9. Mai

The table was laden with an array of dishes, colors, and fragrances that danced in the midday sun filtering through the dining room window. Tucker's eyes sparkled with mischief as he reached for a drumstick. Food was important to werewolves. We needed a lot of calories to fuel our Shifts. The Bridgetown Pack was no different, and this lunch would have been a feast on a human's table.

I wanted us to fit in and knew we had to start as soon as possible. I had to get them to engage with us. "I'm curious about the name Bridgetown. Why is your Pack called that?"

"Ah, it's the story behind this place, a history that defines us," Michael said, his voice filled with warmth, cutting through the jovial chatter.

"Don't get him started," said Camille. "Once he gets going on our history, it's hard to shut him up."

"It's okay, I'm interested. Really."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." Camille smiled at her mate.

"It all began with an Alpha pair called Richmond and Isona," Michael continued, winking at Camille. "There was war between two local wolf Packs, not unlike our recent past, but in their time, they emerged as a beacon of unity. Richmond and Isona were from opposing Packs, you see. Their kin were killing each other, yet those two fell in love. They fought their own Packs so they could be together. Eventually, they persuaded their families to stop the war and insisted on building a new town between the two territories," Michael explained, his voice tinged with reverence. "They believed that a place of common ground, that belonged to neither one Pack nor the other, could be a place where werewolves from both sides could come together to heal the wounds of the past, and having this as a meeting place for disputes between the two would stop any future wars."

"What happened to the original Packs?" There were only the Three Rivers and Bridgetown in this area now.

"Oh, they both got subsumed into Bridgetown eventually—though that is another story altogether—then Three Rivers was established sometime after that."

"So, none of the original Packs remain?"

"Well, I suppose we are all descended from them, so in a way, yes, their blood runs through ours."

"I didn't know." I glanced at Ryan. He shook his head. He hadn't known, either. Was it Oliver who had a lot to answer for? When he was the Alpha, a lot of our history had been forgotten. Or had this been buried even before Oliver came along?

"Bridgetown," I murmured, the name now holding a deeper meaning for me.

"Yes," Michael affirmed, his gaze meeting mine. "We were founded on unity and hope for a peaceful future, and it's a legacy we strive to uphold every day. It's more than a name; it's our way of life."

Ryan crossed his arms. "You're talking about the human tourists who come here?"

Camille leaned forward. "Yes. When we took over as Alphas, Bridgetown was dying. Three Rivers was the main town in this area. All roads lead there, all shipping and trade go through your territory. We had to do something, or within a generation, Bridgetown would be lost. So, we took the principles of why we were founded and applied them to the human world. What we offer here is a chance for humans to interact with us. To see that we are not the scary big bad wolves that some parts of the media and government portray us as. The Wolf Council supports our aims here. We draw in tourists, who spend their money here, which supports our community and means our young people don't have to leave to find work. The tourists spend time alongside werewolves; they are served coffee and beer by us, taken on hikes or canoeing trips by us, they party with our kind, and then go home and tell their friends that we're not so scary and the rumors they've heard about us are bullshit."

Michael nodded. "There are hardline factions in the government that want werewolves to be contained in camps. They don't believe we are a ‘safe species,' as they like to call us, and have been calling for laws that will regulate our everyday existence."

"That is why Bridgetown is so important. We're not big enough to be an official conclave city where humans and werewolves live side by side. But we are a vital place in the northeast for humans and werewolves to interact. We'll need human allies if we want to stop these factions in government from wielding power over us. We need to show the world we are united, that there is peace and prosperity when humans and werewolves mix."

I was silent, trying to take it all in. I'd not heard about these different factions in government; I'd been too busy just living day to day. But this affected us all.

Tucker, unable to contain himself for long, broke the silence with a triumphant grin.

"And that's why we have the Bridgetown festival every year, to celebrate unity! You should see the games and races," he exclaimed, eyes gleaming, his excitement spilling over.

