1. Thorne

May the gods save me from young werewolves.

My beta, who also happens to be my brother Evander, lurks on the other side of the desk. After waltzing in and delivering this little news update, he's been half smirking, half waiting for orders. He gives me a look. "So. What do you want me to do."

I huff out a breath and slink into my chair. "Leave him there?"

My brother barks out a laugh. "Come on, Thorne. You know that's not an option."

"Why not?"

He leans, folding his arms. "Because we did stuff that was twice as stupid when we were his age?"

"We were smart enough not to get caught," I growl.

We definitely didn't get drunk, pass out in our wolf forms, and get taken in by wildlife officers.

Pinching the bridge of my nose against the headache that's threatening to appear there, I lean forward. "We should never have supported that wolf introduction act."

Evander snorts. "We should never have moved to Colorado."

Internally, I wince, because I know he's right.

And I know it's all my fault.

Three years ago, my father died suddenly. At the last possible second, he passed the title of alpha of the pack down to me, passing about five minutes later. I hadn't known at the time that along with the title, he would be handing me a giant fucked-up knot of problems.

It took one year to sort most of them out. Then, when the debts were paid and the bribes in the right hands, there was one last thorny issue to deal with.

Dear Old Dad had sold the pack's land in Alaska. Some kind of deal with wolverines that I refused to get too into the weeds with, because I was certain that if I did, I'd have to report it to the FBI.

I refused to pay rent to wolverines for land that had been ours. I gathered the pack's meager assets, and I bought a town, complete with land and one refugee faerie who comes with it.

In Colorado.

Where there are no naturally occurring wolves.

However, there had been a bill on the table in the state legislature at the time for a wolf re-introduction project. Given that wolves are hunted all over the States right now, it seemed like a blessing from the gods.

It seemed perfect.

Evander had advised me against it.

Now, with the pack finally settling in to our town of Oakwood, I realize the wisdom in his words.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. I glare at him, annoyed by his smirk. "But we're here now. So how the fuck do we get the kid back?"

"You're the alpha, brother," he says with that same teasing smirk. "You command, I shall obey."

"Shut the fuck up," I snap at him. "You're not funny."

"I'm hilarious and you know it."

I sigh again, leaning back in my chair. "Run me through what happened again?"

"Four teenage wolves, two male, two female. Stole someone's stash of moonshine and got drunk. Decided it would be fun to stir up some trouble in town and got their picture taken and put online. One got a little too drunk and passed out behind a restaurant. The other three saw authorities pick him up, put a collar on him, and load him full of tranquilizers before putting him in the truck."

"Any idea where they went?"

Evander nods. "Probably to Green Mountain Rehab."

Ugh.

Not only is the pup in human hands, but he's with a bunch of people who know far too much about wolf anatomy not to notice that something is off about him. When we shift, we're anatomically wolves, but anyone who knows a lot about wolves will see something is off.

The size, for one. The kid is likely to be larger than any grown wolf, and he's clearly still a pup.

If he happens to wake up and panic shifts back into his human form, they're bound to notice that too.

"It's not a big deal, Thorne," Evander says, his tone a little gentler this time. "It was bound to happen in this situation."

I grunt.

The fact that wild wolves have been re-introduced into Colorado was supposed to be our cover. Instead, we're on the receiving end of endless scrutiny. Local news stations basically broadcast anytime there's a sighting, and we've been in the paper multiple times, in towns as far away as Denver.

The pups thinking it would be funny to get the townsfolk to take their picture is absolutely something that dumb kids would think is funny. Also, very predictable, as this is what they do every time.

Unfortunately, they also call Colorado Parks and Wildlife the second one of us gets too close in our wolf bodies.

We've been trying to work on getting that to go away and have it all seem more normal. However, it takes time to do that.

And we haven't been here that long.

"Seriously, T, I'll just go grab him."

I sigh and stand. "No, I'm going to go."

He arches an eyebrow. "This seems like a waste of your time, brother."

"I'm the alpha. If anyone is going to scare the shit out of him, and keep him from ever doing it again, it's me."

"You think you're scary?"

In response, I snarl at Evander.

His eyes narrow, but he backs down. He puts his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when his mom complains about you using your alpha voice to scare him in the next council meeting."

"Don't remind me," I snap.

I have no idea how my father did it. He wasn't a particularly patient man, but somehow, he put up with all of this bullshit with a smile on his face.

I guess the mountain of debt the pack was in says otherwise, though.

I grab they keys to my truck and shoot one last glare at Evander. "Don't burn the place down while I'm gone."

He chuckles. "It's in good hands, Thorne."

Yeah.

Better than mine, I'm sure.

The drivefrom our pack lands to Oakwood is about thirty minutes. We all have residences in town, or near it, but Evander and I prefer to stay at the cabin that's tucked away at the base of a mountain nearby. The humans in town make my skin itch, and this way, I can supervise any of the wolves who want to shift and run free.

To make sure the humans don't see them, of course.

Green Mountain Wildlife Rehabilitation Center is an additional thirty minutes in the opposite direction. It's a sprawling facility, and when I pull up, I see the sun glittering off of a lake in the background.

I park the truck, noting with a wince that the engine is making that whining noise again.

As alpha, I should probably drive something nicer. Something that is worthy of the title, as my dad would say.

