Chapter Three

Chapter Two

W ell, that didn't go as planned .

Anders headed to his own cabin. He had downloaded the contract to his laptop, and he needed some backup when he went to talk to Potter.

Augustus Potter, Augie to his wife. Alpha werewolf of the Elwha Pack. As Pack Beta, Anders had made the arrangements for this little getaway, his niece Jasmine's first shift, so it was on him if he'd fucked it up.

He'd paid for all the cabins, and hell if he was going to put up with some rando interrupting them.

His cabin had two rooms: a small bedroom and a slightly larger front room with a tiny kitchen and a dining table with two chairs. The cabins' rough-hewn, vintage vibe probably had more to do with their age than some designer's desire for all things retro. It was clean enough, but the air carried the scent of numerous previous tenants under a layer of fried onions.

He opened the laptop on the table and sat down, making the rickety wooden chair squeak.

Anders scanned the document, the one that said, in plain English:

The Undersigned agrees to an amount of $1400.00 for use of all six cabins at the Hidden Glen Resort …

"Well, shit. Six cabins. All six cabins." He got up and went out onto the front step, counting cabins. There were seven. "So we were both right."

He had rented all the cabins, but apparently the big cabin wasn't included. FFS. He should have paid more attention to what he was signing, but, "How was I supposed to know there were really seven?"

Rather than drag things out, he jogged over to Potter's cabin, passing his sister's on the way.

He rapped his knuckles on Potter's door and waited for the gruff "Come in" before entering.

Potter sat at a table no larger than the one in Anders' cabin, though the breadth of the older wolf's shoulders made everything around him look small. He set his iPad aside, giving Anders a glimpse of really dense text. The Alpha was a physician, so likely he'd been reading the kind of journal article that made Anders' eyes glaze over.

"I double-checked the contract, sir. It does say we've got all the cabins, but it says there are only six."

Shaking his head, Potter gestured at the other chair. "Sit down, son. We'll figure something out."

Anders took a seat but didn't let himself relax. "For what it's worth, the guy staying in that last cabin doesn't smell quite human." He paused, sifting through his memories. "I can't place his species, but it's possible he won't bother us."

Potter sat with his hands clasped on his iPad in some vague imitation of patience. The Alpha was many things; patient didn't make the list. "You could be right, depending on what he is. Think you can find out?"

The intensity of Potter's stare let Anders know there was only one right answer. "Today's Juneteenth. Full moon is in two days and the others don't arrive until tomorrow."

"Then you've got tonight."

Then I've got tonight.

" Yes, sir . "

"If you can't identify him, we can still make the run. We'll just have to leave someone behind to keep the guy in his place."

Anders was pretty darned sure Potter meant him, that he'd be the one to prevent Micah from interfering with them. He nodded, his expression grim. Running with the pack during a member's first shift was a big deal. He'd hate to miss it.

Though as far as Potter's punishments went, it was fairly benign. "Sure. I'll see what I can find out."

Leaving Potter to his reading, Anders headed for his sister's cabin. Of the five Montgomery kids, he and Delilah were the oldest and the closest in age. They'd been put in charge of the others—Simon, Willy, and Grace—as far back as Anders could remember, which had forged a bond even Delilah's marriage couldn't break.

Though Delilah's marriage had broken all on its own, because Jeremy was both human and a jackass.

Anders burst into her cabin without bothering to knock. She and Jasmine were sitting at the table, a spread of cards in front of them.

"Rummy?" he asked.

Jasmine slapped her hand of cards onto the table. "And she's winning, like always."

Delilah's smile had an edge to it. "Why don't you go for a run, Jasmine. You need to blow off some steam."

Jasmine shoved her chair back and stood up. "Whatever." Without otherwise acknowledging either of the adults, she disappeared into the bedroom. Anders took hold of her chair, wondering if he should sit down or leave and let mother and daughter work things out.

As if reading his mind, Delilah grinned at him. "Sit. She'll pout in there for a while and then, if we're lucky, she'll burn off some of that energy in a more constructive way."

