The urge to serve her is at war with my hatred. She says she didn’t try to kill us, and fine, alright, but she still refuses to acknowledge us as her mates. I can no longer see her mating mark—a skull with five marks on the side of her neck, matching to every member of our mating group—but I’m sure as fuck going to find out why. No one has the power to mask the celestial mating bond. Literally no one.
