I grab his shirt, yank him closer. “Promise?”
“Swear on my Jeep.”
“Good. Now help me survive practice before I hump your leg in front of everyone.”
He laughs, kisses my forehead. “My brave, filthy little wolf.”
Coach blew the whistle sharp enough to make my ears ring. “Gather round, everything! Line up! Human on the left. Wolves on the right. Move it!”
I froze mid-stretch. Wait what the f**k was this about? I thought to myself. Human on the left? Wolves on the right? Like we were about to play some f****d-up game of segregation dodgeball? My wolf snarled in my head, hackles up. (What is this bullshit? He’s ours. Ours. Not some outsider. Rip throats. Protect. Claim.)
I shot a look at Caleb. He was already drifting left, hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised like he found the whole thi
