Angol
Fate doesn't send a warning text.
What happens when the werewolf you can't stand becomes the werewolf you can't live without?
As a neurosurgery student, I, Yvaine Mackenzie, have only one thing on my brain-well, the brain.
Born werewolf, but with a self-prescribed immunity to the whole fated-mate concept, I never speculated how I would meet my other half. My life is already packed to the brim with surgical precision: textbooks, hospital shifts, matcha dates with my roommates, and making sure my twin brother-aka, our college's famous team captain-leaves the wereball field with all his limbs intact.
That's right, wereball-the unnecessarily aggressive sport comparable to human football but with no refs, no penalties, and no protective gear. Or as I like to call it, uncivilized, primitive, and a waste of medical supplies.
Everything fits perfectly into my color-coded agenda... until one night I innocently lend out my phone and receive the filthiest message from an anonymous rival player. Figures, as he's the most arrogant, irritating, and ill-mannered person I've never met. And my REM-sleep has never been the same.
Though somewhere between late-night texting and morning bickering, the shockingly perceptive mystery man I renamed "Rudolph" becomes my closest confidante.
But we can't hide behind our screens forever. The more our friendship deepens, the closer we draw toward catastrophic secrets and one undeniable truth-how we accidentally texted destiny into existence.
When everything explodes...will I be able to forgive him?
If I'd known one silly text would tilt the axis of my life? I would've done some cardio. Strengthened my heart. Kept a defibrillator with me. All the time.
