Author Susanna Shore
Paranormal and contemporary romances, light mysteries


Wolf Moon

Chapter One          Chapter Two


Chapter One

Jamie Green felt the exact moment his mate died. He was surrounded by his clan of wolf-shifters, watching fireworks go off in celebration of the human New Year. Despite the distance, the sound was almost painful for his sensitive ears, but the joy of the cubs was infectious. He was every bit as excited as the children when the largest explosions at the end filled the sky with colours, the booms making his chest reverberate.

The next moment he found himself on his knees on the muddy ground, forced there by a pain inside him that felt like his heart was being torn out. He could barely breathe. His wolf, his second nature and other half, was writhing in agony inside him, his movements pushing against the boundaries of their human form.


A hand squeezed their shoulder, the wolf and man no longer able to think of themselves as separate and beyond the help their cub could offer. And then she felt it too.

“Mom…” Their cub collapsed next to them.

They needed to get up. They needed to assure their cub that they were all right. They needed to look after their clan that they were the heart of, to make sure this pain didn’t affect them too…

But their legs wouldn’t obey. Icy water was seeping through their jeans; their hands that leaned on the cold ground were turning numb. But it was irrelevant. Their mate had died.

“Dad, can you hear me? I’m calling Christopher, to find out if there’s anything we can do.”

But they knew it was already too late.

Their clan was gathering around them, pressing closer, offering consolation they needed but couldn’t accept yet. A new hand landed on their shoulder, heavier than the first. They needed a moment to identify it, a true sign that everything was not well with them.

Rafe. Their little brother, the cub they had looked after, and man they had relied on for almost a century and half.

“I’ll handle things here. You go ahead and run,” Rafe said, his voice wolf gruff for strong emotions.

It was as if they had waited for the permission to not be the alpha. Their brother would look after the clan for them. They let go of the human form imprisoning them. The wolf came out.

And then they ran.


Dawn found Jamie inside the trunk of a hollow tree in the middle of his clan’s vast territory. He was still in wolf form, but his thoughts and emotions were separate from his second nature again. He could feel his wolf’s grief, but he could detach himself from it. It wasn’t his sorrow to feel anymore. Hadn’t been for decades.

Elaine, his human mate—wife—had left him and their baby daughter Harriet thirty-six years ago and built a new life, a new family for herself. He had loved her, and his wolf had considered them mated like two shifters: with a bond that lasted forever. But she hadn’t been able to feel the bond, and her love for him had died when faced with the everyday reality of living among wolf-shifters.

Recovering from the divorce hadn’t been easy for Jamie, but he had come to terms with his loss long ago. However, a mating bond couldn’t be dissolved by will and his wolf hadn’t been able to let her go.

Now death had cut the bond violently, permanently. Only a void remained where it had been, like an open wound Jamie couldn’t ignore after years of barely noticing it. It didn’t cause him any pain, only wistfulness for a life that could have been. But his wolf was in agony.

“Dad, are you in there?”

Harriet—Harry, as they had called her since she was a cub—entered his hideout in her human form and sat down next to him. She placed a hand on his neck and stroked his fur. He was an alpha, but she was his daughter and she was allowed to.

“Chris called. Doctors think it was a brain aneurysm. There was nothing anyone could’ve done.”

She launched into a medical speech, using her doctor voice. He didn’t listen to her words, only her voice, proud of the woman she had become, a trauma doctor in a hospital for two-natured. But his wolf heard what the official voice tried to hide: the pain and sorrow of a child who had lost her mother. He needed to stop wallowing in grief he didn’t feel and be the father his daughter needed.

Wanna run?

They could communicate mind-to-mind even when they were in different forms, and his daughter heard him perfectly.

“Sure. Let me just undress. These jeans are a bitch to try to shift in.”

A moment later, two white wolves emerged from the tree, one larger and one lither. They paused, lifted their heads to the lightening sky, and howled, the forlorn sound carrying far. From a distance, the howls of his clan answered and he felt them deep inside him. The wolf and the man were both consoled.


Human funeral rituals were long and boring, but Jamie attended Elaine’s anyway. Not so much for his lost mate, but for Harry. She was standing with her half-siblings, whisky eyes so like his glistening with tears. She was a head taller than her mother’s family, her wheat-blond hair shining in the pale winter light like a beacon above their darker heads. Standing by her side, an unwavering support in her sorrow, was her mate Zack, a huge vampire warrior impervious to the wide berth the humans gave him. He was used to being feared by the one-natured.

