Chapter 4

At least I'll never see him again, I thought, waiting for the elevator to reach my floor. My least dignified moment would just have to be getting caught naked on the side of the road while joyrunning, wouldn't it?

Especially by an alpha.

While his name sounded vaguely familiar, it was a relief to discover he wasn't a local Packmaster but a visitor from out of town. Gossip traveled fast among Shifters, and a rumor like that might affect our business sales. Moonglow was not only my venture but also Mel's. This was our security deposit on our future—a sustainable income that would be an attractive asset for a Packmaster accepting new additions. In an ideal world, Melody and I would join the same pack. But even if we didn't, creating separate business accounts wouldn't be terribly difficult. Yet careless stunts could jeopardize not only our business but also our chances of joining a reputable pack in the territory. It hadn't sunk in until the moment I was caught.

I gripped the waistband of the baggy jeans the stranger had given me and headed down the hallway toward my apartment. What kind of world did we live in where people freely stole clothing without regard? Thank the fates they hadn't found my keys and taken off with the car.

As soon as I opened the door, Lakota materialized in front of me.

"Didn't you get my messages?"

I set my keys on the accent table. "No. Was there an emergency?"

Lakota's cross look made me shrink with guilt. He must have left the messages when I was out on my run, and I hadn't bothered to check my phone on the way home.

"I have to get ready for work."

Lakota folded his arms. "Where have you been all this time? When you didn't answer, I came back home to see if you left your phone behind. Needless to say, I've been worrying my ass off. This is what happens when you don't tell me where you're—" His eyes skated down and narrowed. "Why are you wearing men's clothes?"

I swung a left, the long pants dragging beneath my feet as I shuffled down the hall.

"Where have you been?" he said sharply.

"You're not my keeper!"

Lakota seized my arm. "Don't play these games, Hope. I'm not your Packmaster or even an alpha, but I'm your brother. I'm family. That should count for something. Family looks out for each other, and maybe I'm concerned that my little sister was incommunicado for the past six hours and then shows up in men's clothes."

I sighed and turned to face him. "Must I always explain everything I do and everywhere I go? Don't you trust me?"

"Ask me how much I trust some of the jokers in this town who would like nothing more than to bang Lorenzo Church's only daughter. You're a trophy to half the men around here."

Still gripping the jeans with one hand, I gently pulled my arm out of his grasp. "You have nothing to be concerned about. I'm a woman of twenty-four, Lakota. I would never pair up with an unworthy man, especially behind your back. I have too many good things in my life to throw it all away for a wolf who doesn't respect me enough to meet my family. Will you trust me on this?"

He lowered his head and sighed. "Come home as soon as you lock up the store. We're still planning to leave tonight."

"Most people begin trips in the morning."

He lifted his head and flashed a bright smile. "I'm not most people. Traffic is better at night, and Mel will sleep until morning. Then we'll switch so we can drive straight through. Promise me you'll be here? I can't leave without knowing you're home safe."

"I promise."

I reached for the doorknob.

"Good. And Hope? I trust you. But someday soon, you're going to tell me why you're wearing those clothes."

When I closed the door to my room, I let the jeans drop to the floor. I hated lying to Lakota, but even worse, I hated his criticism. Shifting on private property owned by the Council was wrong, but what choice did I have? We didn't own land, and if I hadn't let my spirit wolf go for a run, there could have been consequences. I was still learning to find harmony with my animal, so I had to release her lest she decide to shift at an inopportune time, like at work later this afternoon.

I reached across the bed and closed the blinds. Because we had a corner unit, plenty of light poured into the bedrooms as well as the living room and kitchen. Both bedrooms were on the right side of the hall and the bathroom at the end. To give myself room to work, I'd purchased a twin bed for the right-hand corner. Against the left wall was a desk my mother had built. Wide drawers framed each side, and she'd built a back shelf with small drawers and hooks to hold my stones, beading, and accessories. Shikoba sent me gemstones in large shipments, and the boxes easily fit beneath the desk until I could sort through them. It was a beautiful thing to be able to wake up each morning and look at my dreams.

I removed my sandals and placed them on the shoe rack inside my closet, which was filled to the brim with some of Melody's fabrics. We were running out of room, especially since Lakota moved in and they bought a larger bed. She had a sewing machine in there, and though she outsourced labor to a local pack, she still worked for hours at a time, creating new designs. His clothes filled all the empty spaces in their closet, so she used mine for overflow. We could have moved our work into the living room, but we agreed long ago to keep that space separate from our work life. On top of that, our things would just clutter up the apartment and make it feel less like a home.

