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When I was eighteen, I had my tarot cards read, and they said that I’d have four mates.
My scent blockers protect everyone else from knowing what I am, but the second I walk into one of my classes, I’m hit with the most delectable smell of peaches.
If I don’t find my mates by my twenty-first birthday, I will fall pray to a curse and fall asleep for a hundred years.
Finding them all is the only way to make that happen, even if they may all be monsters.
Will Beauty find her mates, or fall into her fated slumber?
