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Iris eyes were round with shock. This was entirely impossible and her wolf was playing f*****g jokes on her. Plain jokes. This...this was a joke. It had to a be.
At the first chants of ‘mate’ alarms in his head Soner’s lips stopped moving against hers but they were still breathing heavily, their mouths touching and their faces extremely close to each other. His eyes were squeezed, unable to open...afraid that if he would open them the possibility of this hellish nightmare will become the undeniable truth.
His mate was dead.
Fake mate! His wolf growled correcting him, yes...fake mate. A mate that wasn’t exactly his fated partner but a mockery of it made possible through witchcraft and spells that bind you in such a powerful magnetic field that it’s impossible to come out