I closed the closet door, my thoughts drifting back to a question that often kept me awake at night. Lakota would never ask me to leave, but what if he wanted me gone and was too ashamed to say anything?

I folded the jeans and then slipped out of the baggy T-shirt the stranger had given me. Before folding it, I held the garment to my nose and drew in a deep breath. It hadn't been worn recently; I could smell the laundry detergent. But there was another distinct smell clinging to it—a pleasant one. It had a woodsy fragrance with a hint of musk. I folded up the black shirt, wondering what to do with his clothes. When the memory of his laughter as he sped away entered my mind, I considered setting them ablaze. It wasn't my nature to cower before a man the way I had, but I'd never seen anyone quite like Tak.

I placed the garments on the bed and then appraised myself in the full-length mirror. Tak's indifference made me wonder if he found me undesirable. The men in this town knew who I was, so their perception of me was shaped by my father. Having a stranger assess me based on looks alone was humbling. Was my long hair not pleasing? Granted, it was a plain color. Not silken black like my father's or even mahogany brown like my mother's, but closer to the color of potting soil. I'd always been told that I had the dark eyes of an old soul. I frowned, a tiny line appearing between my eyebrows. Since going through the change, I'd put on weight. My breasts had always been full, and though I had a narrow waist, my hips and backside were full of curves—another reason I preferred baggy pants. Shifter men liked curves, so the less attention I drew to myself the better. But what could have made that stranger run away so fast? Were my features displeasing?

And why was I spending so much time thinking about it? I'd never cared before if men found me desirable.

I inched closer to the mirror and touched the left side of my face. My fingers traced across the puncture scars on my lower jaw and temple where a rogue wolf had savagely bitten me. The white marks had grown more noticeable over the years, especially since I didn't cover them with makeup. They could have been a whole lot worse had a Relic not treated me. Shifters considered scars on women a sign of weakness. Scars from bicycles or other mishaps were easily distinguishable from the telltale marks of a wolf's fangs. It was common to see young men instigating fights before their first change, and those scars implied a lot of things. Maybe that person was a troublemaker, maybe they'd displeased their Packmaster, maybe they weren't a good fit for a pack. Men were aggressors, so scars were par for the course. But for someone to attack a woman, it must have been a serious event. It was a double standard, but the truth rarely mattered. If there were two things I'd learned, it was that life isn't fair, and assumptions always prevail.

The fates had marked me for a reason.

* * *

"Areyou sure you don't have any in the back?" the gentleman asked, his gold ring tapping against the glass counter. It was a gaudy ring of a bear's head, which made me curious why he would take an interest in my jewelry.

I pushed a clipboard toward him. "Write down your name and number if you want to go on the waiting list. We sold out this morning."

"I've seen three women wearing them today," he went on. "Everyone's talking about them." He pointed at the feather earrings dangling from my ears. "Are those them?"

"Yes, but these aren't for sale. These were the prototype, and they're sentimental. Is there a special lady you want to buy something for? We have a lovely collection of necklaces that might interest you."

He released a controlled sigh as if calming his growing impatience. I quickly assessed his wealth by his designer watch and the BMW parked out front. My earrings weren't comparable to a diamond necklace, but people were funny about desiring items that were unique.

I glanced up at the wolf clock on the wall that ticked one minute past nine in the evening. "You'll be the first one I call when the next shipment arrives."

He leaned against the counter, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'll pay you five hundred for the ones you're wearing."

Yeesh.What an unforeseen turn of events. I expected curious customers to come in and check the jewelry out, but I would never have imagined that my earrings would sell out by noon. "Tell you what, I'll put a star by your name and make sure you get first choice. I can't guarantee I'll have the design you're looking for, and I don't make custom pieces on request. I use different kinds of feathers, but each set is certified Shifter-authentic."

He licked his lips and looked around. I couldn't help but notice how smooth his shave was, how strong his cologne, how stylish his button-up and slacks. He emulated a male model like those in magazine ads. Every strand of his blond hair was perfectly combed back, and his eyes were a crisp blue. There was nothing boyish about his features; he looked like a sophisticated man who knew how to get what he wanted in every situation.

He scribbled his name on the form. "This is my phone number. If I don't answer, leave a message." He put a giant asterisk next to his name. "I'm Dutch. What's your name?"

