Being the princess of all werewolves is not easy, but finding a mate is harder. Annabeth's royal life is turned upside down when she meets her mate, Kate.
Soon, she finds herself stuck between two choices: her duties to her family, and her love for...
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7:33 am – Kate's room
Waking up has never been easy for me but waking up today feels like a rollercoaster ride where I got stuck while doing a looping. As soon as my eyes open, my heart starts to race. No peaceful moment of staring at the ceiling, no calm deep breaths to enjoy the quiet atmosphere.
I don't need to turn to my side to know she is gone. She's always gone when I wake up, and she told me yesterday that she would have to leave early. And yet... here I am, feeling a slight sting. For some stupid childish reason, I hoped she would be here to greet me, to call me sleepyhead and lazy bum. I wanted her to be the first to say happy birthday.
There is no need to ponder the heavily woven feelings in my gut. I feel incomplete and maybe even a tad lost, and my fingertips burn with the urge to touch the pillow next to me. A few months ago, I'd been happy to feel that way because it means I am normal. I feared for so long to end up alone without a fated mate that I would have to admit to everyone that I am different and broken. But in the last few days, I was dreading this moment. Actually, I was dreading this moment since Delta and I shifted for the first time.
I have a mate. There is a stranger out there, destined to be mine. He is probably a nice and lovely being, and my heart sinks at the thought. I don't want them; I know it's wrong to even think like this, but... I can't bare the thought of looking at someone else the way I look at her.
"Maybe we get lucky and never meet them," Delta says, giving me a sliver of hope.
"Maybe," I repeat out loud with a sigh. My mind latches onto the idea that maybe things don't have to change after all. The feeling is comforting but fleeting.
So much has changed in the last six months, and I don't think I could return to how things were. I don't think we could. What I love the most are not her kisses or gentle hands roaming my body; it's how she looks at me or rather smiles, to be precise. Whenever I catch her eye, she grins, smirks, or laughs at me. Even when we are among people, and she feels unobserved, she looks at me as if I were dessert.
And she keeps these unspoken promises every time, much to my delight, I might add. When I think about yesterday, I can still hear her breathe my name and whisper how much she wants me, how much she needs me, and I get goosebumps just remembering the husky tone her voice had before it broke.
I jolt out of bed and flee toward the shower. I can't bear to think about this, knowing I will ruin everything we have just because I am not broken. With still-racing thoughts, I descend the steps and relax my shoulders as the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee hits my nose. At least something is the same.
8:16 am – Kate's home, kitchen
"There she is," my dad excitingly exclaims from across the kitchen, "Come here, my little birthday Pancake." His hug is squishy and never-ending; for a second, I wish I had stayed in bed.
