His Defiant Mate: The Wolfless Omega's Revenge

oe

were wrapped a

r clawed at me from the inside out. I was drowning. The water was a frigid shock, se

n mess under the water. Bubbles escaped my lips, tiny pockets

trong jaw, dark hair floating like a halo in the murky water. But his eyes... they were a vortex of pain, fixed on

slate of panic. Thr

idn't listen

g, an instinct that wasn't my own. This new instinct told me that st

opped f

I allowed the last of the air to bubble out of my lungs, a fina

on of a second. The pressure o

only openin

led. My knee slammed upward, driving hard i

und muffled but the impact undeniable. His body c

ther elbow, guided by a precision I didn't know I possessed, jabbed sharply into the side of his

moment, then completely limp. He was a de

ay and shot tow

It felt like swallowing glass. I coughed violently, my body shaking as I expelled wat

nded by a dense, unfamiliar forest. The sky above was a grim, overcast gray. I was soaked to the sk

wave of memories c

en't my

ugly," "stupid." The constant sneers, the quiet bullying, the

earing that sweet, concerned expression, her fingertips gently stroking my hair as if soothing a disob

that your very existence is the greatest disgrace to the Stonefang Pack? No wolf nature, dull as a

low chuckle, c

from the same cloth-equally obtrusive. Don't worry, this tea won't make you suffe

her fingertip lightly scraping across my chee

n my gut, a fog descending over my mind, the sensation

ine. And a legacy left by my mother.A mental imprint. The fog that had clouded my mind for years-the dullness, the confusion that earned me the label "intellectually disabled"-w

now decompressing in my mind. From bone reduction to toxicology analysis, from trauma hemostasis to nerve blockade, every piece of knowledge was as clear as if I had prac

marred with ugly, discolored patches. The poiso

wly drifting towards a deeper part of the stream. He was

et-screamed at me. Leave. He's

all, just trie

ed killer. It was the face of someone in unbearable pain, someone who had lost control. I could almost feel a phantom

iced somet

lucked. A string I never even knew I possessed. I couldn't tear my gaze from his face-the wet black hair, the tightly

ing deeper. Something primal, instinctual, something that belonged to my werewolf bloodlin

m. He had just t

d in a way I couldn't understand. My pulse-which should have been too weak to even sustain life-began pounding violently. My palms

I could catch it-a deep, mingled fragrance of cedar and wildfire, and that fragrance res

awakened, roared inside me. Not a

t meant. But I knew

to sav

thick with frustration and exhaus

mn

abbed the collar of his expensive-looking shirt, and began dragging his hea