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EXTRACT - When I Was a Wolf

Page 1


Published by Barrington Stoke

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 Robroyston Gate, Glasgow, G33 1JN

www.barringtonstoke.co.uk

HarperCollinsPublishers

Macken House, 39/40 Mayor Street Upper, Dublin 1, DO1 C9W8, Ireland

First published in 2026

Text © 2026 Liz Flanagan

Illustrations © 2026 Nikola Aronova

Cover design © 2026 HarperCollinsPublishers Limited

The moral right of Liz Flanagan and Nikola Aronova to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

ISBN 978-0-00-880077-2

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in whole or in any part in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher and copyright owners

Without limiting the exclusive rights of any author, contributor or the publisher of this publication, any unauthorised use of this publication to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies is expressly prohibited. HarperCollins also exercise their rights under Article 4(3) of the Digital Single Market Directive 2019/790 and expressly reserve this publication from the text and data mining exception

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Printed and bound in India by Replika Press Pvt. Ltd.

For all the grandparents

CHAPTER 1

Most people don’t know about wolves. They think they do. The Big Bad Wolf in the dark forest. All that stuff. But they don’t understand.

“Put your wolf book away now, Jasmine,” Mum says. “It’s time for our walk. Haven’t you read it a hundred times already?” She smiles.

I run to the door because I love to walk with my mum. She’s right. I have read that book so often that I know every word. I put on my coat and gloves. Then we go out into the frosty evening.

“What new wolf facts can you tell me tonight?” Mum asks. Her breath puffs out in white clouds.

“Wolves are gentle,” I tell her. My cheeks feel tingly cold.

“You mean wolves are gentle when they’re not hunting?” Mum asks and grins.

“Yeah, of course,” I say. I think Mum’s trying to be funny. “The mum and dad look after their pups so well,” I say. “The rest of the pack does too. They take it in turns to teach the pups and play with them.”

“A bit like us!” Mum says, laughing.

So I tip my head back and howl. Mum joins in as we walk down the street.

“Arrr‑ooooo!” we howl at the moon.

She’s right. We are like a wolf pack. I live with my mum, but each day I see my gran and my aunties and our neighbours. There is always someone visiting our home.

Everyone shows me something different. My gran is good at singing. My aunties take me to the park. Our neighbour teaches me to play cards.

But my favourite time is now: when Mum and I have a walk after our tea. Now that it’s winter, it’s dark and all the lights are on.

I look around and count all the things I like.

I like the shop windows, all lit up.

I like the winter lights, leading away like bright ribbons.

I like the trees, full of lanterns like stars.

I like the lights on cars and bikes as everyone heads home after a busy day.

I like holding Mum’s hand, glove in glove, as we talk and talk and talk.

When we get home, Mum makes hot chocolate to warm us up. I sniff the sweet steam from the cup and sip my drink. Then I get into bed and look at my wolf book. Again!

That night, I dream an enormous wolf is coming down our street, getting nearer and nearer and nearer.

That was the end of the last good day. The last day before everything changed.

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