Page 6 of Outside the Pack

When the basket was full, I wiped away the sweat that had collected under my chin with my forearm. I placed the heavy basket to the side and retrieved an empty one from the back.

If the wolves won’t accept me, maybe I could try living with the humans? It was the first time I’d tried to think about how I would make it among other humans. I remembered the story that Mom had told me about the lone wolf shifter who fell in love with a human man and wondered if something similar could happen to me. Not that I’d fall in love, of course—I didn’t believe there was anyone (outside of my dreams) who could love someone like me. But maybe a nice human would take me under their wing and teach me how to fit in.

The truth was, the pack was all I’d ever known. I had no idea what it would be like to live among humans. The little I’d heard about their ways made me doubtful that human life was for me. Then again, maybe I would only struggle if I were a shifter. Humans might protect their own, just as wolves did. If that were true, I think I could make it work.

I entertained the idea for the duration of the pepper harvesting. As I set the basket to the side, Mom called out to me. I pulled my jacket on again as I went back out into the cold. She had already assembled a large pile of pumpkins, butternut squash, and other gourds.

“What’s up, Mom?” I asked.

“Do you mind checking to make sure that the root cellar is unlocked?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back soon.” I pulled off my gloves and stuffed my hands in my pockets as I walked along the outskirts of the pack. There wasn’t a lot of activity going on. Some who were on cleaning or landscaping duty zipped here and there, but the majority of the pack was holed up in their houses. With so few out and about, the community was uncharacteristically quiet.

If the Terrible T’s or Troy were looking for me, they would find me easily. I felt exposed as I reached the shed that sat on top of the root cellar. Once I was done here, I’d need to hurry back to the safety of the garden. The shed was made of pine, and it held a few landscaping supplies. The trapdoor that led to the root cellar had a heavy-duty brass and iron lock on it, but it was kept unlocked during the day. Today, fortunately, was no exception.

I turned back to the door, but before I stepped through it, I heard voices on the other side. A pair of women, from the sound of it.

“—mate told me that the humans just get worse and worse,” one of them was saying. “Did you hear about them?”

My eyes widened at the word human. I stepped closer to the door and pressed my ear against it.

“No, what happened?”

“Well, apparently, when he went into a nearby city, he learned there was a major sex-trafficking ring busted.”

The other woman gasped. “No!”

“Yes! They’ve been trading young girls and boys of their own kind to the highest bidder, and so many of the poor things are runaways or sold by their families.”

The second woman clicked her tongue. “That just goes to show that humans can’t be trusted. They’re so greedy and wasteful, even their own kind suffers.”

“Makes you wonder if that sort of thing is innate. It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t belong. The human species just isn’t as noble or as prideful as us wolves.”

“What a shame.”

I winced. It was obvious they were talking about me. I waited until the two women walked away before I ventured back out. I fought tears as I jogged back to the garden. If humans treat their own young that badly, maybe there isn’t a place for me among them either, I thought, biting my lip hard. Maybe I’m doomed no matter where I go.

3

NIGHT

I stood in my cabin in front of the fireplace. To my left, a window showed a night sky as dark as my swirling emotions. My home had obviously seen better days—the floors creaked underfoot, the walls were cracked, and the entire place would have thrived with a good waxing. But in the Wargs pack, my pack, there was hardly any time for those luxuries.

We were seventy-five cabins strong, making us the smallest of all the other packs in the area. The largest, of course, was the Kings’ pack, with over seven times our number of homes and the largest amount of resources.

Though there were other small packs in the area, we had to make do with much less than the others. We used candles and lanterns and old, gasoline-powered generators to power the compound. Nestled in northern Montana, our soil was as rich as could be found anywhere, and we had dozens of hot springs hidden in our woods. We had very few luxuries, but before I had taken over, we had even less.

I placed my hand on the mantle and brushed my fingers over the old, rough wood. My hand almost spanned its width. All wolves were strong, but as an Alpha, I could rip the mantle off the wall with the same amount of effort it took to pluck a weed. I’d never trash my own place. But with my mood lately, I half wanted to.

The kindling inside the fireplace was little more than a smoking pile despite the cool Montana winds blowing against the wood. I didn’t care about the cold. I didn’t care that my cabin was little more than a large pile of kindling for a much bigger fire. I liked the old, rustic look of my place—it matched me in almost every way.

I closed my eyes and pulled my shoulders back, feeling my muscles crack and ripple. Inside, my wolf paced back and forth, his hackles raised. I had let him out only a few hours earlier to go on a run, but I might have to do it again. My wolf and I were usually in sync, but lately, we had been at odds.

As Alpha of the Wargs, a position I’d held since I was sixteen years old, I carried enough responsibility on my shoulders to make a lesser wolf crumble. That was why I kept myself and my wolf on such a tight leash. That was why I expected nothing less than perfection from both of us.

So it was always such a pain in the ass when my wolf grew restless. It made me feel on edge—less in control of myself. When I got like this, anything could set me off, and it became difficult for me to keep my goals in focus. A run through the cold night air might just get my wolf to settle the fuck down.

I cracked my knuckles and my neck just to move around. Part of the reason my wolf was so out of sorts was because I’d had the dream again—the dream about her, the girl with those blue-gray eyes. I saw them even now when I closed my own, like a pair of will-o’-the-wisps tempting me to come closer. Whether those wisps lured me toward my doom or my fortune, I had no idea, but it didn’t matter either way.

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