Prologue

There were countless fairy tales I had wished to be in, swimming in the colour of love. Picking roses like Belle or dyeing my hair red like Ariel, perhaps even eating the apple like Snow White and being saved by my knight in shining armour.

Us wolves were always told, ‘Your mate is going to be the reason you live, so don’t ever lose hope.’ I believed in them fully.

I was submerging myself in stories of young mates and lovers, only to realize I had been drowning in false tales and hopes.

As I stared at eyes that were swarmed with the colour which once meant love to me, I was shaking with fear instead.

Oh, how I wish they taught me red meant danger as well.