Victoria's POV
I slumped back in the club's VIP room. What a disaster. One guy kept refilling my glass while another worked my shoulders. A third massaged my legs like I'd booked a spa session. How did I turn this high-end nightclub into some weird massage parlor?
I'd tried getting close to them. Really tried. But my body rebelled every time. Their cheap cologne clashed with Damian's lingering Alpha scent in the air. My wolf couldn't handle the sensory overload.
Moon Goddess, what twisted luck. Some-wolves never cross paths with their destined mate—pack territories span continents. Some spend lifetimes searching. And mine had to be *him*.
My destined match is Perfect, both in looks and physique.
But why Damian Stirling?
It was absolutely awful.
Grace stood there gapi
