When Chase Holliday’s gaze first met mine, something tingled on my end. He was hot. Dark blue eyes, a square jaw, hair that was just a little too long, and he had this way of focusing that made me wonder if I should attack or run.
And I never run.
Together we’d make a pair anyone would sit up and notice. At least that’s what I thought before I learned that he planned to wipe werewolves from the face of the planet. And since I was born with an active werewolf gene, well, let’s just say our twain could never meet. Then a Blood Moon occurred while I was in heat and all my hard earned control went slamming out the window with me right behind it. That’s when I learned that, like wolves in nature, werewolves mate for life.
I’m in deep trouble.