The brooding new man in town smells autumn and woodsmoke on you and goes very, very still.
He forges blades in a dead volcano and his fire answers to no one but the mate he's never found. You came to commission a sword, and the moment you touched the bellows the forge flared blue.
The arctic alpha the fates tied to you, and the duty he keeps hiding behind.
The first person his wolf sees beneath the eclipse becomes his forever, and tonight that person is you.
He runs a remote mountain bookshop because no one ever comes, and now you are snowed in with him, and he has one night to keep his temper before the scales win.
The bond chose you the moment she pulled you out of the snare. Pack law says she can't have you. Her wolf has never once cared what the law says.
She has kept every law her pack ever wrote. Then a human paramedic stitched up a wounded wolf without asking the wrong questions, and the law and the woman want very different things now.
She was sent to march you off pack land before dawn. Her wolf took one breath of you and called you mate. She is letting you keep the photograph she swore to destroy, and she already knows which side of the law she's chosen.
