MASON
The stars in Cambiador were as bright as in MacTire. The humid heat from the day turned into a haze of clouds as the air cooled down once the sun cast its last ray over the horizon.
I was running patrol tonight with a few new recruits close to the Northern border. All was quiet, the air and jungle still. Not a sound to be heard. It was peaceful, too peaceful. The quietness that surrounded me gave way for my mind to wander.
I had been thinking a lot about Cambiador’s laws and the idea that the werecat people don’t rely on or wait for a fated mate.
I was a rogue, so the chance of me ever being gifted with a fated was slim. My train of thought, and not for the first time, led me to think of taking a chosen. A wife - a contracted wife.
Tawny was mated and happy. Goddess honest truth
