Tangled

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]

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

1 Ava Grey, Pack Defect

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

1 Ava Grey, Pack Defect

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.

I shove my glasses up the bridge of my nose, hating how they slide. I probably need a new prescription, but I haven’t had the time–or extra money–to pour into that. I’m still wearing the same glasses Mom got me (much to her disgust) several years ago.

It’s like a neon sign saying she doesn’t belong with us.

It’s

wolves.

I don’t have a

towel in her direction,

Grey, Pack

and you know it. Aren’t you supposed to be restocking

fuck off won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll teach your

Hah.

ever happen.

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

a cultural thing,” I mutter, and

now.

for rent, coming up with mock budgets,

the control my family

Ava Groy. Pack Defect

first person to

to say words that I still

loud.

family is abusive. Who the hell does

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

have warm memories. Sweet memories. Memories

times. Memories of Mom when she

I cried. Memories of Dad when

his shoulders

call me their

Good times.

Gone times.

little less if I hadn’t shared that affection with 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

food and

C

Grey, Pack

survive. That the hardship would bring me what I

My wolf.

work. He’s still mad about

***

lot after closing. Lisa never leaves until I’m safely on the road, half in worry that my car will break down (and honestly, I have the same fears), and the other half because she’s

that she could have the same things happen, she grabbed my hand and said seriously,

I love her.

and only friend, my ride–or–die girl, I have yet to admit that I’m a shifter. I haven’t explained to her that

just thinks I’m neglected and abused from a

14:32

6/11

Ava Grey,

have to convince her

the cops at least twice a week. Especially when I

able to do

No part of the

my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about it–we

hurts to even think about

there’s always the chance that

worse, that my life in a new

spring, but the crisp scent of rain

changes from the bright, artificially lit business strip to the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally lit by a street lamp every block or

14:33

7/11

Ava Grey, Pack

to an unlit rural road that

territory.

I’ve driven it countless times in my life, but

me, casting long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel

every few seconds, half expecting to see glowing eyes or shadows lurking in

defect means you’re also the pack punching bag. One of the