Jamie had once hoped that something of Elaine would remain in Harry, that he would have a piece of her in their daughter. But she was exactly like him and he wouldn’t have her any other way. She was the legacy of his marriage, the one good—perfect—thing that had come of it.

He was standing behind the mourners with Rafe and Charlotte, his mate. Like Zack, the large wolves unnerved the humans and they had thought it best to stay out of sight. The aura of his white wolf—the translucent manifestation of his second nature when he was in a human form—was stretching out of him like it wanted to reach the coffin and sniff it, but it wouldn’t force a shift. Jamie was too strong a shifter to succumb to his second nature like that.

When the coffin disappeared into the earth, his wolf threw back its head and howled silently. The auras of the other wolves followed suit, their tribute invisible to the humans around them.

His wolf was consoled by it. The man had gone numb.

Jamie didn’t attend the wake. He wasn’t needed there. He returned to Greenwood Manor, his home since before the current building was built at the end of the eighteenth century, and headed straight to his study. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, warming the room nicely. He poured a hefty glass of whisky and threw himself onto a large leather wingback that had been in the study already when his father was the alpha.

A quiet whingeing sounded somewhere near his ankles and he glanced down at the latest addition to the clan, who was staring at him with soulful black eyes. He cracked a smile, unable to resist the pleading.

“Whoever thought it was a good idea to give a Newfoundland puppy to a wolf cub had to be out of their mind.”

The puppy wagged his entire bottom half in response, ecstatic to have been noticed by him.

Buttons, as the ball of black fur was called, had taken to living among apex predators admirably. But instead of staying in their cottage with his owner, Vincent, the puppy tended to find his way to the manor and Jamie’s study, as if Jamie was his alpha too.

Reaching down, he lifted Buttons up and settled him on his lap where the little thing promptly fell asleep. Some company he was.

He stretched his long legs towards the fire and proceeded to enjoy his solitude with the good whisky. Maybe brood too.

Harry found him there what had to be hours later. The fire had almost died, and the puppy had wandered off again.

“How long have you been here?”

She headed straight to the fireplace and added a few logs to get the fire roaring again. Jamie glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and rubbed his face.

“I … have no idea, actually.”

“Had too many of those?” She nodded at the glass he was holding. He frowned, puzzled.

“You know, I think this is the first one.” He had been so lost in his memories that he had forgotten to drink.

Harry sat on the other wingback. Leaning closer, she placed a hand on his knee. “This really hit you hard, didn’t it?”

He patted her hand. “That’s just it. It didn’t hit me at all. But my wolf is forlorn and his emotions bleed into mine.”

She tilted her head. “Shouldn’t both your natures be one about this? I know mine are.”

Jamie hadn’t been entirely happy when his daughter declared she had found her mate in a vampire, but he could admit that theirs was a true bonding that would see them through thick and thin for the rest of their long lives. Had he ever had that?

“Back when I first met your mother, I thought we were. My wolf definitely chose her. But when she couldn’t answer the mating call and accept the bond, things changed.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” She searched his face, the look that of a doctor trying to puzzle out her patient.

“Yes,” he said with a warm smile. “If the mating had been true, I wouldn’t be here. I would’ve hidden myself as a wolf to mourn our loss. That’s what happened to Father when Mother died, and I’ve seen it several times with mated pairs.” He wrapped his hand around hers and she squeezed it.

“How are you doing?”

She sighed. “I too am less sad than I ought to be. Mom and I only recently found each other again, and didn’t truly connect. But at least we had a chance to talk things over and I’m not bitter about her abandoning me anymore.”

His heart twinged with pain for her. “She had no choice, you know that. You’re too strong a wolf to be raised by humans.”

“I know, but she didn’t need to cut me out of her life quite so completely.”

He had no answer for that.

She reached for a glass and decanter on the table between them and poured a dose. Then she leaned back, curled her long legs under her and took a sip. “So … are you going to look for a new mate now?”

His body froze and his wolf peeked out, as if affronted. “I … hadn’t thought about it.”

