The Lone Wolf's Rejected Mate (Five Packs, #3)

by Cate C. Wells

Fate has to be playing a joke. My aesthetic is delicate, sweet, romantic, cottagecore. His aesthetic is—the pants I wore all last week are fine. No shirt, no shoes, no problem. Haircuts are for the weak. I kill things with my bare hands in human form. I’ve been through hell and seen the other side.

Darragh cannot be my mate. I mean, I didn’t want, like, a softboi, but this guy sailed way past dominant and landed smack dab in the middle of cleans his teeth and butchers his meat with the same knife.

Why do I care about being ladylike in Darragh Ryan’s murder shack? Patriarchy. It’s the only explanation.