“When there’s a full moon, wolven get—” He paused, trying hard to find the right word. “Feral. We revert back to some of our base instincts. We hunt, chase, and, well, fuck, under the light of the moon. We go into something called rut. The sex is primal, uncontrolled, rough, and, uh, it can last for hours. It’s how our kind connect with nature and with one another. And eventually—” Another pause and Atlas looked at me thoughtfully. “That’s how we connect with our mates. ”
