4
I thought we were mates.
Sophie stayed in the back yard after Ephraim stormed off, the truth of his words ringing through her, bone-deep.
“f**k!” she said, pressing her knuckles against her teeth.
This could not be happening. She couldn’t have a mate, not right now… not him. Six months ago, she’d been actively searching for her life partner, daydreaming about mated life and wedding bells. She wanted a huge human-style wedding, in addition to a Wiccan ceremony and whatever her mate’s traditions might be.
And Ephraim couldn’t be more her type, his big finely-honed frame, straight dark hair, and bright yellow-green eyes lighting up every nerve ending in her entire body. Hell, six months ago Sophie would have walked right up to him and asked him to take her straight to bed.
But the Sop
