Henry

“Are you sure about this, Henry?” my father asks me.

“Dad, I’m thirty-four years old. You know I’ve always wanted my mate. Unlike Quirin who didn’t care, I did. And yet, for some reason, the Moon Goddess has decided that I’m not worthy of a fated mate.”

“Son ...” he begins.

“Dad, please. I hear it enough from Q.”

“Then maybe you should listen to the man who loves you like a brother,” he says more sharply than is normal for him.

“Harold,” my stepmother says ...