Archer

Holy fuck. She’s magnificent. Single-handedly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, standing between us with her hair wild and a hard glint in her eyes.

I can scent her fear. There’s a tension in her body that speaks of a deep urge to run, the way a deer would bolt at the crack of a twig in the night. But she doesn’t. She stands there, chin in the air, stance wide and unmoving, despite the four powerful, intimidating shifters staring her down.

Sable, my beautiful mate, refuses to bend, and this glimpse of the warrior inside her—the wolf inside her—sends a wave of warmth and respect through me....