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  The most important one, though, the one I am truly running from, is Logan, the pack’s alpha. Last weekend, I saw him in his wolf form. It’s not usually a big deal for us werewolves, but it was for me. That’s because when I saw Logan’s wolf, mine recognized him as my true mate. My perfect match, my soul mate, whatever. Whichever way you call it, it still sucks.

  The thing is, I’m not supposed to exist. Females of my specie stopped being born centuries ago. No one can say exactly how it started, but we have a name for it in our history: the pandemic. It’s a phenomenon that’s affected my people on a global scale. We were weakened by it.

  If anyone found out about me, I would be taken. Some of my kind would literally kill to have me. I’m not bragging or anything like that. I mean, it’s the most horrible thing I can imagine. If I have babies with another werewolf, they will be stronger than any known to our world. It’s a big deal to some people, because it means they’ll have more power. None of them would care about asking me first, though, which is why it sucks. It’s why I’ve been pretending to be a boy all my life.

  Right there is the first reason why I don’t want to see Logan anymore. He doesn’t know I’m a girl. Which means he doesn’t know I’m his true mate, either. I’m too terrified of what he’ll say if I tell him the truth. Part of me is convinced he wouldn’t believe me if I tell him. So far, that part is winning.

  There is another reason though. Female werewolves may have existed once, but it was such a long time ago that concepts like true mates became impossible to comprehend. You can imagine my shock when I found mine not long after meeting him. These days, werewolves choose their mate among human girls. Logan already chose one. Her name is Reena, and she’s the most annoying person I know.

  However, for some unfathomable reason, Logan loves her. I want to blame it on the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, but I know Logan, and he’s not like that. Sadly, I also know that he really does love her. He won’t leave her for me, especially since –oh yeah!– he doesn’t know I’m a girl!

  On Sunday, I went to see him in a desperate attempt to tell him the truth. Instead, I saw him and Reena being all loved up on each other. I felt completely and utterly rejected when I realized that I will never have him. That’s why I made the decision to leave. I just can’t stick around while he’s happy with someone else.

  I was totally going to stick to that decision, too. I’ve been emotionally preparing my parents by distancing myself from them, to make it easier when I left. At least, that’s what I told myself to explain the bitterness and resentment I now feel toward them. I also stayed home all week. It was mostly because I was having issues –issues that pertain exclusively to females, if you know what I mean– and being around werewolves at this time would blow my cover. But my resolution definitely played a part in that too.

  You can imagine my horror when Logan called my dad Friday morning, asking to see all of us. He was serious too, otherwise Dad wouldn’t have let me and my twin brother Danny skip school. Not that it would have changed anything for me, anyway; I’ve been skipping since Monday.

  Actually, I was counting on using my feminine problem as a reason for me not to go. But Dad took one look at me, silently studied whether or not I’m good to be around werewolves, and then we were out the door.

  We’re on our way in two cars when my parents make yet another attempt to get me to open up. My brothers all went in Connor’s car while Dad insisted I ride with him and Mom.

  “You can’t act so gloomy around the alpha,” Mom tells me. “He’s going to think something is wrong, and he’ll start asking questions.”

  They must have associated my misery with hormonal imbalance. They always do that, and it irritates me so much. Right now, it’s doubly irritating, because they don’t seem to get the point I’m trying to make.

  “Sure I can,” I retort. “I’m a good actress. I’ve been playing the same part for eighteen years.”

  “Dylan!” Dad snaps. “You can’t say things like that in front of the pack. Sadie and Cade knowing your secret is one thing, but you have to be careful.”

  I roll my eyes and give up. As usual, they fail to see my point or even acknowledge my jabs. I stop answering them after that, and they’re wise enough to stop trying.

  ***

  Everyone is gathered in Logan’s study when we get to the pack house. Sadie, Zoey and Reena are also there, for some reason. Logan isn’t here yet, although Cade is. When she sees me, Sadie tries to get my attention, but I pretend I don’t notice. Seconds later, Logan walks in. He analyzes the room in one quick look, checking that we’re all here.

  “Thank you for coming,” he stiffly says as a way of greeting. “I’m sorry girls, but I only need to talk to the Connollies. You can come back after we’re done.”

  Reena throws him a hurt look and Sadie starts to protest. Only Zoey nods in acceptance. Something in his expression seems to convince them though, because a couple of seconds later, they leave. Sadie glares after him. I’m secretly glad it’s not me on the receiving end of her death stare.

  Once the door is closed, Logan coughs, his eyes searching the room until they land on me. I’m staring at my shoes, but I can feel his gaze as if he’s physically touching me. A lovely side-effect of being mates is feeling a strong pull to be near him, to touch him. I’m struggling very hard not to answer that pull. Simply keeping my eyes averted is hard enough work as it is.

  He must sense there’s something wrong with me, because he takes a moment before he starts speaking. I can imagine him being confused. Maybe even concerned, if I’m lucky enough to earn that much regard from him.

  Either way, he doesn’t linger on it and immediately gets to the point. “Our pack moved back here because of a project that my father was working on before he died. He left behind a list of names with addresses. As far as we can tell, the names are all lone families living no more than four hours away by car.”