I can afford it, but this truck has been through a lot with me.

The facility is really nice. When I walk in, I notice the new floors and walls. Someone recently sunk a ton of money into it.

Good for you, voters of Colorado.

There's no one at the front desk, so I wait a minute. Finally, I lean forward, venturing a cautious look.

"Hello?"

I hear rustling.

Within moments, I hear someone. "Coming!" a woman's voice calls.

I turn around, studying some of the pictures. They're great; images of bears and moose, and even a coyote hunting a mouse.

Little shits. Coyotes are assholes on purpose, I swear.

"Can I help you?"

I turn, and the breath in my chest explodes out in a huff.

The woman at the front desk is beautiful.

She's probably about a hundred pounds soaking wet, built like a sparrow. Her hazel eyes sparkle in her face, setting off her brilliant smile, and her blonde hair kisses the tops of her shoulders.

Her eyes waver. "Um. Hello?"

Oh.

Words. I need to use words. "Hi," I say, with way too much gravel in my voice.

"Hi. Did you need something?"

Fuck.

I only half thought this through. Evander and I had thought of a contingency plan at the last minute, but it seems stupid as hell now.

"Um. I came to get a wolf."

Instantly her smile dissolves. She frowns, and her hands go to her hips. "Excuse me?"

"A wolf," I say, like an idiot. "The one who was brought in here? He's mine."

"That's not possible," she says crisply.

Suddenly, the leash and paperwork I'd brought as part of Evander's and my plan seem impossibly dumb. "Here," I say, shoving the papers onto the table.

Her eyes narrow and she scans them. "This says you run a wildlife rescue."

"I do."

"I haven't heard of a new one in the area."

"We're very, very new," I say somewhat honestly. I'm not sure what it is about her, but this tiny human woman makes my tongue trip up and my thoughts blur.

This is ridiculous. You are an alpha. Get yourself the fuck together.

"We just moved in last week," I repeat a little more cohesively.

Those hazel eyes study me, like she's looking for weakness. "Did you?"

"Yep," I say, keeping my words short so I don't fuck them up.

"And how did this wolf escape?"

"Hole in the fence."

"The department didn't check your fences before you were allowed to open?"

"They did," I say with all the possible arrogance I can muster. "Must have missed a spot."

She glances at the paperwork, then up at me. "I don't believe you."

The words surprise me. Here she is, about the size of a large rabbit, and she's flat-out denying that my story is real.

It isn't.

She has great instincts.

But I also know that I'm not exactly someone people stand up to.

I lean on the desk. "Don't matter," I say in a low tone. "He's my wolf."

"He's no one's wolf. Wolves don't belong to people," she says in that same crisp tone.

Okay. I like that.

"He's a wolf that I'm helping. Look," I say, gesturing to the collar. "I'll get him out of your hair, and then you can be on with your day."

She stares at me. Stares at the paper.

Her eyes narrow into little slits, and I can see an angry blush on her cheeks.

Oh, she's pissed at me. She wants to hold him here.

I glance at her name tag. "Iris," I read.

"What?" she barks.

"You can come check on him at our facility," I say quickly.

Her eyes widen. "Pardon?"

"If you're worried. You can come stop by anytime," I say.

As the words leave my mouth, I kick myself.

Of all the fucking stupid things to say right now, that's the dumbest one I could have possibly come up with. She definitely cannot stop by anytime. She can't even come near the pack, because she can't know that shifters exist.

She's human. Completely, totally, and thoroughly human. I don't need to smell her to know that's true.

There's no way I'm going to let her inspect a nonexistent wildlife rescue, and no way she can see this kid again.

But I have to get out of here.

Finally, she seems to sigh. Her nostrils flare. "Fine. Give me the address, and I'll be there in a week to check on him."

Fuck.

"Give me your number so I can call you when he's better," I say instead.

She nods. "Yes. That sounds better anyway. She writes it down without question and hands it to me, and I'm even more intrigued. Whoever Iris is, she's willing to give her phone number to a stranger.

All to check on a teenage wolf.

"He's here," she says, gesturing for me to follow.

I do.

Locked in a dog-sized kennel, the kid looks groggy, but awake. Thank the gods that he's had the good sense to stay in his wolf body.

His eyes widen as he looks at me.

"Here, Silver," I say, making up a name. I hold the collar out, hoping the kid is smart enough to get what I mean.

He is.

Gently, I snap the collar in place around his neck. He follows me willingly, and we pad out.

Iris follows.

Outside of the truck, I put the kid in the backseat. I turn and look at Iris.

She's glaring at me, arms folded over her chest. "One week. If you don't call me before then, I'm calling Parks and Wildlife on you."

"Noted," I say.

With a curt nod, she turns, and walks back into the rehab center.

I watch her go.

Shaking my head at the beautiful human's audacity, I climb into the truck. I throw some sweatpants in the back seat. "Shift," I command.

Behind me I smell the spark of magic, and the kid shifts. "Alpha, it was just meant to be fun, I didn't…"

"Shut it," I snap. "You are on fucking trash duty until your eighteenth birthday."

The kid groans. He slumps in the seat, clearly sulking.

As I pull away, I take one last look at the center.

Iris.

I have one week to figure out what to do about her.

Or there will be even more hell to pay.