Henry cast a knowing glance at Tucker. "You only like it for the food; admit it."

Tucker's cheeks flushed, but he grinned unabashedly. "Well, duh!"

I glanced at Ryan, sensing the connection between these people and what they were trying to achieve for all werewolves.

Danni, her previous stern demeanor now softened by the family gathering, chimed in. "And we mustn't forget the dance. Even Tucker doesn't dare miss the chance to dance with his sister."

Tucker rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"You'll join us, won't you?" Tucker asked, turning to us with an eager grin. "The festival is the highlight of the year, and it's at the end of fall, just a few weeks away."

I glanced at Ryan. There was something more to Tucker's question; it was a chance to fully engage with this community. And yet, I couldn't help but desperately hope we'd be attending as a visiting Alpha pair, not because we were still living here.

"We'd be honored," Ryan said, his voice strong and sincere.

Ivan, who had been quietly watching our conversation until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism. "It's not all games and dances, you know. The festival is a tradition, a symbol of what we stand for. It's important."

"We understand," Ryan replied, his tone matching Ivan's seriousness. "We respect what Bridgetown stands for, and we want to be part of it, even if just for a short while."

Tucker's excitement seemed to dim for a moment, catching the undercurrents at play here. But his optimism was undeterred.

"You'll see," he said, his voice softer now, a warm smile spreading across his face. "The festival will make you feel like part of the family. And who knows, maybe you'll even decide to stay!"

Ryan laughed. "Maybe!" he replied as he squeezed my hand under the table. We both knew we were grateful for the offer of sanctuary here, but we had no intention of making this our permanent home.

"With these human and werewolf events, do you have any issues with the out-of-towners bringing in drugs?" Derek asked.

Michael's face turned serious. "You mean ripple?"

I frowned, remembering Ryan"s conversation with Mason and Sam in the hotel room. "What exactly is ripple?"

"Theriothiamine, or ‘ripple' on the streets, is a new drug that is reported to be highly addictive for Shifters. It's popular in the conclave cities and is now spreading into the Shifter communities."

Derek nodded. "We've been hearing rumors about the drug. It was all down south, but I have reason to believe it's here now. I was wondering if you had drug issues before in your human community and the tourists who visit? If so, the supply lines would already be there, and the dealers could use those to start shipping ripple into the northern Packs."

"There is recreational drug use here, but we keep an eye on it. We know who the dealers are, and if they try to move in the hard stuff, we shut it down. This ripple, though," Michael paused, glancing at Camille, "it's concerning. The side effects are nasty for Shifters, and I have a contact down south who told me they're hearing rumors that the dealers down there are planning to flood the north with this stuff."

Derek and Ryan exchanged a look, and I remembered what Sam had said about it.

"You think ripple is already in Three Rivers?"

"You remember the two Bridgetown humans killed?" Ryan replied. "The ones Carson was framed for?"

"They were low-level drug dealers, no?"

Ryan nodded. "When Derek and I went to see Eddie Keller—the witness who was forced to say he saw Carson at the scene—he said the humans had been dealing in ripple."

"Why wasn't I told about this?" Michael did not sound happy.

Ryan shrugged. "We weren't exactly sharing information at that point. And since then, we've all been somewhat distracted."

Michael glared down the table at his Beta.

"I'll look into it," Danni said, keeping her gaze on the table.

As the conversation drifted to other topics, my attention began to slide toward Shya. She was seated across from me, a smile occasionally playing on her lips. With Tucker, her warmth was unmistakable. Their interactions were full of playful glances and teasing remarks. Tucker's youthful energy found a kindred spirit in Shya, and their connection was the spark that often ignited the room's laughter. But it was her interactions with her brother Henry that revealed a deeper layer of her character. She listened to him carefully, her eyes softening with genuine affection whenever he spoke. There was a mutual respect between them, a shared understanding.

