Charolette & Hebe

Charlotte had always considered herself a perfectly normal omega wolf. Which meant she belonged to a werewolf community that firmly believed fate delivered mates in groups of three instead of pairs. Charlotte herself wasn't particularly interested in pack politics. She preferred books, tea, and spending entirely too much time reading about Ancient Greece. The problem began when Hebe made a wrong turn. Not metaphorically. Literally. One moment, Hebe—a genuine ancient Fury responsible for inspiring madness, vengeance, and generally making people's lives spectacularly miserable—was pursuing a centuries-old grudge. The next moment she found herself somewhere she absolutely was not supposed to be. She still wasn't entirely sure how. There may have been a cursed crossroads involved. Or a portal. Or one of the Fates had misplaced a thread. Charlotte discovered the furious deity arguing with a GPS. "You have arrived at your destination." "I MOST CERTAINLY HAVE NOT." Unfortunately for both of them, fate took one look at the situation and decided it was hilarious. The mate bond snapped into place. Charlotte screamed. Hebe screamed. The GPS screamed because Hebe threw it. Now Charlotte was somehow mated to an immortal embodiment of divine wrath who kept forgetting that modern laws existed. Meanwhile, Hebe was suffering an even greater indignity. She couldn't cause madness anymore. Not properly, anyway. Every time she tried, someone assumed she was posting on social media. Worst of all, the mate bond wasn't complete. Rising Sun mates came in trios. Which meant Charlotte and Hebe still needed to find a third. A task that would be difficult under normal circumstances. Finding someone willing to date an omega werewolf and an ancient Fury with anger-management issues? That seemed less like fate and more like a practical joke from the gods. Unfortunately, the gods found it hilarious.