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“Wolf Creek is the only magically sealed shifter pack in the world,” Malcom said. “Y’all are like a cult.”

“Not by choice, I assure you,” I said. “If I could have left, I would have.”

We walked in silence for a bit and I was careful to watch where I stepped. I didn’t need another injury even if I did heal faster now. There was so much to think about. Growing up locked away from the rest of society had left me unaware of far more than I realized.

“What’s your pack like?” I asked.

“We’re more of a group of likeminded individuals than a true pack,” Sheila said.

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

“We’re all feral,” Alec said.

It felt like ice was running through my veins and I stopped walking. “Feral?” I should have been more cautious. How had I not seen that coming.

“I don’t mean any of you any harm. I’ll just be on my way now.” I turned and started walking away from them.

“Where are you going?” Sheila called.

“She’s from Wolf Creek, remember?” Alec said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I slowed my pace but didn’t turn around.

“Ask her for her definition of a feral wolf,” he said.

“Really, please, just leave me alone,” I said. “I won’t tell anyone I ran into you out here.”

“What do you think we’re going to do to you?” Shelia asked.

“Let me guess, you think we’re going to tear off your head and drink from your skull?” Alec mused.

I stopped walking and turned around slowly. When he put it that way, it sounded ridiculous. “What does feral mean to you?”

“We’re rejects or runaways from other packs,” Malcom explained. “What did you think feral meant?”

My face and neck felt hot and I knew my cheeks were likely pink. Either these shifters were lying to me, or my pack had lied to me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what was true.

“She thinks we’re going to kill her and eat her or skin her alive or some bullshit,” Alec said.

“You really think that?” Sheila asked, her tone pained.

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me.” I really didn’t. They could have already if that was their plan. “They taught us a lot of things in Wolf Creek that don’t seem to be true. I thought all shifters needed a pack. That it was harder being on your own.”

Even though that was my plan, I never considered that I counted into that theory since I couldn’t actually shift.

“It is harder on your own,” Malcom agreed. “That’s why we live in a community. We have companionship but we don’t have the burden of a pack.”

“We prefer to be around others like us. It makes things less complicated,” Sheila explained. “But packs have systems, rules, expectations.”

“You don’t have rules?” I was liking the sound of this. Maybe being feral wasn’t so bad.

“We treat each other with respect. If someone crosses the line, they’re out,” Sheila said.

“Permanently,” Alec added. “There are no second chances here.”

Okay, so maybe the lack of rules wasn’t such a good thing. But then again, I’d done what I was supposed to do and I still ended up in the caves. Living my life was enough to nearly get me killed in my pack. How was being around feral shifters any more risky?

Either way, it was taking a chance. On my own, I had nothing to get me started. No map, no shoes, no food. With the feral shifters, there was a chance at some supplies at the very least. Best case, maybe I could figure this whole shifting thing out.

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