Chapter 1 Ava Grey, Pack Defect

Author Note: The first two chapters have had a complete overhaul, for a better reading experience. Please enjoy. [May 28, 2024]

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What are you supposed to do when your pack—your family—has decided you're worthless?

Get a job.

Save money.

Dream of getting the hell out of there.

It's a futile thing to hope for, but it's the only thing I have that keeps me going.

Until then? I'm just me. Ava Grey. Wolfless. Weak. The shame of the Grey family.

Which is why I'm spending another Friday night working at Beaniverse, a popular coffeeshop in the middle of White Peak, a solid hour's drive away from pack land. No shifters, no drama, no bullying; the only people I run into all day are humans with a caffeine addiction. Or social media addictions. People love to use our lobby as a backdrop for their latest reel.

"Come out with me tonight."

Lisa pops her head into my field of view as I wipe down the espresso machine.

I have no major attachments to my job outside of my pay, but it is my favorite place to be because of her. Lisa is my best friend—okay, my only friend—and she makes me dream of something more than the Blackwood Pack and my uncertain future in it.

"Can't. Dad wants me home as soon as I can."

The grimace that twists her face gives me a warm little tingle in my chest. At least someone gets me.

Even if she's a human and has no idea that I come from a family of wolves.

Dad—our pack beta and an expert at curt text messages demanding my presence home—only allowed me to get a job because he was tired of seeing me at home, I'm pretty sure.

And because every single cent of my paychecks that didn't go to gas went to the thousand dollars I'd borrowed for my beat-up old clunker Taurus in the parking lot. It's my baby, and I love it, but I'm one weird splutter away from wrecking on the highway.

Still—the little freedom it allows me is worth it.

Anything is better than being home.

"You should just move out. We can get an apartment together and party all night." Lisa says this just about every day we work together, and it never grows old. I want that life, too. I don't even need the partying. I just want to get away from my pack.

But wolf shifters don't just let go of their own. Even wolfless defects like me.

prescription, but I haven't had the time—or extra money—to pour into that. I'm still wearing the same glasses Mom got

neon sign saying she doesn't belong with

has bad eyesight. It's like a gift

don't

dirty towel in her direction, watching her squeal and jump back. "I would if I could, and you know it. Aren't you supposed to be restocking

fuck off won't hurt.

Hah.

That won't ever happen.

acknowledged me as an independent adult, I'd still have to do what he says. The only person above him in

I mutter, and she drops it. For

showing me apartments for rent, coming up with mock budgets, even discussing our school schedules. Lisa's pushy in the sweetest way, where she's just

notice the control my family has

person

words that I still

family is abusive. Who the hell does

me once. Before I came of age and they realized I had no

memories. Memories that I bring out at night during my lowest times. Memories of Mom when she used to smile and laugh and rock me when I cried. Memories of Dad when he would throw me

Good times.

Gone times.

them once. Maybe it would hurt a little less if it hadn't simply… disappeared. If Mom's blue eyes hadn't gone from warm like a lake in summer

the hardship would bring me what I wanted most, what I

My wolf.

didn't work. He's still mad about

* * *

never leaves until I'm safely on the road, half in worry that my car will break

to her months ago that she could have the same things happen, she grabbed my hand and said seriously, "You would help me.

I love her.

guilt that even with my one and only friend, my ride-or-die girl, I have yet to admit that I'm a shifter. I haven't

human family, and I have to convince her not to call the cops at least twice a week. Especially

able to

has different laws. No part of the

escape from my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about it—we all do.

hurts to even think about the possibility, because there's always the chance that I have

a new pack is just like

beginning of spring, but the crisp scent of rain is carried on the breeze, telling us all that a temperature drop is

scenery changes from the bright, artificially lit business strip to the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally lit by a street lamp every block or so. Eventually, those buildings give way to an unlit rural road

is familiar; I've driven it countless times in my life,

on the steering wheel

dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds, half expecting to see glowing eyes or shadows lurking in

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