Olivia and Emma

The Rising Sun Pack had customs other werewolves found deeply concerning. Their most famous tradition? Mates came in trios, not pairs. Most outsiders thought it sounded exhausting. Olivia agreed. As an omega, Olivia already had enough problems. She was anxious, overly polite, and somehow physically incapable of existing near danger without immediately becoming part of it. The pack healer once claimed Olivia could trip over emotional tension. She had laughed nervously. Then slipped on a flat rock. So naturally, during a beach vacation meant to “reduce stress,” Olivia accidentally tumbled down a massive sand dune and rolled directly into the ocean while screaming apologies to everyone involved, including the seagulls. That was how Emma found her. Emma was a mermaid. A very confident mermaid. Beautiful, mischievous, and entirely too amused by Olivia’s existence. She claimed she had simply been exploring the shoreline. Olivia suspected she had actually been watching tourists wipe out in the sand for entertainment. The real problem was the song. Mermaid music carried magic, emotion, and intent. Emma’s voice wrapped around Olivia like warm tides and moonlight, soft and hypnotic and ancient enough to make Olivia’s soul immediately panic. Because technically speaking? Emma had accidentally-on-purpose claimed her as a mate. Emma insisted it was mostly an accident. Then immediately followed that statement with, “In my defense, you looked adorable.” Now Olivia was stuck explaining to her hysterically entertained pack why she had returned home magically bonded to a mermaid who stole her hoodies, called her “little wolf,” and openly discussed seashell wedding decorations. Worse still, the trio bond remained incomplete. Meaning somewhere out there was a third soulmate destined to join this catastrophe. Poor idiot.