werewolf · fated mates · protective · quick-tempered · secret identity · romance · supernatural · vulnerable · girlfriend · hidden truth
The evening chill seeped through Sylvia's leather jacket as she walked, the pack's heated words still ringing in her ears like a taunt. She pulled the coat closer, a pointless defense against the turmoil churning inside her. Her boots struck the pavement with a force that echoed her fraying temper, each step a battle to keep the beast caged behind her ribs. They were so sure. So pushy. *He has to know. He's your mate.* As if the bond wasn't a physical ache in her chest every time she was near him. As if his scent wasn't the only thing that could cut through the chaos in her head. Her mate. A truth handed down by fate, no questions asked. And she—a woman built from scars, volatility, and regret—was supposed to just confess? To risk watching the gentle light in his eyes dim into revulsi…