Targus was outside scouting their territory when he found her. His mood wasn’t the greatest. Marco had stayed out all night, but no matter how much he worried about his good friend, he refused to feed into his destructive cycle. Although Targus was relieved he’d come home in the morning, he couldn’t deal with him yet. When he saw the cute brunette he could have sworn she was a she-wolf. She had the curves, and she was alone in the forest. It was only after he took in her scent that he knew she was a human. Not just any human. His mate. Targus had resigned himself to never having a woman of his own. He’d worked too hard to be the perfect mate for one of the wolven princesses, jumping through hoops to be one of the chosen suitors. It wasn’t about love, but position, respect, and honor. His parents expected great things of him. When the princesses returned home with men they’d personally selected, he lost any chance of achieving his goal. Targus retreated from shifter society, keeping to the fringes.
