So there we were. Two wolves. Two naked disasters. Standing waist-deep in a freezing river like it was some kind of sick mating reality show the Moon Goddess never asked for.

And of course, Gregor had the audacity—the sheer alpha arrogance—to look completely unbothered. Like strutting around stark naked in moonlight was his birthright.

Meanwhile, I was trying to stay submerged up to my chin, praying a family of ducks would adopt me before my dignity flatlined.

“Stop smirking,” I ...