The Secret Identity of His Unwanted Wolfless Mate

ony

k of porcelain on saucers. Theodore tried to fill it with cheerful small talk about the weather, but it was like

s designated attack dog, decided to take a more direct

his lips. "Forgive my forwardness, but I've heard that in

you're wolfless." The term was an insult, a slu

ed. He opened his mout

ew gently on the steaming tea, and

S

eech prepared, a series of condescending questions designed to p

our... background. How does one come to know a man like Mr. Stavros?

ncial report on his tablet, but I knew he was listening

ent. "The internet is a wonderful thing," I said, my voice

ibuted my knowledge to a Google search, which wa

decided to switch tactics, moving to what he thought was safer ground. "I hear you haven't

k, a comparison to the pe

a little louder this time, a sharp note in the qui

ol doesn't define a person's worth. Some people can gra

ed. A quick check of his public profile would tell yo

twitch at the corner of Hamilton's mouth. An alm

sing. I wasn't sure if that wa

gentle introduction had devolved into

anished, replaced by the commanding Alpha of the Carter cla

rom me to h

two of you t

om didn't just fr

ck at me, his expression one of utter, comical disbelief. A wolfless outcast

Theodore that clearly said, You have lost your mind. This was n

ent reaction cam

eted. The air grew thick, heavy with a palpable, dangerous energy. His Lycan p

not on me, but on his grandfather. He didn't even grant me a glance. I was an objec

poke, was low and guttural,

er, are yo