“He’s the son of our Alpha, the crown prince of our king,” the wolf shifter said.
It was the night before 9/11. Cameron sat in her room upstairs in the old house on the outskirts of Fairbanks, Alaska.
From her bed, she watched the storm lash the window outside, as she cuddled the wolf pup she’d rescued earlier that evening.
The wolf pup that had been yelping for dear life as an eagle carried it away. The wolf pup she had spotted and heard and flung her hand out in desperation for. The wolf pup that had fallen from the eagle’s talons, as if the bird of prey had been
struck.
