The Wild

Odhran

The moment I found her, my fated mate—the only good and right thing in my dark, hollow life—she was taken from me by my enemies.

She was gone, ripped from my arms, a feeling more painful than if my heart had been torn from my chest.

I changed that day. I didn’t see myself as Odhran—loyal soldier to the king of the Scottish Lycans—any longer. I became scarred, emotionless... soulless. And over the decades, I became stronger, more deadly.

I turned into a killing machine, a warlord who took lives because mine had no meaning any longer.

I realized I had become this male for a reason—a purpose: to take down the organization that stole and enslaved what was mine by right and fate.

And I knew that because I found her. I found them. They thought they could take her, keep my mate from me.

They didn’t know I’d destroy them because of it.