Mate of the Werewolf

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While Camellia’s wolf form was a true essence of beauty, Ethan’s was something she considered to be incredibly dull. Honestly, his fur was as white as snow and his eyes a gentle chocolate brown. He wasn’t threatening at all. And to make him even less worthy of being called a werewolf and her brother, he preferred not to engage in battles, instead he decided to become a gentle and caring vet, off all things.

If he could, Ethan would prefer to have their territory open to any wandering wolf, allowing them refuge. He was such a dreamer. Honestly, did he really think a werewolf worth his weight would even consider coming to him for help in healing their wounds?

No wolf would get pass her, not with her keen senses that was matched by none.

Which was why she was stalking her town darkened streets; there was a new wolf in town and he was following her.

Camellia had been stalking her town darkened streets, the full moon above casting a subtle glow upon her territory, allowing her with a more than enough light to see. All day she had sensed the unwanted presence of another wolf, a male one and he seemed quite arrogant. She could tell by his scent alone. He obviously thought he could catch her unaware.

Typical male. They think just because she was female in gender, they could get one over on her.

“I know you’re following me, bastard,” Camellia growled out in a domineering manner, her posture tall and as strong as always. “Stop being such a coward and show yourself. Unless, of course, you’re frightened of me?”

The sound of paws scrapping across the concrete soon alerted her senses to the shadows behind her. Then, from that shadowy place of darkness, a large wolf appeared, larger than any she had encountered to date, yet did little to intimidate her. His fur was a black as the night sky, shiny and thick, while his eyes were as blue as the sky on a bright, cloudless summer’s day.

Camellia tisked in annoyance. She was hardly impressed.

“You are the resident werewolf, correct?” the mysterious wolf before her asked, his voice low and deep, husky and purposely seductive.

Camellia flicked a strand of her mesmerising red hair over her shoulder with a sassy flick of her wrist. “You’re looking at the Alpha wolf here, dumbass. Now I suggest you give me a good reason for being here and I might let you leave unharmed.”

The wolf said nothing in regard to her threat, causing Camellia’s annoyance to grow as he was obviously one of those arrogant, mule-head Alpha males who think they can do whatever they want, especially in regards to the females of their species.

Well, he was going to be in for a shock, wasn’t he?

“I am in search for my mate,” he finally admitted.

That, however, only earned Camellia’s ire. Yet another male who had heard of her striking beauty and power and wanted to calm her, her sexy body and wild lands as their own. He wasn’t the first and he most certainly wasn’t going to be the last.

It was so tiresome being this beautiful and powerful.

“Well, blue-eyes, that’s rather unfortunate for you, isn’t it?” Camellia said as she studied her nails in a dramatic display of boredom and disinterest. “If you came all this way to woo me, you’re wasting your time. I’m Queen here and I submit to no one. If you want to be my mate, you will submit to me, you understand? Of course, you can try to take me, but it will be your grave.”

Astonishingly, the wolf before her simply quirked his head to the side, seemingly unfazed by her warning and threat. He almost looked haughtily amused as he daringly paddled closer, moving purposely and mockingly slowly.

He was simply trying to get under her skin.

Suddenly, he moved with a speed she had never seen and appeared threateningly in front of her. So sudden was his appearance that Camellia unwillingly, and surprisingly foolishly, took a step back. Still, he stood hunched before, looking ready to pounce.

He, unexpectedly, sniffed her for her scent with a twitch of his nose but then, much to Camellia’s surprise, he snorted in what could only be described as mocking amusement. He then gave this half-chuckle noise, his canine features almost shifting into a smirk as he pulled away from her, slinking around her almost as a vulture would. He seemed conceited and smug about something.

Camellia growled threateningly in her throat. It was obviously that he just sensed her great strength and was probably in the process of thinking up a seductive plan to win her over. He was certain to use that rugged, mysterious manly charm he thought he possessed to make her swoon at his words.

What a fool. She was the great Crimson Wolf. She would submit to no one.

The mysterious werewolf snorted with a sense of mirth at her as he slowly began to slink back into the shadows, his blue eyes watching her carefully. “Just as I had anticipated,” he murmured with a growl, one that would have sent shivers down the spines of those other weak women in this town and flush foolishly. “Hardly a threat.”

“I’ll show you a threat,” Camellia snarled viciously, dangerously, her ice coloured eyes narrowing in a frightening manner. “Do not underestimate me for my gender, fool.”

Another chuckled rung out like an owl’s call in the night before he disappeared into the shadows, his heady, manly scent floating away on the wind like an earthy aftershave.

And he left Camellia feeling absolutely pissed off!

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