But I noticed the tension in Shya's posture when her parents spoke. Her mother's gentle reminders and her father's proud glances seemed to chafe at her, an invisible tether that pulled her back to a role she seemed desperate to outgrow.

"I hope you'll join us for the traditional Baka dance, Shya," her mother said, a note of expectation in her voice. "It's always been a favorite part of the festival for you."

Shya's eyes flickered, a momentary shadow crossing her face. "I'll think about it, Mother," she replied, her voice holding a hint of defiance. "I might have other plans."

Her mother's eyes widened, and her father's fork paused in mid-air. Around the table, conversations stilled, and I could feel the unspoken tension rising.

"You know how much it means to your father and me," her mother began, but Shya cut her off.

"I know, Mother, but I'm not a little girl anymore. The Baka dance is for the Pack's children. I know we stretched the rule these last few years as I wanted to do it with Tucker and Henry, but I'm getting too old for it now."

I caught the disappointed look on Camille's face before she turned away. "Of course. Perhaps you're right."

Mason wasn't taking his eyes off of Shya. He was going to have to be more subtle. It wouldn't be long before Michael and Camille noticed, and I didn't know how they would feel about Mason and Shya getting together—that is, if Shya even accepted him. If they objected, would they ask Mason to leave? I couldn't let us be split up. If Mason left, we would all need to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan kick his brother under the table. Mason grunted, quickly turning it into a cough when everyone at the table looked at him. I guess I wasn't the only one who saw him brooding over Shya.

The differences between the two Packs became more noticeable as the meal wore on. The Bridgetown wolves seemed to have specific rituals about the passing of dishes and the order in which food was served. Each action was measured and deliberate, contrasting with our more casual dig-in-and-eat-what-you-can ways.

Ryan caught me watching and whispered, "They follow the Alpha's lead in everything, even in eating. Did you notice how no one started until Michael and Camille took their first bite?"

I nodded, feeling the distinction. I'd not been in a Pack that followed this custom before.

"Before the festival, there is a Pack hunt. We take most of the Pack up to our western hunting ground for a week. Tell me, Ryan, I've always been curious: how does the Three Rivers organize its hunts?" Ivan asked, a polite smile on his face. I had the feeling he was testing our suitability to fit in with his Pack.

"We generally rely on individual strengths and dynamic planning. Everyone has a say; the Alpha decides on the best course, and then we adapt as the situation demands."

I could see Ivan weighing our words, his brows furrowing slightly. "That's quite different from how we operate," he finally said, choosing his words with care. "Bridgetown believes in a strict hierarchy and detailed planning. Each wolf knows their role and follows the Alpha's directives without question."

Danni chimed in, her tone echoing Ivan's reservation. "It ensures a smooth execution and minimizes risks. We have always done it this way. Sometimes tradition has its value."

Ryan nodded. "Tradition certainly does, but so does innovation."

I smiled, thinking it was funny that Ryan was trying to be diplomatic. It was not usually his forte.

Ivan's eyes turned to his Alpha as he said, "Do you remember that hunt last winter? With the elk stag?"

"Of course! That was quite the day!" replied Michael.

Ivan nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "Indeed, the way you led us, the tactics we employed. It was an extraordinary hunt."

Uh-huh. The message was clear. This was Ivan's not-too-subtle attempt to remind us that Michael was a formidable leader. In case we got any ideas about trying to destabilize, or even take over, the Bridgetown Pack.

Danni's laughter rang around the table, her words directed at the Bridgetown wolves. "And Tucker falling into the river! I don't think I stopped laughing for the rest of that week."

The room erupted in laughter, but it wasn't a memory our renegade Pack was privy to.

I glanced at Ryan, feeling the separation. We were guests and outsiders, our connection to our own Pack pulling us back, and our understanding of Bridgetown limited to the surface. We had a lot of work to do if we wanted this to truly be the safe haven we needed it to be.