"I'm not pouting," Jasmine shouted from the bedroom. Delilah rolled her eyes, and Anders couldn't help but laugh.

"Probably a good thing I never had kids."

Delilah shook a finger at him. "Never say never, Andy. You're not even forty. Plenty of time to meet Mr. Right."

"Is this where I make a joke about Mr. Right Now?"

Laughing, she made a face. "Let's not go there."

"As you wish."

She stacked the cards, patting them to make the edges even. "So what's up with you?"

His smile faded. She always knew when he had something on his mind. "Apparently, I did rent all of the cabins, but the contract says there are six, while there are actually seven."

"And there's somebody in the seventh." She reached up, pulled her hair out of its usual knot, and combed it with her fingers, her gaze thoughtful. "That's a problem."

"You're not wrong, but, you know, he didn't smell human. Potter wants me to find out what he is. Maybe I can make a deal or something so he won't bother us."

She twisted her hair into a fresh knot. "I thought you heard about this place from Rory Calhoun."

"I did." Anders gave a bitter chuckle. "Should have known better than to trust Rory C."

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda."

Anders leaned forward, propping himself with his elbows on the table. He hadn't started the day tired, but this was wearing him down. "Yeah."

"So what are your next steps?"

An idea popped into his head, so he went with it. "Barbecue."

"You're going to roast him over an open flame?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of feeding him a burger but roasting him would solve our problem."

Delilah grinned at him. "Burger, for sure. Less messy."

Anders let his head drop down so it almost rested on the table. "Potter's going to think I'm completely incompetent."

"Hush up." She tugged on his hair. "He knows you're competent or he wouldn't have made you Beta."

"Yeah." Anders straightened, inhaling deep enough to square his shoulders. He was an alpha by nature, and if things worked out, he'd someday be Alpha of the Elwha Pack. Or that was his hope, anyway. "My rational mind knows that. It's the rest of me…"

"You'll be fine. You'll fix this, and in two nights my baby girl will shift, and we'll all have a blast."

Her smile gave him that little bit of confidence he needed. "Thanks, D."

"You got this." She covered his hand with hers. "Jazzy needs her Uncle Andy this first time, and I know you'll be there for her."

On that note, Anders got up and gave his sister a kiss on the top of her head. "I'll get started on supper." He didn't have the heart to tell her that if he couldn't fix the Cabin Seven situation, he wouldn't be there when Jasmine shifted.

One problem at a time …

Micah swore he wouldn't wake up until he was damned well ready, and though he'd intended that to take days, he found himself cracking an eye open after only a couple of hours.

The smell of grilled meat did it.

He lay in bed, the weight of exhaustion all but bonding him to the sheets. His phone said it was still the nineteenth of June and the dim light through the window curtains said it was close to sunset. Voices carried through the cabin's thin walls, but it was the meat that had called to him.

One of the downsides to sleeping for days at a time meant that he didn't eat, and right now he was hungry .

His empty stomach all but dragged him out of bed. He couldn't remember exactly why there were people barbecuing on his property, but he'd let them stay as long as they'd share. He was halfway to the door when he remembered he'd already shown off his shitty sweats and tee ensemble.

He also smelled pretty rank, and his hair was scrambled.

Shower first, then food.

Okay, shower first, then make nice, then (hopefully) food.

With that agenda in mind, Micah redirected his feet to the bathroom.

His bathroom was big enough for a bathtub. The others didn't even have showers, though there were a couple set up outdoors for when the weather was warm. Micah figured the original owners didn't think hunters would bother with such luxuries. Compared with the condo he'd lived in as Corbin Blande, however, this place was somewhere between rustic and spartan.

The hot water worked its magic, and in a matter of a few minutes, he was clean and substantially more awake.

And even hungrier.

"Should have eaten something the last time I woke up." Why hadn't he? "Oh, because that guy showed up to yell at me."

That guy . Who was he and what was his name again? "Anders or something." Micah squinted at the window, pulling on a pair of clean jeans. "And what was he mad about?"

Oh .

"That I'm here."

Welp, them's the breaks .

