Chapter 5

Sam

I blasted the heater and aimed all the vents at Meg, who sat shivering in my sweats on the passenger side. Man, she looked good in my clothes. I shook my head. She may be my wolf's mate—a rare enough phenomenon in itself—but clearly, she was not reciprocating any warm fuzzies. Which was puzzling, since I was the one who bit her. Apparently, it didn't go both ways. I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but I did know I was in way over my head and that I'd be in a whole pile of crap once my dad found out.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, clutching my jacket over her. I'd tried to be quiet and let her process. The silence was deafening.

Finally, unable to stand the stillness, I slowly reached my hand out to her.

"Mm-nn. Don't touch me."

I jerked my hand back, Wolf whining inside at the terror in her voice. "What can I say, Meg?"

"Is this permanent? No chance of cure?"

"It's always permanent when you're bitten by a wolf, but since I was fully human at the time, and you didn't change right away…it would be something to double check with my dad."

"Your parents know?" She somehow seemed both hopeful and scandalized at the thought.

I nodded. "My dad is the leader of our pack."

She blinked twice.

"Your pack. How many is the…pack?"

"There are fifty-three of us. We're a fairly large pack."

"Fifty-four," she muttered.

I had no idea what to say. After another minute of silence, she spoke softly. "Sam, I want to go home."

I'd been dreading this unavoidable topic. My stomach lurched while my wolf crawled back into the dark recesses, leaving the human me to deal with this alone. Wimp, I silently chided my wolf.

"Megan, you can't go home."

Despair settled over her face.

"What do you mean, I can't go home?" Her voice broke on the word home.

I sighed. "You're unstable. For at least the next few days and probably the next few weeks at night, you won't be able to totally control your phasing. You'll shift randomly as you and your wolf adjust to each other. You could hurt anyone in the vicinity, not to mention scaring them half to death, and you'd reveal the existence of werewolves." I tried to be gentle, but firm. This was so much for her to take in but going home wasn't an option for her right now. She needed the pack—she needed me—whether or not she realized it or wanted it.

She was silent for a long minute. Her jaw clenched.

"Screw you, Sam." Her voice cracked, and she furiously swiped a tear that trailed down her cheek.

A slap across the face would have hurt less. Wolf cringed at her anger and desolation, wanting to comfort, completely unable to.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Megan. I don't know what else to do. You need to come home with me and let my dad and the pack help you. They may know something I don't." Dread filled me, and Wolf whined as I thought of explaining this to my father. Being the son of the Alpha wasn't easy. There were expectations, and no matter how hard I tried, I always felt like I came up short. Tonight's events would plunge my father's opinion of me to uncharted depths.

"Fine." She frowned, resigned. She got her phone out of her purse from the floorboard.

"Who are you calling?"

She stared at me. "My grandpa needs to know not to expect me home tonight then, don't you think?"

I nodded, guilt swamping me. George Carmichael was the only family she had left. They loved each other fiercely in a way that I envied. I had the pack, and I had my parents, but things with my dad, especially, weren't perfect. Sometimes I wished we could just be a regular father and son, without being an Alpha and Beta.

I pulled the car away from the curb, thankful that no one had happened upon the whole first-human-into-wolf experience.

"Hi, Grandpa," Meg said in a forced light tone. "I'm going to stay at Rachel's tonight if that's okay. She's having some boy trouble and could use the moral support." It was a good excuse. Megan and Rachel had been inseparable since first grade.

"Okay," she said after a pause on the other end. "Love you, too, Grandpa." She hung up, sniffed, and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

I started to apologize again, but she cut me off, her voice weary.

"It's not that. I've never lied to my grandpa before."

****

We had to pull over one more time for Meg to shift before we got to my house. Unfortunately, the sweatshirt I'd loaned her didn't make it. We arrived in my driveway both half-dressed—Megan in my shirt, sweatpants, and jacket, me in my jeans and my shoes. This wasn't exactly how I'd envisioned bringing my mate home to meet my parents.

I slowly took the key out of the ignition, avoiding the coming confrontation as long as possible.

"Meg," I began hesitantly. I swallowed. "My parents are likely to be almost as shocked by this as you are. They may say things they don't really mean. Whatever comes, I promise I won't let anything else happen to you. Okay?"

Her eyes, dark and large in her pale face, stared at me for a full minute, sizing me up.

"Promise you won't let me…shift in front of them?"

I nodded. "Promise."

Discreetly, she brushed a tear from her cheek. I wished she'd let me do that. This would be easier for me if she'd let me at least try to comfort her.

The night air was cold on my bare chest as I walked to Meg's door and opened it. Her face tightened up as she slowly got out, refusing my help once again.

The sidewalk to the front porch seemed to stretch for a thousand miles. It was both the shortest and longest walk of my life.