Chapter 7
“On the seventh day of Christmas my werewolf gave to me seven perfect kisses, six packs of Oreos, five satisfied smiles, four hours of hotness, three growling males, two cursing pups, and a furball in a fir tree.
Jen’s not the only one who gets to make up the song.” ~Zara
Wadim paced the mansion’s archives, muttering. Every second his mate was not there with him was one second too many. The historian knew what was wrong, both with himself and his wolf, but he didn’t know how to tell Zara without scaring the living crap out of her.
His mate thought he didn’t want to complete their bond, which he knew made Zara feel as if he was rejecting her. And he’d given her every reason to think that, but not because it was true. In fact, it was the opposite. He wanted her so badly that he
