Soren
My car’s engine sputters every now and then, the car lurching forward and making me think that it is about to die at any moment. It does not die, though, and I thank whatever god is out there for allowing me to get to Oxford Bay with only minor complications.
On the long stretches of road, I hold Celia’s mother’s journal in my hands, reading passages from her medical notes. She actually has notes on my own condition, one that can only be found in royal wolf males. My father had it and it was passed down onto me. A genetic curse that we are unable to get rid of.
Celia’s mother, though, was able to find the solution. The fated mate mind link that will subside any and all symptoms — including death — if the mates remain close to each other instead of being far away.
At least I know
