Page 2 of The Wolf's Surrogate

Familiar laughter reached my ears. “How else am I supposed to calm down the daisies?” That sounded like my sister’s teasing jab.

I dragged myself from the ladder without worrying about being quiet this time and turned around to face her. Her autumn-brown tan resembled mine, as did her reddish-auburn hair. My mother’s eyes stared back at me, hazel brown. Her smile too.

Half of me returned the smile—the other half drooped. “I swear to the stars, Kylie, I’ve put them to sleep like seven or eight times now.”

“Did you try a bedtime story?”

“You know they like nursery rhymes more than books.”

Her amused chuckle carried along the air like a song, luring the whispering palms from their resting position. Like lightning striking the air, the branches clamored toward her to get their pats for the day. I swore those things were just like weird, gangly-looking dogs sometimes.

Fred drifted through the open door after Kylie and then shut it calmly behind him. Pale as ever and speckled with orange freckles, with his white hair falling to his chin and his sharp green eyes, he looked more like a ghost than my best friend. Not one ounce of exposure to the sun had brightened his complexion.

Both of them were bundled against the unforgiving wind. When it whipped through the open panel behind me, it reminded me of my job. One of the few jobs that kept me going around here was repairs. It wasn’t like I had much else to do. I’d paid off my home with a singular money transfer to Blake. I didn’t need to work.

But Ididneed to work. What else did I have to do?

“Saw those women out there ogling you,” Kylie teased while she twirled her finger through the daisy petals. She glanced over her left shoulder. “Didn’t you want to talk to one of them?”

I shrugged. “What for?”

She hummed thoughtfully and returned her attention to the daisies. “You’re allowed to have fun every once in a while.”

“I don’t think hooking up with inner pack chicks would be fun. What if they get mated to someone else?”

Fred snorted as he wandered past me, beckoning the whispering palms to return to their pots. “Sounds like jealousy to me.”

“I just don’t want to wake up to a scorned mate holding a shotgun to my face.”

“Why would that happen?” Fred asked while removing his leather gloves. Black roman numerals decorated his knuckles. “It’s not like you’rethatgood.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he squinted at me. Typical Fred—smiling without actually smiling.

I rolled my right shoulder, massaging the muscle with my left hand as I drifted past the repositioned biting bulbs and dead man’s hands. “I better not be subjected to that mating bullshit.”

Fred sighed while unzipping his coat. “It might happen. And hey, it’s not that bad.” He cast a loving glance at Kylie. “I got your sister out of it and she’s great.”

“You better be great right back to her,” I snapped jokingly.

Kylie huffed from the other side of the greenhouse, sparking another lively crackling from the whispering palms. Fred shushed them. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling panels, studying the way the sunlight shone glossy through the cloudy glass. My stomach rumbled.

Humidity crept over my shoulders. Fred was adjusting the thermostat near the door that led into their adjoined cabin. Mist sprayed from the new hose system I had installed over three of the four aisles. Some of the plants sighed. Massive petals and leaves unfurled to the soothing mist while stalks tapered upward.

Plants that didn’t like the sun were planted underneath the aisles where we could curtain them off from the pathway. But today, those darker plants, the slimier seaweed green andglittering blue, were poking the tips of their ivy stalks out to taste some of the misty water.

Cold air snaked past me. I grumbled as I trudged back to the open panel, hoisted the new glass under my arm, and climbed the ladder. A few quick smacks from my palm had the glass solidly positioned within the proper frame. Kylie clapped behind me.

Fred scoffed. “You keep praising him for basic skills then he won’t find a good mate.”

But I ignored that. Because mating wasn’t on my mind. “I’d rather jump right into starting a family.”

Kylie lowered her fingerless-gloved hands with a frown. “What? And skip the whole ritual?”

“I mean, I should just adopt or something.”

“Why would you do that?”

I descended the ladder, folded it up, and scooped it under my arm. “Because getting married or mated or whatever you guys do around here is complicated. Adoption isn’t complicated. I have money to burn.”

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