The Lost Pack
He trots in a circle around Jax, his tail swishing, his mouth open in what looks suspiciously like a grin.
Jaxon claps his hands, squealing. “Uncle Cal! You’re so fast!”
Finally, all eyes turn toward Remy. He stands still, his jaw clenched, his posture tense, like a man bracing for impact.
“Remy?” I call softly. “You don’t have to.”
His gaze flicks toward me, lingering for a moment, before he exhales, and lets go. His shift is smooth, almost too smooth, his body folding into a massive wolf.
Bab Populer