Description
Being edited***Heir to the Royal Bloodline Pack, Arabella is destined to rule over thousands and thousands of werewolves. On the day she turned 18, everything was supposed to lock in place. The traditional ball would be held where all Alphas and Betas were required to come. She was to find her mate, confirm the bond, and immediately begin the role of leadership. But her mate wasn't invited. He wasn't welcome. He is the Rogue King. €€€€ A man sat, with a white button-down shirt and black pants. His feet were bare, and hair was a messy bunch of curly hair. I looked him over, ignoring the wave of tingles that came with each inch I drank in of his figure. He was leaning over, his elbows resting on his knees. It made the muscles on his back protrude out and push against the white fabric. His head was turned towards me, slightly tilted to the side as if he was analyzing me, too. I struggled to breathe now, those golden-brown eyes watching me intently. He had a jawline that could kill, and eyebrows thicker than mine. Even in the dark, I could see his rosy lips and how they were perfectly sculpted. He was alluring, untouchable, and dangerously attractive Thanks for reading ❤️
Rogue
