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 became 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.