Chapter 1 - Aris

I'm already awake when my alarm goes off at five. Groaning, I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes, trying to ease the grogginess. As though it has a mind of its own, my body is already moving through the steps to get me out the door and to the gym. I pull on my shorts, brush my teeth, and soon, I'm pounding my feet on the concrete outside my building as I run to the gym.

Lately, something's been keeping me from sleeping. It's this nagging feeling of anticipation, like something's just around the corner. My dad used to say that was your wolf's instinct, and ignoring it could be the last thing you ever did. I push thoughts of my dad out of my head—it's never worth it to linger on them. I always end up with a messy head.

The gym is practically empty when I arrive, and I move through my sets methodically. I like it better when it's empty and I can get in and out. The sun is just coming up when I make it back to my apartment building. I shower, dress for the visit to headquarters, and walk down the street to Bigby's condo.

I've barely knocked my fist against the wood when he opens up. If the look on his face is anything to go by, he's got a wolf's instinct about this meeting, too. I can sense his unease, but he looks just as polished as ever, and he gives his cat, luna, a final pat on the head before stepping out into the hallway.

His apartment is slightly nicer than mine, with long, marble hallways that glisten in the morning sun, but he also usually has more visitors than me. Bigby enjoys the occasional overnight guest and also has his sister and her kids over most nights when we're not on a mission. His sister, Bailey, has a husband who's in the agency like us and is gone a lot.

Either Bigby just doesn't like to talk about the brother-in-law, or there's nothing to say. There are a lot of positions at the agency that are so top-secret the operatives don't even know the full extent of their jobs.

But secrecy is important in our line of work. First, not all humans know about shifters or the paranormal in general, and second, corruption is at an all-time high, with various paranormals getting tired of adhering to anti-violence policies against humans when many humans continue to hunt us for sport.

"Think Percy will be on time today?" Bigby says, pulling me away from my thoughts of work. He turns to lock his door behind him, working on several different security measures. We'll likely be sent on a mission today, so he already has a duffel bag and a pack, like me. It makes sense that he wants to keep his apartment secure while we're gone. Bigby is annoyingly prepared.

I pass him a black coffee, no milk or sugar, as he turns back toward me. He accepts it readily and takes a long drink, clearly not minding the temperature.

"Not if he can help it," I say, taking a thick glug of my protein shake.

We set off down the sidewalk together. Neither of us wanted to be too far from headquarters, but the rest of the team is commuting from the suburbs.

"You look like shit," Bigby says after a moment of silent walking. I snort and roll my eyes.

"Gee, thanks, pal," I say, noting the fact that he's got bags under his eyes mirroring mine. "Couldn't sleep last night."

"Yeah," Bigby says, taking a long pull from his coffee. "Me neither. Feels like something's up. Just don't know what."

"Same for me. Wish we could just have this meeting over with."

"Soon," Bigby says, in as close to a reassuring voice as he can get. No matter what happens today, knowing he has my back helps to soothe my itching paranoia. Bigby is a big guy, with an inch and more than a few pounds on me. He wears his hair cut close to his head, sports rings on each hand and a gold chain around his neck, and always outdresses me in his custom-tailored suits and dress shirts.

Though he's the biggest in our squad, his true strength is his intelligence. He's my right-hand man for a few reasons, but his ability to strategize is paramount. Bigby may be bigger than me, but we both know that if it came down to it, I'd take him in a fight simply because I have a certain ferocity to me that he lacks. Bigby would much rather be in an intellectual debate than a fight, but he can hold his own in both arenas.

When we reach headquarters, we deposit our weapons in the bin and walk through the metal detector, going through a retina scan and fingerprint test before our weapons are returned and we're granted access to the main building.

Officially, we're a highly classified special ops team working out of D.C. with a focus on "maintaining the peace." Unofficially, we're the link between human civilians and other paranormal communities. Our team, made up entirely of shifters, specializes in that community.

"Morning, Aris. Bigs," Ado says, appearing at our side quietly. He's soft-spoken and rarely provides input unless necessary, but he's one of our most dangerous assets. Just above five feet, Bigby and I tower over him, but I once saw him take down six rogue shifters with a pocketknife and a bottle of Coke.

The rest of us have deep, hidden reservations about killing other shifters that may stem from centuries of watching each other die off at the hands of angry humans. I feel it sometimes just before I'm about to finish a shifter off—this innate urge to protect one of my own. Ado doesn't share these same reservations and kills with a ruthlessness that I envy.

"Good morning," Bigby returns. I nod at Ado, and we continue down the hall to our primary meeting room. The main concourse is huge and bright, with an LED display of the globe hanging over the center of the room, lit up with tiny dots that represent the supernatural population of Earth. Bigby could tell you what each color represents, I only know that the dark blue represents shifters, and a large population of those are wolf shifters—or werewolves, as some like to call us.

Byron and Eva are already waiting in the conference room for us when we walk in. Byron is typing away on his laptop, as he always is, and Eva tapping her red nails against the table impatiently. Eva is somewhat like Bigby, relentlessly organized and always itching for the next assignment, but there's something reckless and daring about her—like she wouldn't hesitate to tear your throat out if it meant getting ahead.

