Eric
Another Winter Solstice. Another birthday, come and gone. Another year without a mate.
Growing up, having my birthday on the Winter Solstice was always fun. I got extra presents, and it was as if everyone was celebrating my birthday, even though they were really just celebrating that the days would get longer again. But in my innocence as a child, it seemed, of course, that it was mainly about me.
Now, at 25, and still mateless, it was less exciting. Now, I dreaded the holiday, and dreaded my birthday.
It didn’t help that this year, my best friend, my future beta, Damien, had found his mate only weeks ago — a witch named Veronica — and they were joined at the hip now.
I had no ill feelings towards him — truly; I was ecstatic for him. Finding your mate is something all wolves hope