“Then do,” she said, with emphasis. “You’ve been alone for decades, and that’s not good for a wolf. An alpha needs someone by his side.”

For over thirty years, his wolf had prevented him from even taking interest in women, his second nature stuck with the bond it had formed. But now he was free to look. He didn’t quite know what to think of it.

They sat in silence for a while. “I think I’ll go on a holiday.”

“You?” Harry exclaimed with exaggerated horror. “Have you ever taken a holiday?”

“I took you to Paris that one time,” he countered, but she was right. His duties as the alpha didn’t allow him to be away from home for long stretches of time.

“That was twenty years ago.”

“It was a good holiday,” he smiled, and she smiled in return. “But not what I need now.”

“What do you need?”

He had the answer ready. “Peace and quiet. Tranquillity.” His wolf sent him an image of a snow-laden world where they could curl up inside a snowbank as a wolf. “Snow.”

Her brows shot up. “A bit difficult to find snow around here.”

The snow that had fallen before Christmas had already melted, but he didn’t have to stay here.

“I hear there’s plenty of it in the Highlands this year.”

“Also plenty of wolf-shifters in the Highlands,” she said dryly.

“I’m sure there’s space for little old me.”

She laughed. “Sure. When will you leave?”

“First thing in the morning.”


There were several wolf-shifter clans in Scotland, with bear and snow leopard clans thrown in the mix, each controlling huge territories. None of them were too happy to have a strange alpha roaming in their territory, but they also knew that a bonded wolf mourning for his mate wouldn’t be a threat. After a couple of phone calls, Jamie secured himself the right to wander in a fairly large unclaimed patch between the territories of three different clans.

“I’ll be back by the full moon,” he said to his brother at breakfast early next morning, then added with a grin: “I expect the celebrations to be spectacular.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “This isn’t our first Wolf Moon, you know. We know what to do.”

As followers of the lunar calendar, shifters and vampires celebrated their new year during the first full moon after winter solstice, which this year fell on the third week of January.

“But you don’t have to be back so soon. We can manage without you for two weeks, you know,” he added with a pointed look.

“I know. But this is long enough. The clans are wary of me as is. I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

“You could’ve tried holidaying somewhere without shifters around. I’m sure there’s an island in the Caribbean that you could’ve claimed for yourself.”

Jamie shuddered in horror. “I prefer the cold and snow, thank you very much. Besides, you have more important things to worry about than the clan.”

A fond and slightly petrified look spread on Rafe’s face. Charlotte had recently discovered she was pregnant with their first child, and the entire clan was ecstatic. Jamie recognised his brother’s look and remembered feeling the same when Elaine had told him she was expecting.

“I’m fairly sure I can handle both for as long as you’re gone. Besides, Charly doesn’t want me to make a fuss.”

Jamie grinned. “Like that’s going to happen.”

The brothers laughed.

“Now, are there any last-minute details I should deal with before I go?”

The clan had a large development company with a subsidiary construction firm that brought them most of their income. Rafe was primarily in charge of it, while Jamie dealt with clan issues and the farm, but the alpha wanted to be informed about everything.

“Not really,” Rafe answered, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he gave it a thought. “Except that the temp accountant we hired for Jenny’s maternity leave quit after a week. He found being around wolves too unnerving. That’s the third one.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “We should’ve gone with a two-natured.”

“I know, but none were handily available. Charly said she can handle it for a few days, but she has her own job and I’d rather not add to her workload.”

“Understandable. Put out feelers for two-natured accountants, but if none are available, we have to try with a human again.”

His breakfast finished, Jamie got up. Rafe followed suit and the brothers hugged.

“Take care,” Rafe said in a gruff voice.

Jamie patted his upper arm. “I’m not headed for a war, you know.”

“This time.”

Best not to dwell on those memories.

Rafe saw Jamie to his car that was already packed and waiting outside the front door. Harry met them there, and she gave him a teary hug.

“I’m coming back, you know,” he said, slightly exasperated.

“You’d better.”

Pecking a kiss to her cheek, Jamie got in the car. He exited it immediately though, and handed Buttons to Harry. The puppy was whining for being left behind, and the look on his daughter’s face seemed to reflect the same.

With an amused shake of his head, he entered the car again, and this time he was able to drive away. But he kept an eye on his family in the rearview mirror for as long as he could.

