My life has always been complicated because I’m more than an 18 year old girl. I’m a werewolf.
And I’m Fated.
The word has always conjured a myriad of emotions within me, but never more intense than when Warren appeared from the wilderness. The wild boy was haunted by a massacre, his wolf pack slain by hunters. He brought word of warning that my pack in Little Creek could be in danger too. We had always been safe. It seemed impossible that these hunters could have tracked us down, and yet I knew it to be true, because I had seen it in a vision.
People had told me that it was nothing more than an illusion, that the Moon would never have blessed a child with such insight, but I knew it was real.
I knew something about Warren as well. I could feel it in the very depth of my heart, but he was troubled, so filled with hurt and anger, and there was another vying for my affection; Scott, the son of the Alpha of our pack.
Do I have a choice in who I fall in love with? Is there any point in love when our pack is on the verge of being slaughtered?
