Colton Wolfe has never liked witches. There’s something about their magic. With a snap of a finger, a witch can cancel out his brute strength, razor-sharp claws, and inch-long fangs. It just isn’t natural. The Para-proof wards constructed by witches always made his fur itch, and it has bothered him for years how they betrayed all paranormals by selling their services to the highest bidders. Then a witch nearly killed him, and his dislike turned into full-blown hate.

His brother thinks his anger is unhealthy. Following his brush with near-death, Colt refuses to talk to any packmates. Dodge, his ghostly best friend, can’t even get through to him. Colt keeps himself confined to his workshop, shutting every one out. His wolf is just about rabid and he keeps his beast locked up tight. 

His wolf wants its mate. Colt won’t admit it, but he does, too...even if he’s spent the last four months rejecting her. 

Because Shea is a witch. 

And Colt hates all witches—doesn’t he?

Shea Moonshadow is a healer first, a witch second. Considering her magic has a way of backfiring on her whenever she tries the simplest of spells, she sticks with what she knows will work. Her herbs and her poultices have never failed her before.

Now if she could only say the same about her brother. Hudson is a Donor, a blood junkie who gives blood to vampires in exchange for a high only a dangerous Nightwalker can give. When he gets in over his head, he does what he’s always done: runs to Shea for help. She can’t say no. She’s never been able to say no. 

Not to Hudson. Not to anyone. 

And that’s how she finds herself pledged to a blood-bonding with an obsessed vampire.