Tyler
Emori.
For one hundred and twenty years, I have wondered what her name was. I’ve gone through thousands of names. Every woman I met, I wondered if my mate’s name could be the same. I’ve never met anyone with the name Emori before. I like it; it’s different.
Emori is still as beautiful as the day I met her. Even lying on her side on that old couch, looking like death, she’s a Goddess. I don’t like that she’s wearing hardly anything, tiny shorts and a baggy T-shirt that’s miles too big for her. Goddess knows whose clothes they are, but I’m hoping Starr’s. I don’t think I could take smelling another man on my mate. I hate that everyone can see my mate like this!
“Ty?” Thane takes my arm. “What’s going on?”
“I thought she wanted you dead, that she was a traitor. It didn’t matter how
