Sweat beads Clara’s hair line, the small of her back slick. The gnawing pain in her abdomen was enough telling for her to know what’s next. She curses the time she’s granted. Unable to make a verdict on Atticus as a chosen mate, he’d been at war with himself since her arrival. But he’d been trying. Where Rohan had kept secrets and hidden truths. Atticus in his own way was no better. At least he wasn’t hiding another she wolf in his house. Clara’s grip tightens on her fork. The droning tones of Curtis drown out. River’s ear twitches in frustration. Atticus however flirted with another wolf in plain sight. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
Clara’s eyes flick to Atticus, a quiet rage simmering there. His resentment towards the alpha building to a tangible tension in the roo