Around a bend, he heaved a heavy sigh. Adventure beckoned. He had better return as a whole man again. His clan needed it. His family needed it. He most definitely needed it.

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Chapter Two

Isla Shaw closed the front door of her clan’s rambling main house, cutting off the screaming fight between her two sisters-in-law. The day had barely broken and Màiri and Sìneag were already at each other’s throats.

She pulled the zipper of her thick down jacket all the way up, pushed her bare hands deep in the pockets, and leaned against the wall to wait for things to calm down again. The sharp mountain wind didn’t quite reach her spot—her father had carefully chosen the place for the clan home to ward off the worst—but this was the Highlands in January. It was bitterly cold, even for a wolf-shifter.

A large form of a man materialised next to her from the shadows. Wee Angus, the youngest son of her brother Keir, her youngest big brother. She had three of them, and all were impossible. But she liked Wee Angus. He reminded her of Daniel, her son, though there had been a time when that resemblance brought her only pain.

His nickname wasn’t descriptive. He was six foot six, with wide shoulders and the strength of two men, even when those men were shifters, and had recently turned a hundred and forty-one; he was only eighty-two years younger than her. He was called wee, small, because her father, the former clan alpha, had been Angus too. Da had died six weeks ago, in a battle like he had always wanted to. Wee Angus was the only Angus left in the clan, but it would take a while before he lost the nickname.

“What are they going on about now?” He flicked a thumb towards the door and the muffled screams coming through, his low voice full of annoyance.

“Wolf Moon feast preparations.” She couldn’t hide the disgust in her voice either.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What’s there to fight about? We celebrate like we’ve always done. Or do they want to tone things down for Seanair ?”

“I wish.” She could tolerate them better if the women wanted to respect their late father-in-law with muted New Year’s festivities. “Màiri decided that now that Da isn’t here to dominate the planning, there should be some changes.”

“Like what?”

“I didn’t listen,” she confessed, making her nephew snort a laugh.

“You’re supposed to be the clan beta. You should be there to mediate.”

A bitter sneer twisted her upper lip, her wolf present in that look. “That’s very much in doubt, now that Fergus has declared himself as the alpha.”

Women didn’t exist in her oldest brother’s chain of command. What had been good enough for their father, who had been interested in the wellbeing of the Sithech clan as a whole, wasn’t that for Fergus.

“We both know that’s not how it’s done,” Angus reminded her in a reasonable voice. “The whole clan knows. And the clan doesn’t want him as their alpha. The alpha bond is born of acceptance of a true alpha.”

“Yeah, well, until a better one comes along, he’s what we have.”

He poked her lightly in the side with his elbow. “I thought you’d give it a go. You’d be great. I think the clan would easily accept you.”

Her nephew’s words warmed her, but she shook her head. “I thought so too while Da was still alive. But…” She let the sentence die. She didn’t know how to explain.

“You’re still in shock for how suddenly Seanair died. I know I am. You don’t quite know what you want.”

She lifted her head to look at him in the face, a fair distance even though she was almost six foot tall herself. “Since when have you become so wise?”

He grinned. “I’ve always been. But no one ever notices it.”

“It’s being called Wee Angus that causes it.”

He shrugged his powerful shoulders. “Probably.” He nodded at the door. “You could still do something about that though. You do outrank those two at least.”

“Not in Màiri’s opinion. Her mate is the alpha, so she should be allowed to call the shots.”

And in a properly functioning clan that would have been the case. Màiri was the youngest of her brothers’ mates, having been in the clan since only 1963, but an alpha’s power could be felt and exercised through their mate too. If they had a proper alpha.

“Sìneag thinks that since the clan hasn’t accepted Fergus, she doesn’t have to take airs from Màiri. She’s pushing Hamish to challenge Fergus.”

“Gods forbid,” Angus said with a shudder. “Even Da would be better.”

She gave it a thought and nodded. “He would. Maybe you should have a talk with him.”

“I will if you go talk with those harpies.”

It might actually be worth the aggravation. Keir was the most level-headed of her brothers and well-respected in the clan. He was slightly reticent though, and would take a great deal of convincing. And there was no telling how Fergus would react if the clan chose Keir as their new alpha.

