Alpha Andersson
After a long, cold shower, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. This meeting was the last official event of the weekend. We would discuss pack resources and utilization, go over borders and security measures, and draw a name to decide which pack would host next year.
I made my way down to the large conference room on the main floor of the packhouse. The room was full of wolves, but Veronica was the only one I saw. She stood in the center of the room wearing loose jeans that tried but failed, to cover the curve of her hips and a blue t-shirt that matched the color of her eyes. She had her hair pulled back into a loose braid that fell down her back. As much as I loved seeing her in the tiny sports bra and tight shorts I preferred her like this, especially in front of