  Frowning, I dare to look up to see my family’s reaction. My dad is taking it all in with a neutral mask, but the others show the same signs of confusion that I’m feeling.

  Why is he telling us this?

  “That was all he left,” Logan goes on. “Only Cade and my uncle are aware of what it’s all about, but I think that you need to know, too.”

  Again, why?

  “I don’t understand,” Dad finally says what we’re all thinking. “If we’re not supposed to know, then why are you telling us?”

  I make the mistake of looking at Logan as he walks around his table and leans against its front side. The pull momentarily tugs at my heart when we make eye contact. I quickly avert my gaze.

  “There is something more to it that might mean something to you,” he gravely announces. “Not all the families opened their door to us, but the ones who did were reluctant or scared. They’d all had their youngest child kidnapped at one point, as a threat for them to keep quiet about what they were doing for my dad.”

  It happens too quickly for him to notice. My family and I all tense up as the same thought occurs to us. If someone is kidnapping the youngest child of lone families, what are the odds that they’re not actually looking for me? Cade notices it, but he doesn’t react.

  What Logan says next puts us at ease. “I found out a few hours ago that my father was hiding something with these families. Now, I don’t know how much I believe that. He wasn’t a man that formed materialistic attachments like that. But there’s something else.”

  He pauses and exchanges a somber look with Cade, whom I didn’t notice has been standing quietly at the sideline with his arms crossed and a contemplative look on his face. He twitches when Logan pauses, as if he senses that the conversation is about to take a darker turn.

  Then Logan drops the bomb. “One of the families was just murdered.”

  My mother’s gasp is the only sound I register before I go into shock. I stop listening. My eyes don’t see the room or any of the people in it anymore. I don’t even blink. I go completely
blank for a full minute as I try to process this devastating news.

  Somehow, through the hollow feeling taking over me, I hear them say that the youngest Mariner boy, whose family was just brutally killed, is missing. That’s when I start paying attention again.

  “I don’t know whether this has anything to do with you,” Logan continues, “since your name is not on the list. But for my own peace of mind, I would ask you to stay at the pack house with us for a while. At least until this is sorted out.”

  Something in his tone, the way he hesitated slightly before he made the offer, suggests that he was willing to ask us again to join his pack. It makes sense now, why he was quick to extend us an invitation so shortly after meeting us. Why they were so eager to get to know us, to be friends with us. It was all because Logan wasn’t sure whether or not my family fits the work that his father was doing before he died, and he wanted to find out.

  I want to be angry. I should feel used. But I’m numb to it all. I’m sure it will set in later, when I’m not longer in this trance.

  Seconds later, it happens. My family is staring at me, as if the decision is actually in my hands. I snap out of it long enough for those feelings of betrayal to sink in. The anger gives me enough strength to reply.

  “Sure, let’s temporarily move in,” I finally say, my voice coming out detached. “Might as well go bring our stuff then, right?”

  Logan’s face is etched with concern and confusion. He doesn’t seem to know how to respond. He’s saved the trouble, because that’s when Dad clears his throat. “Actually, if it’s alright with you, Alpha Underwood, I’d prefer we discuss it alone first. We’ll let you know in a few hours what we decide.”

  “Of course, but please just call me Logan from now on,” he politely replies.

  My dad smiles and nods in approval. As one, my family starts shuffling out slowly. When I see Logan frowning at me and take a step toward me, I stand up abruptly and follow them. He grabs my elbow to stop me. A jolt goes through me at the touch, and my immediate reaction is to flinch and wedge myself out of his grasp.

  “Wait just a second, Michael,” he calls me pleadingly. “I need to talk to you.”

  The pull deepens at the sound of his voice. The anxiety is almost enough to make me want to throw my arms around him and sob my eyes out. But I have to remain strong and not succumb to the need. It will only get worse if I do.

  He was never really my friend. He was just using me.

  Actually, I know I don’t believe that. There’s nothing he can do or say that would make me hate him or even think of him differently. Despite everything that’s happened, I know him, and I know he cares about me as a friend. He was never acting or pretending. There’s no way anyone can fake a connection this deep. Maybe he did have some ulterior motive, but it wasn’t driving him to be friends with me, not really.

  And yet, I hold on to the thought that he used me as if it’s the only thing keeping me alive. Because it is, in a way. It’s distracting me enough to ignore the urge to go to him, no matter how weak my defense actually is.

  I glare at him with as much hate as I can muster. Shocked, he freezes and doesn’t try to touch me again.

  “Sorry, Alpha,” I reply sarcastically, latching on to my anger like a lifeline. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  Somehow, I find the strength to walk away.

  CHAPTER 3

  Daniel

  Murdered. A family was murdered.

  I’m not sure which one of us is having the hardest time letting that sink in. Probably Mickey. She hasn’t said a word during the entire drive back. She didn’t even say anything when she climbed into the car with me and my brothers. She simply sat down in the front seat, and no one tried to complain.

