I could tell Cooper wanted to talk more, but given that it was nearly four o’clock in the morning by then and I had been attacked by a bear and brought to a wolf den all in a matter of hours, all I could handle was the thought of sleep. So I politely excused myself, went upstairs with Balto, and collapsed onto my bed.
Which brings me to now—the moment that I wake up to see my best friend Finn peering down at me.
If I never mentioned this, Finn is, unfortunately, very good-looking.
Don’t get me wrong—he’s no Cooper or Dean. He’s not supernaturally attractive; he’s just, well, cute. He’s a bit gangly, but his bright, green eyes burn with friendly, warm intensity, and his messy, golden hair haloes his head like a lion’s mane—wild, yet graceful.
He has no idea how cute he is—never has. The
