I’m no shifter. Most of my friends are—of the happily mated wolf variety. A mate, someone forever committed to me seems like a fairy tale to my human ears. My parents were divorced by the time I was five and hadn’t found anyone else to love since. My own dating life taught me that love is for romance novels. It happens to people like me.
When my friends dare me to get on the Mail-Order Matings app, where they found their mates, I protest that it was only for shifters, but they show me different. Then they put their money behind the dare.
I have to spend ninety days with the first match on my profile and not fall for my mate to collect a cash prize. I can certainly use the money, and I will never fall in love.