"Hope Church."

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You're Lorenzo's little girl, aren't you?"

I lifted my chin. "I'm only little to those who look down on me."

Humor danced in his eyes, and he set down the pen. "I've seen you walking along the streets every so often, but I didn't know you were related to the Church pack."

I smothered a laugh and collected the clipboard before glancing at his name. "You're probably the only one in this city who doesn't know me by sight. Do you live around here?"

He studied the expensive pieces inside the counter. "I own a fine jewelry store two streets over."

"Ah. So you're my competition. Did you come here to spy on my wares?"

He barked out a laugh. "You're not even in the same ballpark."

I folded my arms and shifted my weight to one leg. "I charge what's fair. Maybe it's you who is overpriced."

He leaned on his elbows. "Give me your number."

My cheeks burned hot.

Dutch gave me a playful wink. "A woman who blushes. Be still my heart."

Flustered, I set the clipboard in a drawer, and the pen went rolling beneath the counter. "I need to close up the store now."

He snatched a business card from the holder on the counter and tapped it against his nose. "This'll do. Promise you'll call when you get the next shipment?"

"You have my word. Have a wonderful night, Mr. Day."

Dutch snorted as he pivoted around and headed out. "You do the same."

I removed the drawer from the register and locked it in the safe under the counter. As I reached into a cabinet to retrieve my purse, a peculiar noise made me perk up my ears. It sounded like the squeaking my paper towel made when I washed the front windows.

I stood up and looked across the empty store.

Odd.

Since I'd already locked the display counters a short time ago, I grabbed my keys and flipped off the lights. When I crossed the room and took another look around, my phone rang.

"Are you locking up?" Mel asked.

"I had a last-minute customer, so I'm running a little late. Do you want me to bring you two something to eat for your trip? I can swing by the sandwich shop before they close. You can pack them in a cooler if you're not hungry."

I stepped outside and locked the door, my phone pinned between my shoulder and ear.

"No, you don't have to bother," she said. "I ate that leftover burger in the fridge, and Lakota wants to have a midnight dinner in Dallas at this taco place that's open late. I'll probably nod off by the time we get to Waco, so he'll just have to go inside and eat a chimichanga all by himself. Road trips at night have a narcotic effect on me. I just wish he had a bigger truck so I could stretch out."

"Well, you could always put a mattress in the back," I quipped.

Melody laughed and relayed the joke to Lakota.

Before turning away, I noticed a white letter envelope taped to the window. I peeled it off the glass and turned it over. There wasn't a label, but Breed messengers relayed notices all the time on behalf of others. In a hurry to get home, I tucked it in my purse. "Be sure you take all the water bottles in the fridge. That'll save you from having to make any unnecessary stops. Don't worry about leaving me any; you know I prefer tea."

"Lakota! Can you grab the water out of the fridge?" she yelled in my ear. "Sorry."

"That's okay," I said, getting in the car. Once the door closed, I turned the key and tossed my purse in the passenger seat. "Did you pack your favorite pillow?"

"Lakota!"

I laughed. "I should let you go before you forget something else. I'll be home in just a few minutes."

"Awesome! See you then." Melody hung up, and I slipped my phone in my purse.

A thrill raced through me while I admired our store through the windshield, the headlights spotlighting the mannequins in the window display. Everything was falling into place. We had regular customers, and if I could secure a deal with Asia, we'd have something unique to offer the Breed community.

Some immortals considered Shifters to be at the bottom of the totem pole—hate spawned out of jealousy for our gift of transformation. After slavery was abolished, Shifters no longer hid in the shadows. Even though I was a wolf, the feather earrings instilled a sense of culture and respect for all. My jewelry connected the wearer with Breed life—a visible badge of sorts. Mel called it Shifter pride, but many of the customers asking for them weren't Shifters at all. Maybe they were supporters and wanted a way to show others, or maybe having a small piece of our power felt like magic in their hands. In any case, each pair of earrings came with a certificate of authenticity, which also included a brief history about the type of bird Shifter they were derived from and the meaning behind any stones that might be part of the piece. It was the best way to honor the avian community.

What I'd already accomplished was more than I ever dreamed possible.

And now, after trying something risky and new, I finally believed that my life wasn't about luck or timing. Maybe the fates were watching over me and I'd finally gotten into their good graces again.

One could only hope.

I glanced at the envelope poking out of my purse and wondered, Why wait?