The hot breaths of a patchy coat wolf blow on Clara’s neck. “Found you” Clara’s body shudders in delight at the physical contact
“Mate” she utters under her breath. The patchy coat was easily recognised as the Nesta pack. But it was Atticus’ scent that gave him away. Before another word can be exchanged. A blur of grey dives across, colliding with Atticus’ wolf. The two tussle, snipping at each other’s necks. Amidst the surprise attack, Clara had fallen over, she scrambles across the floor, grazing her knees on the harsh terrain. Another nose presents itself to her face, the copper coat glistening under the moon’s light. Pluto’s wolf licks Clara’s grazed knees. Her heart races in her chest, she lunges into Pluto, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Clara, I was hoping to meet your wolf.
