fangs doing nothing to dampen his outrageous sex appeal. His lips curve sinfully, and a delicate slip of his tongue over his teeth makes my heart skip.

Revyn stomps his paw and whines, tossing me a look over his shoulder that lets me know he sensed that—my heart’s little skip.

Twirling my dagger between my fingers, I scoff. “What? I’m not dead.” I brandish my blade high and leap for the vampire, but he disappears in a cloud of smoke. It shimmers and swirls in the false sunlight, turning into an icy caress. Fingertips brush my cheek, a gentle breath tickles my ear, dark laughter dances down my spine.

I hate illusions.

Jabbing the blade downwards, I stab blindly at my side only for the vampire to grab my wrist as he materializes against my back. The blade cuts the bottom edge of his shirt. He tuts. “Careful, darling.” Twisting my wrist at an unnatural angle, he presses the tip beneath my breast. “Death is a jealous lover.” His fanged smile grazes the pulse in my neck. “Like your wolf.”

Revyn’s heavy growl rumbles, the sound reverberating through my chest like it belongs to me. I gasp as my body reacts, something inside my gut twisting as it attempts to shift. No. I wrench my wrist free and slice my chest in the process, the pain barely registering over my panic. If I shift, the elders, the alphas, the headmaster—they’ll never let me into the academy. Alpha Dire would find a reason to kill me—citing any part of magical law he can twist to his benefit—and carry out his own sentence here and now while he has witnesses.

The only way to survive his unnaturally cruel death sentence is to fall under the academy’s jurisdiction before he can make a move. I have to get accepted by any means necessary.

Killing this vampire should be enough.

Revyn swipes his claws and snaps his jaw, narrowly missing my thigh with the former and scraping me with the latter. I hiss as the vampire drags me against his chest and retreats, taking me with him into the forest.

The raspy breath spilling past his lips makes my head spin. “Your blood,” he rumbles, taking a deep breath and shuddering. “I’ve never smelt anything so—” He pries my dagger from my hand and drops it at our feet. “—alluring. Like nature itself is running through your veins.” Tilting my head back, he stares in wonder at my eyes, my lips, my throat. Our entwined fingers slide through the smear of blood along my ribs, and he inhales sharply.

Fucking freak.

With a snarl, I let go of as much restraint as I can safely risk and allow my body to complete the barest of shifts. Panting, I stab him with my claws and dig my fingers into the flesh at his waist. He doesn’t flinch, but neither does Revyn as he body slams and sends all three of us tumbling into the dirt. Shifters are known for their brute strength, and alphas are touted as unparalleled in sheer force. Revyn is a master of using his size to his advantage. He lunges at the vampire while I scramble for my dagger, both of us coming up short as our target grabs my knife and disappears in a cloud of shadow.

His laughter echoes through the trees. The wind shifts, and so does the scent in the air. Our vampire is gone . . . but his blood clings to my fingers like he’s still holding onto me. With a grimace, I wipe my hand on my pants and shove Revyn the moment he steps closer to sniff my wound. “You—” I’m at a loss for words as emotions heavy as a summer storm tumble through my chest. I swallow the lump in my throat and grab the loudest emotion within reach: fury.

“You can’t just follow me, Revyn!” Taking deliberate steps away, I grab a rock and throw it at him. “We’re not together! Go away! Leave!”

He chuffs, and in the next breath, he shifts back into human form. The world tilts as he comes into focus—all six foot five of brawny muscle and scruff for days—and casually sweeps me into his arms. His body radiates heat, the scent of sun-soaked earth and pine needles filling my lungs as quickly as his warmth penetrates my heart. “I’m not going anywhere, Sienna.” Nuzzling his face in my hair, he inhales deeply. “Not without my mate.”

My voice sounds as hollow as it did when I left him two seasons ago. “We aren’t mates, Revyn.” I pull away from him and avoid his glowing silver eyes, a trademark of shifters who have spent too much time in the wilds without a pack. “We aren’t anything.” I brush my hand over the scars on my neck, the ones that match the shape of his mouth, and hold my breath as I turn away.

From the only man who’s ever wanted me exactly as I am.

And the only one who would do anything to keep me that way.

Wild Mate Chapter 1 Preview

Chapter 1 (Sienna)

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