Fangs and Fur in the French Quarter
Rebecca Ratliff
As feral wolves stalk the night and a dark prophecy looms, Cammie’s newfound power could reshape the supernatural world—or tear it apart. With enemies closing in and magic sparking in her veins, she’ll have to embrace the beast within to survive. One thing’s this alpha doesn’t back down, and she’s rewriting the rules of destiny, one growl at a time.
I sipped my orange juice, eyeing Reed across the kitchen. His green eyes burned, like I was the only thing in his world. “You’re my mate, Cammie. My true mate,” he said, voice raw. I nodded, not shocked, but feeling… nothing. “So I gathered,” I said, casual as if we were talking weather. “But I have to phase to recognize it, right?” He nodded, jaw tight. “Sorry, even if that happens, I probably won’t remember it.” I flopped onto the couch, grabbing the remote. “If it makes you feel better, I can still smell you. It’s nice.”
“Nice? That’s it?” Reed’s voice cracked, like I’d gut-punched him. I laughed, it sounded hollow.
“You smelled better when I was beneath the cemetery. You know, where you left me and then Erik threw me out on my ass?” His growl rattled my bones, and I laughed harder. “Too much has happened, Reed. I don’t care.” I flipped through channels, ignoring the fire in his stare. My heart was numb, my fear gone, but his scent—wildflowers and power—stirred something deep. I wasn’t ready to admit it, but this alpha, this man who’d waited centuries, was fighting for me. And I was making him work for it.
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