Eva gives us all a curt nod, and Byron moves his head a bit without looking up from his laptop. Byron, with his brilliant blue hair, is our tech geek. He is a shifter like the rest of us, but none of us have ever seen him shift. Percy keeps trying to make bets with the team about whether his fur would also be that same vibrant blue.

"Speaking of Percy," Bigby says, shooting me a look, and I realize I've let that last part be a little too loud in my thoughts. Bigby and I have the closest link in the team, so he is the only one likely to have heard it. I glance at Byron, who's still staring down at his computer screen intently, giving no sign that he heard the bit about the blue fur. "I wonder just how late he's going to be today."

"Good morning," the commander says, shuffling into the room. He's a small man in a tweed jacket who looks more like an English professor than the highly esteemed leader of a top-secret operations group, but there are rumors that when he shifts, he's the size of an F-150. I watch the little man as he places his papers down and looks at each of us. "I see Heroux is missing, as per usual. Perhaps we should start docking his pay."

Eva lets out a little chuckle, Bigby shakes his head, and Byron reluctantly lowers his laptop screen halfway so he can still peek at it throughout the meeting. The commander powers on the projector and clears his throat.

"Today's meeting is about a rogue wolf shifter pack. Though they're located in a small town, they're proving to be a major source of trouble. Rosecreek, as you may know, is a tiny settlement along the Mississippi River."

I can feel Bigby's eyes drilling a hole in the side of my head, but I refuse to turn and look at him. We're both from Rosecreek, having gone to high school together, though we barely knew each other then. It's a town with a lot of history for the both of us, and I'm not exactly excited to be going back.

"With a population of just under a thousand, it's a tight-knit community, and many of the humans there are even aware of and live peacefully with shifter presence," the commander continues. "However, recently, it's come to our attention that the alpha there, Alexander Varun, is not acting in accordance with the Maan Pact. His reckless drug dealing, in particular, has landed our division in some hot water with the DEA. We don't want dead agents on our hands, so we're sending you boys in there to deal with it."

So that's what the wolf's instinct was about. I wonder if it was piqued at the reality of what's happening in my hometown or at the fact that I would have to witness it for myself.

"Do we have any surveillance in Rosecreek?" Eva asks, and Byron uses that as a cue to reopen his laptop, hitting a few buttons before giving a shake of the head.

"Two traffic cameras, one above an ATM. Otherwise, nothing."

"It's a really small town," Bigby says, glancing again at me. "I'm surprised it's even on our radar."

"It'll be the most delicate case you've taken on," the commander says, eyeing us. "Our goal is to intervene in the illegal activity and subtly remind this alpha that there are eyes on him and that everyone adheres to the pacts, including him and the Rosecreek pack. Primary objective is to reduce the reckless, illegal activity with zero casualties, especially human casualties."

His emphasis on human casualties leads me to believe there have already been some. I think of when my father was alpha and the strict rules he had about interacting with humans. What is this new alpha doing?

"Are shifter casualties permitted?" Ado asks in a careful voice.

"Potentially," the commander says, glancing at Ado through thick, square glasses. Ado's face is a careful mask of calm, as always, but it's not surprising that he's already thinking of who he might take down during the mission. I wonder if Ado is thinking about this alpha, Varun. I wonder if the rest of my team members know just how Varun came to be the alpha in Rosecreek.

"One last thing," the commander says. "This alpha, there are rumors about other mistreatments. We try not to interfere with pack politics, but I'd like you all to check out the claims and see if they're substantiated."

I feel a bristle down my back at the idea of what this guy might be doing to my old pack-mates. The rest of the team goes quiet as well, and the tension in the room heightens. We've all seen our fair share of alphas who get drunk with power, taking advantage of the people in their packs and the natural loyalty they feel.

Bigby is still looking at me. I work hard to give him nothing—not a flicker of emotion—to work with.

"Hey guys!"

A voice reverberates through the room, and we all turn to look at Percy, who's just come waltzing in, holding a hot pink box in one hand and a drink carrier with frozen drinks in the other.

"Sorry I'm late, but I thought I could soften the blow with donuts and frappes."

Eva and Bigby turn up their noses at the frozen, sugary coffee drinks, but Ado accepts one quietly. Percy takes a drink, oblivious to our stunned silence. He has a tiny dot of whipped cream on his nose. Byron reaches over and takes a donut, but the atmosphere in the room is still fraught.

Two months ago, we conducted a raid on a rogue alpha. When we infiltrated his mansion, we found several female shifters bound and gagged in the basement, and that was one of the tamer abuses we witnessed. I shudder slightly, thinking of the female shifters in Varun's pack, and of one in particular, though I try to avoid the flashbacks.

Soft, curly hair. Freckles. One stupid kiss on prom night. I'd abandoned my date and was wandering the halls with something unsettling lodged in my chest, and there she was: leaning against the wall, tears streaking softly down her cheeks.

I'd never felt rage like what I felt then. I'd wracked my brain, trying to remember who she'd come with, but I didn't know. My body had felt drawn to her, and there I was, standing in front of her, looking down at the mascara streaked across her face.

When I think about her there and what the alpha might be doing, I force myself to take a deep breath to keep my cool.

I'm jolted out of my reverie as Percy snatches a donut and takes a noisy bite. He looks around the room cheerfully, then mumbles at us through frosting and sprinkles, with a tone far too bright for the information we've just received.

"What did I miss?"