Clay Wof Fanart Novels & Stories

BLAKE’S POV There was something wrong. The way she moved. The way she spoke. Even the way she looked! But most importantly, the way she held the clay. Clara was angry, everyone could tell that, but what was surprising was how she held the clay in her hands that she was using to demonstrate how to burnish after molding. The sides of the almost hardened clay were beginning to crack from the pressure her palms exerted on them. All of us were deathly quiet probably to know if we could hear the bowl crack, but mostly so our heads wouldn’t be next in line.

I told him, though the truth of that statement was questionable at best. He disappeared again, and we moved to his studio at the back of his office, lights flickering on, revealing the chaos of his creative space. Paintings he was working on were everywhere. One rough painting caught my eye – a black and white wolf locked in a fight, half-finished but full of emotion. There were a couple of line drawings, one just of Lexi, the other of Lexi and me. Seeing the love and care Clay had already put into them broke my heart. Lexi's eyes widened as she looked at the artwork Clay had been working on. "Wow, he is really talented," she breathed, admiration clear in her voice.

Clay pushed off against the table and walked around admiring her art and framed pictures in the room "Well, I thought you'd at least be happy to see me here," he said casually, and Lorraine felt a bit aggrieved. She had been too preoccupied with keeping herself together and appearing neat that she didn't even try to be a good guest. She saw him gazing at her art, "That's Filo Niu," she said, and he turned to her in confusion "What?" Clay asked "It's my first painting ever. Look around; this is what started this absurd dream," she said unenthusiastically,

"I think you let them bury me." Cole didn't argue. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and tossed it into my lap. [RYDER GLOBAL WITHDRAWS ALL FUNDING FROM WOODCARVING ASSOCIATION; CITES BIAS AND FRAUD IN RECENT JUDGING.] I stared at the headline. He hadn't just defended me; he’d defunded the entire institution. "Is this supposed to make me want to have your heirs?" I asked, a small smile finally breaking through.

It’s no surprise why he hasn’t found his true mate for his usual stench, especially in the heat of summer, probably offends the moon. Clay is making a game out of trying to get Wolfe to drop his junk food haul by poking him in the ribs on the way. He is the instigator, the one who likes to cause the fuckery and chaos. Clay Ironclaw’s picture could be found next to hellion. The girls, both human and wolf alike, go crazy over him. He’s all blonde curls, grey eyes and too many nauseating muscles to count. His muscles have muscles, and he is a fucking vegetarian in his human form. I thought that would be grounds for the pack to ban him alone, but nope. He’s only a year older than me, we used to

Hymar points at a thickset guy wearing a blue jersey, “that’s Andrew Boone. He’s a landscape painter, but the kind where the sky looks like it’s breathing. His girlfriend Janey is the one who dragged him here, she’s a ceramicist.” Andrew lifts his glass in salute and Janey, curly-haired and bright-eyed, adds, “He hates crowds but loves free wine.” That draws some laughter. In the far corner, Alex and Jodie are talking quietly, and there’s something forced about their conversation. “Last but not least is Claire Voss.” He gestures an auburn-haired woman with a shy smile. “She does figurative work, mostly vulnerable nudes. Her boyfriend Nate’s running late, he’s a photographer.”