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In the short time I’d been here, this group of feral shifters was more like a pack than my own pack growing up. I saw signs of community, support, kindness, and joy. They shared meals and presented a united front when a problem arose. Shit, another family stepped up to help Megan when her dad was injured. Nobody once even checked on me when my mom nearly died of an overdose when I was twelve.
I knew I shouldn’t get too attached and that I should be cautious, but things were looking pretty good from an outsider’s perspective. It was all the things I wished I’d had growing up that I never even knew I wanted. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but even with Alec’s weirdness, this place was better than Wolf Creek.
Surprisingly, I managed to find Sheila’s tent. When I stepped inside, it was empty. Instead of risking getting lost forever trying to find Sheila, I decided I’d wait. I plopped down in one of the folding chairs and closed my eyes for a bit. My mind was too restless to settle so I opened my eyes and looked around the room.
That’s when I noticed the little stash of books under her cot. Thrilled to see them, I walked over and sorted through the pile. I had a feeling she’d be okay with me borrowing one to read. It wasn’t like I’d take it out of her room.
I settled on a glossy paperback with a woman in a huge, old fashioned dress on the cover. It was well loved and the wear on the spine told me it had been read more than the other books in her little stash. I took that as a good sign and got comfortable on one of the folding chairs.
I was a few chapters in when the tent flap opened, but it wasn’t Sheila.
“Doesn’t anyone knock around here?” I asked.
“Where exactly am I supposed to knock on the canvas?” Malcom asked.
“Good point,” I said as I set the book down.
“Hey, good one. I borrowed that when we had a massive rainstorm and couldn’t do anything,” he said.
“I didn’t expect it to be your style,” I admitted.
“There isn’t a lot to do around here,” he said.
“Wait, why aren’t you off doing whatever with Alec?” I hadn’t noticed before, but Malcom was absent from the group.
“That’s kind of why I’m here,” he said.
My brow furrowed. “Oh?”
“You can’t stay,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I bristled, feeling all the hurt and rejection from Wolf Creek flooding into me.
“It’s not safe for you here,” he said.
“According to Alec, it’s not safe for me out there, either,” I said. “Which is it?”
“Alec isn’t who you think he is,” he said.
The tent opened and Shelia walked in. She seemed surprised to see Malcom. “Hey, Malcom. I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Hey, Sheila. I came to check in our foundling,” Malcom said.
“She’s just fine,” Sheila said.
“I see that.” He nodded to me. “See you later, Lola.”
Sheila narrowed her eyes as she watched him leave, then stared at the doorway for a bit before turning back to me. “Careful with that one. Alec seems to trust him, but I’m not so sure.”
“You three seemed so close when I met you.” I was going to get whiplash from them.
“I think Alec keeps him close because it’s better than leaving him on his own. I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt us, but there’s something a little off about him.” She walked over to the empty folding chair and sat down next to me. “He’s never told us his story. Who does that?”
“You won’t tell me Alec’s,” I reminded her.
“That’s different. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. Malcom has never told anyone. Not a single soul.”
“Maybe it’s painful,” I said.
