Jean-Luc
As soon as I walked towards her, she gulped audibly, looking nervous and distant, but her werewolf smell got stronger. A feeling of relief washed over me, Roslyn was fine, her wolf was fine.
My eyebrows furrowed, Roslyn was a werewolf living outside of a pack, which was not common at all. Technically, she was a rogue, which meant any werewolf who found her could either kill her or force her to join a pack after undertaking tests or punishments.
As far as I knew, that was Werewolf Law; rogues weren’t well seen nor tolerated by most packs. She was in danger, maybe that was the reason for her nervous behavior.
“You are my mate and I won’t...” I told her.
“I am aware of it. I don’t want a mate and I am not looking for any sort of relationship,” she cut me off, taking a step
