“I’m thinking that I have a mate,” he says softly. “And she’s cold and angry and sitting in the dirt. I’m thinking I’m an asshole.” I sniff the tears back. It is chilly in the shade. It hadn’t really registered until now, but there are goosebumps on my arms. “I’m thinking about how I’m gonna convince her to get back in the truck. And into my cabin. And my bed.” More blood rushes to my head, and now I’m dizzy. My wolf has gotten quiet, and her ears are perked straight up. “I’m not getting into your bed. If you talked to the crone, you know she severed the bond.” “No, she didn’t. Not all the
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