“He’d be a better beta though. With a different alpha, of course.”

“That would be you,” Angus pointed out.


Angus wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his chest. “It won’t be so bad, you know.”

“But then I’d have to deal with those two on daily basis.”

He barked a laugh. “Maybe Fergus would be so angry that he’d leave and take Màiri with him.”

She hated how the notion filled her chest with hope. Angry Fergus would be a disruptive force in the clan, and whoever became the true alpha would have to deal with him. Add Màiri in the mix and it would be a full-time job.

“How come you’re out so early?” she asked, to ward off the emotion.

“I was on patrol last night. Just came home.”

They had a large territory that needed constant defending. They had become a little complacent in recent years though, and had paid the price when a new kind of enemy had attacked them six weeks ago. They were more vigilant now.

“Anything interesting?”

“Nah. But I hear there’s a strange wolf roaming right outside the clan territory.”

She nodded. “That’s the Greenwood clan alpha from London. He lost his mate and is here to grieve.”

She felt a wave of compassion from him and he squeezed her shoulder. She appreciated the gesture, but her mate had died a century ago now, along with their son. It wasn’t raw anymore.

“How come Fergus hasn’t told me?”

Might flared around him, a sign of both his power and anger, and it drew an answer from her wolf, who rose to the surface. Their second natures were creatures of Might, the energy that powered them, and reacted to it keenly.

“I’d say he’s been distracted, but it could just as well have been deliberate. If you caused an incident with a visiting alpha that has been given hospitality rights, he could get rid of you.”

Might spiked again, and she used her beta powers to calm him—proof that the old power structure was still alive despite the old alpha being gone.

“Do you want me to go check him?” she asked.

Her nephew was the head of clan security and in charge of assigning the patrols, no matter what Fergus tried to say or do.

“Anything to avoid dealing with the women?” he quizzed, accepting her calming effect.

“Gods, yes,” she said with a feeling.

“Then go. Take enough provisions. It’s two days there and back in this snow. And there’s a storm coming.”

“What do you want me to do if I find him?”

“That should be the clan alpha’s decision. But I take it Fergus has given him the permission to be there, so should the weather turn bad, bring him here.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to prepare Fergus for that eventuality. There’s no saying what will happen if I bring a strange alpha here in this situation.”

Angus tilted his head in silent acknowledgement of the shit-show it would cause.

Isla turned to head back inside when the angry bellowing of her eldest brother sounded through the door, and she paused.

“I think I’ll gear up at the sentinels’ hut.”

“Wise decision.” He sighed and nodded at the door. “I guess it’s my duty to do something about that, then.”

Pride swelled inside her. “You’re a good man, Wee Angus.”

He straightened to his full height. “It’s Angus now.”

With a shared grin, they turned to their separate ways, he into the house, she across the snowy yard to a building on its other side. The yelling sounded briefly louder when Angus entered the house, only to cut off. She shook her head.

She had to get out of here.


Even with a snowmobile, it took Isla a better part of the day to reach the sentinel’s hut at the north-eastern edge of the clan territory. The snow had come early this winter and it had kept coming, filling the landscape and making the terrain treacherous. There were snowmobile tracks crisscrossing the area from earlier patrols, but it still required her complete concentration to find optimal paths around and over the dozens of partially frozen rivers and brooks, and crevices that hid under snow.

The clan base was at the foot of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland; had been there centuries before tourists began to flock to the area. It was on the southeast side of the mountain, far from Fort William and the tourist paths, but they had to keep a constant eye on gormless humans who strayed off the marked paths and stumbled into the middle of unwelcoming wolves.

Angus had long ago made a decision to accommodate the tourists, building camping areas, huts, and toilets for them on the western edge of the territory in an attempt to control the crowds. It provided much of their income these days, but it wasn’t always worth the hassle when the clan had to spend days looking for lost hikers who had thought to climb the Ben in their summer clothes and sandals with only a bottle of water for the journey.

They hadn’t lost a tourist yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Winter brought skiers, and Isla kept an eye on them as she headed northeast along the valley between the mountains. It was easy to get lost in the whiteness of the landscape that offered no fixed points for orienting oneself, and the snow that looked firm might give in under one’s skis unexpectedly, causing injuries.

