Mo

"I'm an ordinary waiter, but I can see people's fate, including Shifters. Like all children, I was tested for magic when I was only a few days old. Since my specific bloodline is unknown and my magic is unidentifiable, I was marked with a delicate swirling pattern around my upper right arm. I do have magic, just as the tests showed, but it has never lined up with any known Magic species. I can't breathe fire like a dragon Shifter, or hex people who piss me off like Witches. I can't make potions like an Alchemist or seduce people like a Succubus. Now I don't mean to be unappreciative of the power I do have, it's interesting and all, but it just really doesn't pack much of a punch and most of the time it is just pretty much useless. My special magical skill is the ability to see threads of fate. Most of life is annoying enough for me, and what never occurred to me is that my mate is a rude, pompous nuisance. He's an Alpha and my friend's twin brother. --------------------------------------- “What are you doing? This is my home, you can't just let yourself in!” I try and keep my voice firm but when he turns and fixes me with his golden eyes I shrink back. The look he gives me is imperious and I automatically drop my eyes to the floor as is my habit. Then I force myself to look back up again. He doesn't notice me looking up because he's already looked away from me. He's being rude, I refuse to show that he's scaring me, even though he most definitely is. He glances around and after realising that the only place to sit is the little table with its two chairs he points to it. “Sit.” he orders. I glare at him. Who is he to order me around like this? How can someone this obnoxious possibly be my soul mate? Maybe I'm still asleep. I pinch my arm and my eyes water a little from the sting of pain."

«Durante años le pertenecí. No como su compañera. No como su amor. Sino como su compañera de cama. Su Gamma. Su sombra en la noche. El Alfa Calhoun se aseguró de que ningún hombre se atreviera a tocarme y ningún lobo se atreviera a mirarme. Yo era su posesión, su secreto, su pecado envuelto en piel. Y lo soporté todo: sus manos ásperas, su oscura devoción, sus besos que sabían a fuego y cadenas, porque al menos, por un tiempo, él fue mío. Hasta que ella regresó. Su compañera predestinada. Su llamado verdadero amor. Y de pronto, yo no era nada. Desechada, silenciada, abandonada a marchitarme a la sombra de un amor que nunca fue mío para reclamarlo. Pero lo que pasa al ser reclamada por un hombre como Calhoun... es que él nunca te deja ir del todo. "Intenta dejarme, Elodie", había sido su voz un gruñido contra mi garganta mientras su agarre me dejaba moretones en la cintura, "quemaré cada frontera y destrozaré a cada lobo que se interponga en mi camino hasta que vuelvas a mí a rastras. Eres mía, incluso si la mismísima Diosa de la Luna quiere arrebatarte de mis brazos". Él no sabía en ese momento que yo ya tenía un pie fuera de la puerta. Y cuando finalmente dejé su manada... me llevé mucho más que mi corazón roto conmigo».