Book One in the Lycan Chronicles
Evander Rue had his entire life planned out even before he was born. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and parents who never had time for him. A family who barely called or cared for him left him to be rais...
He turned over, excitement and adrenaline making his heart pound against his chest. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses onto his mate's bare skin, the scarred flesh was warm and familiar. The sleeping man grunted softly, mumbling under his breath as he buried his face into the pillow. Normally, Evan would let him rest, but today was a special occasion.
"Happy birthday, my love," Evan whispered against Midnight's ear as he continued to plant small kisses on every patch of available skin. His arms wrapped around his mate's middle, pulling his back to his broad chest as he nuzzled his hair. "I love you."
"Thank you." Midnight mumbled sleepily, reaching out clumsily to pat Evan's head. "And I love you too, pet. Now, let's go to sleep. I need at least seven hours of sleep to function properly."
In the morning, he woke before Midnight. He took a quick shower and did his morning routine, putting on a pair of sweatpants before sneaking downstairs into their private kitchen to make them both breakfast. Humming to himself, he tied a black and blue apron around his waist as he got to work, taking out all the ingredients he would need to make enough food to feed a newly turned nineteen-year-old man and an even hungrier werewolf.
