My Crush Might Kill Me

By Literally Someone Who Should Not Be Trusted With Weapons There are three things you should know about me: 1. I’m a werewolf. 2. I accidentally shot a penguin during vampire training. (He survived. He also now hates me.) 3. I was convinced I was going to wake up on my seventeenth birthday mated to the Alpha’s son. You know, tall, broody, fated leadership, cheekbones that could cut glass. Standard hormonal delusion stuff. Instead? I woke up with nothing. No mate bond. No swoony connection. Just a hollow chest, a bruised ego, and the leftover trauma of showing the entire pack my toilet paper tail the night before. And then he showed up. Lucien. Cold eyes. Sharper jaw. Definitely a vampire. Definitely the enemy. Definitely the guy I’m supposed to kill on sight. So, obviously, he turns out to be my mate. Now I’m stuck between a blood feud, a pack that wants him dead, and a face that turns into a tomato every time he so much as looks at me. Fate’s funny like that. And by funny, I mean screw you, Moon Goddess, I am not emotionally stable enough for this.