Micah peeked through the window curtains. He didn't really want to meet a bunch of strangers, but there was no way they'd connect Micah Jenkins to Corbin or any of his previous personalities, so he should be okay. Besides, he was pretty sure they were all werewolves and would steer clear of authority figures on principle.

The guy, Anders, stood at a drum barbecue that he must have brought with him. Smoke rose, carrying its delicious reek, and between the swirling clouds and the way he wielded a long metal spatula, he looked ridiculously manly.

Micah had a huge confidence kink.

The woman was out there too, her hands shoved deep into her hoodie's pockets. The older man stood next to her. Something about his posture made Micah give him a harder look.

Anders might have made first contact, but that older dude was the one in charge.

Two new cars were parked between Cabins Five and Six. Peachy . More company. Micah had been counting on solitude, but apparently his management company had other ideas. He went back to the bathroom to give himself one last check before braving the other guests. He'd worn this face before more than once, making it familiar and somehow comforting.

It wasn't his true face, however. He hadn't worn that since he learned to shift.

After dabbing more pomade on the swooping curl over his forehead, he headed for the door, promising himself he wouldn't be an asshole this time.

"Because if you're an asshole, they won't offer you a burger. That's logic one-oh-one, dude."

As he descended the front porch steps, two young men came out of Cabin Five. They both side-eyed him, with one jogging over to the older man while the other stopped between him and the barbecue.

Werewolves in action. Awesome.

He willed his body to stay relaxed and even managed a smile. "Hello." He extended his hand. "It's nice to—"

"What are you doing here?" The guy glared at him, his arms crossed and his chin raised like he was ready to take a punch. He was only about five foot eight inches but built like a tank, the sun glowing in his corona of curly ginger hair.

Micah had less success keeping his posture relaxed in the face of the other guy's aggression, though his stomach's badly timed growl helped. At least his voice stayed low and soothing. "I own the place."

"Sure you do, but as of right now, you need to get lost."

"Excuse me?"

Micah made fists so tight his knuckles cracked. Fortunately, Anders stepped between them. "It's okay, Willy. I think he's telling the truth."

"So what?" Anders' comment hadn't changed Willy's stance one iota. "You said you'd paid for the whole place so we'd have privacy."

"Seriously, dude, it's okay."

From across the yard, the older gentleman growled, "Willy, get over here." As if the words jerked him like a chain, the redhead pivoted and headed for the old wolf.

Old Dude is the capital-A Alpha, and if I had to guess, Anders is the Beta . Micah made a habit of learning a little about most ordinary types of supernatural creatures in case he ever had to fake being one.

"Sorry about that," Anders said. "I checked the contract, and we do have all the cabins reserved. It just says there are six, not seven."

Micah shrugged. "I never know when I'm going to be here, so I keep Seven for myself." Taking a deep breath, he shook the tension out of his hands. "And don't worry. I won't interfere with whatever you've got planned."

The younger girl came out of Cabin Two. She was all but buried in an oversized puffer coat, wearing a sneer that could only belong on a teenager. First shift? Micah didn't want to let on that he knew they were werewolves, at least not yet. Still, he was connecting the dots.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Anders said. "And hey, why don't you come over and meet everybody? If you want a burger, we've got plenty of food."

"That'd be great." Micah's mouth had been watering since he woke up.

He followed Anders to the barbecue, arriving just in time to hear Willy, the aggro redhead, stage-whisper, "If Anders fucked up something this simple, can't wait to see what he'll do when it really matters."

Without missing a beat, the old wolf cuffed the redhead hard enough to knock him to the ground. "Are you questioning me?"

From his knees, Willy muttered, "No, sir."

"Good." Turning to Micah, the old wolf extended a hand. "I'm Augustus Potter. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Micah, uh, Jenkins." He almost said it without stumbling over the name. "I'm the owner of the place, and it's always nice to meet my guests."

The man had close-cropped hair and a five-o'clock shadow, all liberally sprinkled with gray, and the kind of square jaw favored by the US Marines. "We weren't expecting anyone else to be here." He spoke mildly, but his words had an edge, as if he meant them as a challenge.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting to be here either, but there you go."