She had her wolf to help her, but humans were on their own, and often without proper equipment that would allow them to survive the merciless weather that could kill in a matter of hours. She was dressed in winter coveralls made for arctic conditions, with several layers underneath and a couple of changes in her bag too. She had food for a week and a large canister of petrol for the snowmobile. If the storm came before she could return, she would survive for a few days.

A lost skier would only have hours.

It was peaceful and quiet in the mountains, but for the first time ever it failed to calm the storm in Isla’s mind. Angus was right, she was still in shock for her father’s sudden death, and the attack on the clan territory that had caused it.

It had been unprovoked, and by an enemy none of them had heard of before, renegades, their sole purpose to destroy the clan. Yet it had been so well prepared that the enemy had managed to sneak up on them from behind through a difficult mountain pass. If it hadn’t been for a couple of vampire warriors of the Crimson Circle who had happened to get wind of the attack and had risked their lives through a storm to warn them, the clan would’ve lost.

The thought made her shudder.

Angus had been old for a wolf—they were long-lived, not immortal—and the past few years his health and mind had deteriorated and his strength had diminished. It would have been only a matter of time before they lost him. A part of her was happy that he had been able to go in such a manner, protecting the clan he had served for centuries.

A larger part missed the cantankerous old wolf and the stability he had provided for the clan. He had given her his blessing when she had declared her intention to mate with a wolf from a London clan, and had welcomed her home a century later after both her mate and son had perished in the Great War, plunging her into near madness. He had given her space to recover and then, little by little, had integrated her into the clan life again, eventually making her the clan beta after the previous one died, much to the annoyance of her brothers. He hadn’t cared.

Now he was gone and she had no idea what to do with her life. Who was Isla Shaw if not the beta of the Sithech clan? She wasn’t a mate to Brice Campbell anymore, or a mother to Daniel. And with Fergus in charge, she wasn’t even a content member of the clan.

But she couldn’t leave either. Not easily anyway. Humans could move around freely, but shifters had different rules. Clans were wary of loners—if not outright hostile—and they were slow to accept new members. It would take months of negotiations to find a new clan for herself, and then longer still before she felt like home there. But wolves weren’t meant to be alone. They needed the clan both for safety and their mental wellbeing.

Maybe she could return to the clan of her mate. She had been happy there, and even though she had been away for a century, many of the members remembered her and would welcome her with open arms. But could she return to the scene of her heartbreak?

She reached the small log hut that hunched on the side of the mountain near a brook that stayed unfrozen through most of the winter. Attached to it was a shed that had room for the snowmobile, firewood, and an ecological dry toilet that composted waste with almost no scent—that a human noise could detect anyway, and the wolf didn’t care.

She drove the snowmobile into the shed, carried her belongings inside the hut through a connecting door, and started a fire in the fireplace. While the place warmed up, she carried in more firewood and water from the brook before darkness fell. But her day wasn’t done yet; it became dark early in the winter. She had a quick bite of food and then stripped off her clothing. Opening the door to the freezing mountain wind, she shifted fast.

Are you ready? she asked her wolf, who grunted in answer. Let’s go hunt a wolf.

She headed to the edge of their territory and beyond, the darkness not an issue for a wolf’s eyes, the coldness kept at bay by the fur and the constant motion through the snow. She spotted a hare but let it be, and she passed a herd of deer hunkering in a small copse of fir trees without disturbing them.

She searched for hours but didn’t spot a single trace of the visiting alpha. He must’ve headed in the other direction, she noted to her other half.

Good. Let’s get back. The wind is picking up and I want food.

Chuckling at the grumpy tone, she circled back to the hut from the other direction, checking the area there too. But the wind was indeed picking up, messing the trails and disappearing all the scents as it made the loose surface snow fly. She could be standing next to another wolf and not smell them.

The hut was a welcoming sight in the darkness. Smoke was still rising from the chimney, which surprised her, as she had been gone for hours, but maybe a sentinel had wandered off his or her path and decided to stay the night. It wouldn’t be the first time. That was what the huts were for.

She shifted back to human on the porch, yanked the door open and surged into the warmth, closing the door fast behind her. She smelled the other wolf before she spotted him—and froze. Stranger.

And what a stranger he was. Standing in the middle of the floor, naked like her, was the most gorgeous specimen of a man she had seen in a long while.

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