Romans & histoires Books Like Wild By Cheryl Strayed

"Do you know any other stories about wolves that I might like?" "Oh, there are so many great ones!" she says, her eyes lighting up. "Have you ever read 'The Call of the Wild' or 'White Fang' by Jack London? They're both classics about the wilds of Alaska and the life of a wolf. Or 'Never Cry Wolf' by Farley Mowat - it's a nonfiction book about a biologist who studies wolves in the Canadian Arctic.” “Calm down!” I laughed. “You know a lot. What are you? A beta wolf?” I joked and Lauren laughed.

Wild got a new read today. The Incredible Journey is what it was called, and it was the story of two dogs and a cat trying to go home to their humans by crossing the Himalayan mountains. They faced many dangers and hardships, but eventually, they got home. It was a heartwarming story that Wild enjoyed while he waited for Elaine and Jon to get back to the facility. It was nothing like Call of the Wild or White Fang, but the kinship was much appreciated, so he liked it. It reminded him of his own kin that he was going to save, one way or another.

“You did nothing wrong.” Her pulse refused to slow. The Northern Wolves. The book. She had taken it without understanding why, back when escape had been all instinct and terror. Taken it from Lucian’s study, heart racing as if it already knew it mattered. It told a history Wildbourne never taught. Wolves as balance. Hunters as something broken long ago. Some nights she believed it completely. Other nights, she feared it was dangerous just to read. It had become Ever’s favourite story. Now she knelt in the sandpit, holding Ever close, eyes darting as the ground beneath them seemed to hum.

Then, he waved to a waiter and ordered some food for us. Jared quietened down after the orders were taken and stared at me with his eyes glazed over, looking a little lost. I knew he had taken too big a sip of whiskey earlier and was struggling to stay clear-headed. Just as I wondered if I should take the opportunity to bring up my resignation and have him approve it while he was in a daze, I realized that he was burning a hole in my head with that blatant, fiery gaze of his. I felt my goosebumps rising.

She seemed to like yanking his chain. He ordered steak, salad and a baked potato, and pulled the crumpled Kentucky road map out of his pocket to gauge how far out of his way he 'd gone in his wild pursuit. Not that he 'd really had any destination to begin with. He kept his vacation plans deliberately to find his mate after serious discussion with his friend, since he was only one without mate because of his company and many contracts he was handling, he never had chance for himself , figuring that it would do him good to practice spontaneity. Well he was practising it now, with vengeance. It had started at a restaurant off 1-95, right after Philadelphia. The sight of her walking out of the

Leaves and twigs crushed beneath his weight as he sprinted through the underbrush, the wildness of the wilderness matching the untamed fury in his heart. As he raced deeper into the woods, memories of the encounter with Alpha Drake and Amanda, coupled with what happened at Jane's home tore at William's heart. He had heard stories of lone wolves seeking solace in the embrace of nature, finding peace amidst the untamed beauty of the forest. In his anger and confusion, he hoped that the wilderness would grant him the clarity he so desperately needed.

I asked more to myself than to them. "The male has more animalistic instinct than the female wolf. And his blood is very pure. You know that." My mom try to reassure me. "You don't understand. All of the sudden I can't be far from him. I don't tell him, because I'm too proud. But I'm always searching for him, even where he is not supposed to be. It's not fair to have zero control over myself when it comes to him." I start to cry "this is so surreal. In a matter of days he turned my life upside down."

It wasn’t every day I got to see the Savage himself at one of these races. I tilted my head skyward, spotting rows upon rows of werewolves lining the rooftops of the buildings–the onyx sky dappled with the brilliant glow of their eyes. It was a kaleidoscope of color as they peered around, leaving warped, mystical shapes in their wake. My attention snagged toward a woman standing a few people to our left, raising her candy-red blouse and flashed her chest toward the bikers. Her shrill voice carried over the crowd despite the noise as she shouted, “Savage! Hey Savage! Look here, baby!”

Riley’s POV The warehouse stood like a jagged tooth against the gray sky. It smelled of rust, salt, and impending death. I looked at the nine girls standing around me. We were the "Wild Cats," the lethal weapons of the Triplets. But today, I didn't want to be a weapon. I wanted to be free. I checked my belt. My pistol was heavy. I felt the cold handle of the knife hidden in my pocket. It pressed against my thigh, a sharp reminder of the world I lived in.

I mentally curse at Ethan for being way too kind and forgiving her way too quickly. I was currently sitting alone in the lobby, waiting for Leah to come back. The bright light in the room acted as the perfect reading light as I tried to escape the loneliness by burying myself in Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. I only brought one book with me on this trip, but one thousand and thirty-seven pages were probably enough to keep me company for the reminder of the trip.