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I took my spot beside Mom, who leaned in close to speak to me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this morning over with.”
“Agreed. Things are about to get very busy around the pack.”
I tried to focus on passing out bowls of oatmeal. I kept my eye on the door, dreading the moment when Troy or one of his friends would walk in, but to my surprise (and relief), he never showed. In fact, as I looked around the dining hall, I noticed that half the normal number of wolves were gathered around the tables. Word of Alpha Gregor’s passing must’ve made the rounds. News like that wouldn’t take long to spread. Many wolves would have rushed home to prepare for the days of mourning.
In addition to the celebrations, the older wolves would share stories of the bravery and valor of the old Alpha. Young male wolves would fight each other to impress Troy in hopes of being promoted to be his beta or at least part of his inner circle. The of-age females, including some older unmated ones, would primp and preen and flaunt their bodies in front of Troy. For these hopefuls, there was much to do around their homes.
Breakfast was over sooner than usual because of Gregor’s sudden passing. After the dishes were clean, Mom and I headed home.
“Mom, what will we do for the days of mourning?” I asked.
“We’ll harvest all the fruits and vegetables we’ll need for the feasts.” She set her gaze on me, a knowing gentleness in her eyes. “You don’t have to worry about Troy. I doubt you’ll come in contact with him at all because of his father’s passing. He’ll be far too busy with preparations.”
I gave her a small smile. It was a relief to hear that I wouldn’t have to worry about Troy. Most of the pack worshipped the ground the Redwolfs walked on, so the thought of having to watch Troy’s already overinflated ego grow even larger left a sour taste in my mouth.
Keeping my focus on the garden would also allow me to think of an action plan for my escape. I had five days, and I needed to use that time wisely.
Mom and I went immediately to the community garden, which was visible from our house. Mom wanted me to look at the peppers and do some prep work for the time of mourning. I walked through the wooden gate that Mom had built before I was even a part of her life, and the welcome smell of fresh vegetables greeted me. Mom’s green thumb was supernatural.
I had heard talk around the pack that Mom had always possessed a spiritual, magical connection that allowed her to know the land like no one else. When I was younger, I had imagined that she was a fairy or a nymph—like the creatures in the fairy tales I loved to read. I believed that Mom’s fey blood allowed her to grow plants even in the winter. As I grew, I understood that whatever connection she had to the earth, it wasn’t fey.
No, Mom was a shifter through and through. Still, the respect and dedication she showed to the land and the care with which she looked after not just the plants in the community garden but also the vegetation and fauna that surrounded the pack grounds—these were the things that allowed Mom to form her bond with the land.
Unfortunately, life had done more than enough to convince me that if magic was real, it didn’t want anything to do with me—and honestly, the possibility of magic was beside the point. The benefits that Mom’s green thumb provided for the Kings’ pack were evident. I liked to think that I had some connection to the land, but it wasn’t as strong as my mom’s. I could only hope that I would one day accumulate a fraction of her knowledge.
As we stepped over the tilled fields, I switched out my winter gloves for the old, worn gardening ones. They were designed for hands larger than mine, but they fastened at the wrists for easy adjustability.
The garden expanded for acres. Corn, squash, and even tomatoes and cucumbers were among the plants that spread across the ground. Though we were well past the last frost of the season, it still got cold at night in the mountains, so the vegetables that required the warmest temperatures grew in a greenhouse of PVC pipes and green-tinted plastic. I had designed and constructed the greenhouse myself; it was one of the few things I was really proud of.
The pack had no clue that the small building had been my idea. I worried that the Terrible T’s or Troy would quickly see to its destruction if they knew, despite how useful it was to the pack. Mom was reluctant to take credit for it, but at my insistence, she did. That was why, as safe as I felt in the garden, it was yet another reminder that I didn’t fit in with the Kings’ pack and needed to escape.
Mom and I entered the greenhouse, which was already warm enough that I didn’t need the jacket while inside. After I took it off, I looked at the tomatoes and touched one of the ripe fruits with my fingertips.
I can’t stay here anymore.
“What was that, love?”
I flinched. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Nothing, Mom.”
I plucked the round, juicy tomato from the vine and took a bite. The savory, sweet taste spread across my tongue. The greenhouse was about twenty feet long and seven feet wide. With the abundance of greenery growing on either side, there was just enough room for Mom and I to stand shoulder to shoulder across the path.
“Look at them.” She pointed to the peppers. There was a variety growing from the vine—shishito, bell, and jalapeno. “You’ve done a great job already. And they’re thriving.”
I finished off the tomato and touched one of the green bell peppers. I gently prodded the skin and found it to be nice and firm. I grinned. Mom had tried for months to convince the pack to purchase a greater variety of seeds when they bought supplies from the humans. When they finally agreed to do so, the peppers were the first plant that Mom let me grow totally on my own. Now that the peppers were here, I had no doubt they’d add a ton of flavor to the meals that we prepared for the pack.
Not that this pack deserves the hard work that we put into this garden. The thought put a cynical frown on my face.
“I’m proud of you, baby,” Mom said, tugging at the corner of my mouth. She smudged a bit of dirt across my cheek. “One day, I’m sure you’ll be even closer to the land than I am.”
“Mom, stop,” I whined, though my mom’s ministrations coaxed the grin back onto my face. I hated the people who bullied me and who wronged me, but I could be proud of what I’d accomplished here. I’d worked hard to grow something new, and things had paid off.
Mom smiled and put her arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get started, shall we? If we have enough peppers, I’ll make some salsa and tortilla chips. Sound good?”
I perked up even further. That was a special treat, a favored snack that I’d enjoyed when I was younger. With the peppers, I could only imagine how delicious it’d be.
I grabbed one of the wicker baskets from the back of the greenhouse and began to harvest the peppers. As I worked, I put aside my excitement about the salsa to think about what I would do if I managed to get clear of the Kings’ territory. Where would I go? I didn’t think another werewolf pack would accept a human, and even if they did, there was no guarantee that another pack would treat me any better than the Kings. Not to mention, I could run across a member of the Wargs pack. The Wargs were an awful, borderline-feral wolf pack that occasionally plagued the Kings while out on patrol.
