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.

bad eyesight. It’s like a

wolves.

I don’t have a wolf.

towel in her direction, watching

Grey, Pack Defect

it. Aren’t you supposed to be restocking our cups? Our dinner rush is going to

off won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll teach your parents that

Hah.

ever happen.

beta. Even if he acknowledged me as an independent adult, I’d still have to do what he says. The only person above him in the pack is our alpha- also not someone I’d like to cross on a daily

mutter, and she drops it. For

now.

always does. She’s been showing me apartments for rent, coming up with mock budgets, even discussing our school schedules. Lisa’s pushy in

the control my

Ava Groy. Pack

first person

that I still

loud.

abusive. Who the

loved me once. Before I came of age and they realized I

have warm memories. Sweet memories. Memories

Memories of

when I cried. Memories of Dad when he

me onto his shoulders and tell

they would call me their baby sister, and show me off proudly to

Good times.

Gone times.

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

no food and no

C

Grey,

survive. That the hardship would bring me

My wolf.

didn’t work. He’s

***

worry that my car will break down (and honestly, I have the same

same things happen, she grabbed my hand and said seriously, “You

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 explained to her

thinks I’m neglected and

14:32

6/11

Grey,

human family, and I have to convince her

at least twice a week. Especially

able to

part of the government would

and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about it–we all do. It’s

hurts to even think about the

because there’s always the chance that I have no

worse, that my life in a new

the beginning of spring, but the crisp scent of rain is carried on the breeze, telling us

quiet neighborhoods

14:33

7/11

Ava Grey, Pack

an unlit rural road that leads into

territory.

times in my

on me, casting long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I navigate the twists

almost suffocating. My eyes dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds, half expecting to see

you’re also the pack punching bag. One of the young