Callum’s POV
“Are you sure it’s not meant to be?” Drake nudged me with his elbow at the table, nearly stabbing me in the ribs with his steak knife in the process. “You and the wolfless girl had serious chemistry last night. I mean, she’s still a freak, but she can dance.”
I rolled my eyes and stabbed at my salad with my fork. “How about you focus on saying it and not spraying it?” I retorted, wiping at the side of my face.
Across the table, Toby snorted. “Drake isn’t wrong, you know. Hell, with the blood moon coming up, maybe you could even mark her again.”
My fork froze halfway to my mouth, romaine completely forgotten now.
The blood moon.
The rare time when, allegedly, broken mate bonds could be reforged—if two lovers who once had a fated bond, broke it, and fell