  Time feels infinitely slow when you want something to be done with. When all you want is to fast-forward to a happier moment, or rewind to before you received the biggest shock of your life, time just seems to go in slow motion.

  My family and I are in that state for about ten minutes after we get home. My parents are settled into the same armchair, my mom leaning on the armrest and holding Dad’s hand. My brothers and I are spread out on the sofas, while Mickey leans in the doorframe with a vacant look on her face.

  “I know this is a shock to us all,” Dad finally speaks up. “But we need to talk about it.”

  “This isn’t about Dylan,” Mason begins the discussion. “It’s too random.”

  “We don’t know that,” Dad responds.

  “Logan said his dad was hiding something with these families,” I point out. “I don’t see how that could have anything to do with Mickey. He didn’t even know she exists. They left before we moved here.”

  “Logan doesn’t believe his father was a man to form attachments,” he reminds us all. “Until we’re sure, we can’t know for certain that this project Cameron Underwood was hiding from his pack, whatever it is, has nothing to with Dylan.”

  This launches us into the most serious argument our family has ever had. Mason and I are insistent on our point that our sister is not connected. Nathan and Connor are not sure, but they’re just as protective, while Dad plays the devil’s advocate and retaliates at every turn in the way he usually does. The only one who doesn’t say anything or move a single inch is Mickey herself.

  Actually, Mom isn’t doing much either, other than stare at her daughter. The way her face is twisted indicates that she’s torn, but there’s also something I’ve never seen my mother experience: shame and remorse. I have every intention to ask her what’s wrong, but I don’t get the chance. Dad abruptly shifts the focus of the conversation.

  “Okay, let’s forget about that damned project for a moment and consider a temporary move-in with SMP,” he orders sharply. “Dylan, you agreed to it. Why?”

  The sound of her name doesn’t break my sister out of the stupor she’s in. She doesn’t blink, nor twitch. Then after a few seconds, she answers in a dead voice. “I don’t see how my opinion matters.”

  From the corner of my eye, I notice Mom flinching.

  “This is a family discussion,” Dad replies, all formality aside and taking on a softer tone. “You’re the most important person in this particular topic. Ultimately, it’s up to you. If you say you don’t want us to move, we won’t.”

  Mickey shrugs. “I don’t care if we move for good, let alone temporarily. If it will help keep my secret, sure, whatever.”

  My brothers and I can’t think of a reply. I can sense that they all share my urge to comfort her and stand by her, but this is a subject that’s always been black and white with Dad. None of us can really say anything that the big wolf in the house will likely disprove.

  “Okay. Then let’s get packing. I’ll give everyone four hours before I call Alpha Underwood and tell him we’re on our way.”

  We all get the shock of our lives hearing him announce this so casually, even Mom. Only Mickey doesn’t react much and simply shrugs before going up to her room to start packing.

  “Steven,” Mom whispers once we hear the sound of Mickey’s door closing, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Yeah, Dad, this goes against everything you ever taught us,” Mason points out incredulously.

  “How can we keep the secret if we’re living with another pack?” Nathan asks.

  “Look, guys,” Dad silences them, “something is going on with your sister that none of us knows about. It’s been a week and we still haven’t been able to get through to her. Maybe some company will be good for her.”

  “Yeah, but come on, Dad,” Connor interjects. “There’s a big difference between staging an intervention with her friends and putting her in direct line of danger. I mean, sooner or later, somebody is going to stumble on that secret if they all live with her! Or have you forgotten that thing she has once a month which basically just confirms she’s a girl?”

  “We don’t have to stay for more than 3 weeks,” he tells us. “She just finished her period yesterday. We
have a while until it’s that time again. We can keep the secret until then.”

  But after that, if we’re still at the pack house, they will definitely know that Mickey’s a girl.

  Why is he even risking it? I ask myself. What’s his plan? This isn’t like him.

  “I need some air,” I declare as I stand up and walk out the door.

  No one tries to stop me. Dad has already decreed the time limit we have to get our things ready, and we all know he would leave without me if I wasn’t ready. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be allowed to take a walk out for a while.

  The truth is, I need to see Zoey. I need to vent to somebody, and she’s the only one I can open up to at the moment. Plus, I could really use some advice.

  She meets me at the basketball court where we usually meet up, because it’s halfway between her house and mine. For once, I find her there before me. Usually, I text her once I’m there and then ask her to come. This time, she didn’t need me asking.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, concern etched in her every word. “Is Mickey okay? She seemed off earlier.”

  I put my arms around her and she immediately reciprocates.

  “She’s in pretty bad shape, and I don’t know why,” I answer only her second question. Then I pull away and run my hands through my hair out of frustration. “So much is going on. Too much. I don’t understand most of it, and that kills me.”

  “I know, baby.”

  “She’s agreed to move in with the pack,” I reveal.

  Zoey’s eyes widen. “She agreed?” she repeats, surprised. “But your father wouldn’t have it, right?”

  I scoff sarcastically. “Oh, he will have it, alright. He was only too eager to accept.”

  “But… that’s unlike him,” she points out the obvious. “What is he thinking this will accomplish?”