Willy scrambled to his feet, but Anders stepped in front of him, cutting off whatever he was about to say. "It'll be all right, Potter. Micah and I will work something out."

Feeling like a child the adults were talking over, Micah kept his smile in place by willpower alone. "Sure," he said. "Gotta admit I'm hungry."

At Anders' gentle tug on his elbow, Micah nodded at Potter and headed for the food. The woman and young girl were planted at one end of the long picnic table.

"Micah, I want you to meet my sister, Delilah, and her daughter, Jasmine."

Micah and Delilah shook hands and he smiled at the teen, who managed a tortured grimace. Someday Anna would be a teenager, and she'd probably be just as sulky. She'd been a happy baby. Maybe that would carry over.

When he started wondering if he'd still be part of her life by then, he shut that shit down fast.

"This is a nice place," Delilah said. She reminded Micah of his ex: competent, confident, and calm. Her hair was a deeper brown than Anders', but her gaze was just as direct as her brother's.

"Thanks. I hope it meets your needs."

That earned him a shrewd glance from Delilah, but before they could take it further, Anders pointed over at the aggro redhead and his friend, who were still talking with Potter.

"You already met Willy, I guess. He's my younger brother, and so is Simon, the guy in the hoodie."

"I'd offer to shake their hands, but…"

"Yeah, Willy'll cool down in a minute or Simon'll knock some sense into him."

Micah stifled a laugh. There were times he could have used someone around to knock sense into his own thick skull.

"I expect you think we're pretty weird," Anders murmured, passing Micah a paper plate. For a moment, all Micah could do was stare at the food. One big platter held burgers and hotdogs and another held buns and fixings, and it all looked fantastic.

"What? I'm sorry. I was—" Micah gestured at the table.

Anders' smile made something flutter in his belly. Either that or you need to eat something . "I said you must think we're a bunch of weirdos."

Micah weighed his options, landing somewhere between seriously, dude and not at all . "Looks like you're having a family reunion of some kind."

"More or less."

Micah helped himself to a burger, slathering the bun with ketchup and mustard. By the time he'd filled his plate with potato salad, chips, and some chopped watermelon, he needed both hands to keep it from spilling. He was also shivering, because once the sun dropped behind the trees, the air temperature nose-dived.

Anders and the rest of his family didn't seem to feel the cold, but then werewolves didn't, from what Micah knew. Delilah and Jasmine still sat at the end of the picnic table, while Potter, Willy, and Simon were moving toward the food. When Anders headed toward the empty seat beside Delilah, Micah stopped him.

"I don't want to be antisocial, but would you mind if we ate in my cabin? It's pretty chilly out here."

Anders looked around as if he'd just noticed they were outside. "Sure thing. I was going to suggest we eat in mine but didn't want to be too forward."

They shared a glance for a heartbeat too long and Micah nodded toward Cabin Seven. "Mine's bigger." Shit . Poor choice of words . A flush of heat washed over him, making him shiver for an entirely different reason. "And, uh, I should have a bottle of wine we can open."

Anders grinned at the grass, like he'd followed Micah all the way through his tour of embarrassment and had enough class not to laugh out loud. "Cool."

Crossing the lawn to his cabin, Micah fought the prickling sensation brought on by Anders' closeness. The guy was taller, broader, warmer, and hot. Micah was in so much trouble.

Through the process of retrieving the wine, removing the cork, and pouring two glasses, he found himself tongue-tied. Anders asked basic questions like " W here are you from?" and " W hat kind of work do you do?" Micah could barely get the answers out, likely convincing Anders he lacked intelligence or social skills or both.

Once seated at the tiny kitchenette table, though, he had an excuse to keep from talking. He dove into the burger, which was hot and a perfect medium rare.

Yes, the man was objectively handsome and yes, he seemed to have a position of authority within his pack.

And he grilled a mean burger .

But no, Micah would not fall into bed with him. He, Micah, wasn't safe, and he wouldn't bring danger to his partner, no matter how casual. No matter how intriguing.

No matter how long it had been.