Wild Wolf

I’ve never thought much about finding my mate. I figured if and when I met her, it would be another wolf shifter. We’d scent each other, chase each other’s tails for an hour, get busy, and I’d embed my mating mark.

Easy. Simple. Effortless.

But when has anything involving my wolf been easy, simple, or effortless? The wild f$#%r has been wreaking havoc since the day he burst onto the scene, and it took losing my parents and being cast out by my pack to rein him in. That, and eight years running missions with my SpecOpsSierra brethren—my new family. We’re all civilians now, living blissfully boring lives near the Canadian border.

Well, maybe not blissfully boring.

Not anymore.

Not after I scent a human female who my wolf swears is our mate.

Sick with infection and fever, our mate is running from her abusive ex while trying to care for her five-year-old son. She’s afraid and refuses my help, but as a military medic, I can’t let her suffer.

As her Fated mate, I can’t leave her unprotected, unclaimed, or unloved.

When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t think about my finding my mate, much less starting a family. Now, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take them away from me, to include the man who drove her unwittingly into my arms.

But how do I convince a woman who escaped one obsessively controlling man to accept my mating mark and bind herself to me as my fated mate for the rest of our lives?

And what am I going to do if she says no?