The full moon was rising.
Rhys could feel the prickling in the air. And he felt incredibly uncomfortable, standing in front of a large female brown wolf on the edge of the woods, without his shirt; with nothing but a pair of loose shorts that was hanging low on his hips.
Glowing yellow eyes peered out into the darkness and were glued on him.
“Why do you look at me like that?” he asked.
The wolf’s mouth moved into what Rhys could only deem as a smile. It was laced with need and desire.
“Well, cant’ I stare at what’s mine?” the wolf muttered seductively as if it were meant to entice. And Rhys’ wolf had sensed it immediately.
“Yours? I can’t be yours. I belong to no one. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t belong to any pack. I am what you might call a rogue wolf. Although I have not lost
