A large brown wolf shoves his muzzle against my neck and inhales deeply.
Shuddering, I tell myself to hold still. What’s harder to control is my need to snap at the wolf pressed close. Too close. In a way that only Mack would on our pack runs. As if I’m his mate when I’m nothing of the kind.
Don’t bite. Don’t lash out. We won’t be the one to pay for it.
My wolf doesn’t like that, doesn’t like the thought of letting this heavily muscled large brown wolf with piercing blue eyes who smells nothing like Mack anywhere near us.
Muscles tremble with the effort I’m using to hold still, yet I don’t bite or snarl. I don’t move. Just wait for Nolan to get his fill of sniffing me and then back off.
An eternity later, or maybe it just feels that way, Nolan finally edges back, but he doesn’t go far
