Werewolf
"You made me wait," Cole said, reaching for his shirt like the conversation was already over. "Clara didn't."Roxie looked at the man who was supposed to claim her that same night and found nothing in his face worth saving."So this is my fault," she said."I'm not saying—""You are literally saying that."Roxie Blackwood was never the pack's favourite. Too low-ranked, too grease-stained, too useful to discard but too easy to overlook.She built their weapons. Fixed their machines. Kept her head down and waited for the one thing that was supposed to be hers, her fated mate, her way out, her proof that the Moon Goddess hadn't forgotten about her.Then she walked through the wrong door.One night stripped Roxie of everything. Her mate. Her rank. Her father's protection. Her pack.Banished into rogue land with nothing but a tool roll and a mind that refused to quit, Roxie should have died before sunrise.She didn't.The Ironfang Pack doesn't take strays. But they've never encountered anyone like Roxie, a woman who survives not with claws and dominance, but with wire, precision, and a mechanical genius that turns a battle-hardened pack into something truly unstoppable.Then there is Ralph, Ironfang's Beta, cursed with strength so uncontrollable his own pack keeps their distance. Ralph doesn't believe in second chances. Doesn't believe in mates. Keeps everyone at arm's length and calls it discipline.Until Roxie came into the scene for him—------------------;-----------------------------------"Thirty days," Alpha Damien said. “Demonstrate your value. After that — I decide."Rihianna met his eyes. "And if I don't meet your standard?""You go back to the border."She didn't flinch. Didn't beg.She'd been disposable her whole life. She knew exactly what to do for thirty days.
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