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“And that,” Patty said, tapping the wooden spoon against the television screen where the hierarchy diagram was still glowing, “is why you can’t just stand there staring Hilary down when she gives an alpha directive. You don’t have to roll on your back like a golden retriever, but you have to show respect.”

Patty tossed the spoon onto the couch, crossed her arms, and planted her combat boots shoulder-width apart. She squared her jaw and lowered her voice an octave. “All right. We’re doing a drill. Pretend I’m Hilary. I’ve just walked into the hall, looked you dead in the eye, and commanded the pack to clear out the western ridge boundary by sunset. Show me how you’re going to convince me you’re submissive.”

“Right now?”

“Right now, Sloane. Prove to me you won’t accidentally challenge our alpha to a duel for regional dominance.”

Taking a deep breath, I stood and smoothed down my jeans. Relax your shoulders, lower your eyes, don’t look like a threat. Easy enough.

I took a step toward Patty, then snapped my chin down so hard my neck popped. I locked my gaze firmly onto the frayed laces of her left boot.

“Good start on the eye contact,” Patty critiqued. “Now give me the posture.”

I panicked. I’d already lowered my eyes and exposed my throat. What else should I do to show respect? Panicking, I folded in half at the waist, dropping into a bow so deep my nose was roughly four inches from my knees, my arms pinned rigidly to my sides like I was preparing to be launched out of a cannon.

“Sloane—” Patty started.

“Understood, Alpha Hilary!” I squeaked toward the carpet, my voice muffled by my own knees.

Realizing I was standing too close, I began shuffling backward. Because I refused to lift my head and break eye contact with the floor, I took tiny, rapid, bent-over steps, my feet sweeping across the rug like a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner. I hit the edge of the coffee table with the backs of my calves, let out a high-pitched gasp, and immediately dropped into a full, dramatic cower—hunching my shoulders up to my ears, shielding my head with both arms, and trembling for good measure.

Silence fell over the living room.

I stayed frozen on my knees by the coffee table, waiting for the alpha’s judgment.

Patty grabbed me by the back of my sweater collar and hauled me upward.

“Stand up,” she ordered, staring at me in absolute, wide-eyed horror. “What the hell are you doing?! You look like a Victorian servant with a spine injury, not a shifter!”

I straightened, rubbing the back of my neck as heat crept into my cheeks. “I was lowering my center of gravity and avoiding eye contact!”

“You walked backward like a frightened crab, Sloane! If you do that in front of Hilary, she’s not going to think you’re being submissive. She’s going to call an ambulance because she thinks your spine snapped in half!” Patty grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me slightly. “You’re supposed to look like a respectful member of a wolf pack, not a medieval peasant begging the king not to execute her for stealing a loaf of bread!”

“I was trying to be thorough!”

Patty shoved a hand through her dark hair and chuckled. “Okay, new rule. From now on, when Hilary speaks to you, you nod once, say ‘Got it,’ and look at her nose. If you start folding in half again, I’m going to tell everyone you’re doing aggressive yoga.”

I sank back onto the couch, my heart still racing. “Fine. But if she challenges me to a fight, I’m blaming your curriculum.”

“Hilary won’t challenge you to a fight.” Patty returned to the laptop, muttering, “She might challenge me to explain why you’re behaving like a malfunctioning courtier, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

She clicked the remote.

The next slide appeared with the title SCENT: THE REASON THIS SHOULD NOT BE WORKING above a photograph of a bloodhound staring accusingly at the camera.

Patty slowly turned to me.

“What?” I asked.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m the only person who figured out you’re human.”

My stomach dropped.

Patty set the remote on the coffee table. “The others have much stronger senses of smell than I do. Especially Hilary and Hudson. Hilary can tell which one of her children entered a room an hour after they left it. Hudson once found Trevor in the woods because he recognized the scent of the resin Trevor had spilled on his shoe.”

“Trevor spills resin on most of his belongings. That probably widens the search considerably.”

“Sloane, this is serious.” Patty narrowed her eyes at me. “You’ve stood close to both of them. Somehow everyone decided you were simply an aggressively perfumed shifter, which is baffling.”