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Chapter One
Lauren
I wake soaked in sweat. One of the many downsides to living in Arizona.
Even now, in mid-September, the daily temperatures are above one hundred degrees. I can’t. Freaking. Sleep.
I attempt to throw the covers off my body, but they tangle around my legs, making me thrash and kick like a mermaid caught in a net. The T-shirt I'm wearing clings to me.
I’m not the only one in this house still awake. In the room next door, my twin, Lincoln plays his electric guitar, sans amplification. I hear him jamming, still trying to master Eric Clapton‘s song, “Layla”.
From the kitchen comes the sound of ice dropping into a glass. Our dad is up, too. We’re a family of insomniacs.
I probably can’t blame the heat. This is a hard week for all of us.
Anniversaries suck.
Still, cooler temperatures supposedly enable better sleep, so I swing my legs over the side of the bed to get up. The thermostat just outside my bedroom door reads seventy-two, which should be plenty cool, but I knock it down a few more degrees.
When I get back to my bedroom, I yank my damp shirt off and toss it on the floor. Maybe sleeping in nothing but my panties will work.
I walk over to the bank of windows that offers a view of the foothills. The full moon backlights the saguaro cacti, which stand like sentinels on the steep hillside.
I reach for the curtains to pull them closed then freeze.
The breath sticks in my throat.
The biggest wolf I've ever seen is outside my window, just twenty feet away.
Silver with white markings, he gleams in the light of the full moon. The beast is so illuminated, I can see the color of its eyes–ice blue.
I force an exhale from my lungs.
Now I know I’m not crazy. For the past several weeks, I’ve caught movement in the brush when I look out my window. Flashes of silver or the flick of a tail.
I guess I should be impressed. Mother Nature led an endangered animal right outside my bedroom window. For some reason, it just pisses me off though. Like the heat and the redneck bullies at my high school, having wild animals peering in my window feels like an intrusion. Another sign we don’t belong here.
We should leave Wolf Ridge and go back to Manhattan.
The wolf stares at me. There’s something challenging in its glare. Like he’s the alpha, and I’m some young upstart he wants to put in her place.
My mom would’ve loved seeing this. She adored Arizona. Loved being surrounded by nature. But she’s not here, which means this wolf sighting is a damn waste.
I unlock the window and shove it open.
“What are you looking at?” I shout at the wolf.
His upper lip curls in a growl.
I should be afraid. I should feel something, anything.
But I don’t.
These days, I never do.
“Shoo.” I flick my hand in a dismissive gesture. “Go on. Get out of here.”
I see a flash of gleaming white teeth.
