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.

eyesight. It’s like a gift

wolves.

have

towel in her

Grey, Pack Defect

you know it. Aren’t you supposed

telling him to fuck off won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll teach

Hah.

ever

I’d still have to do what he says. The only person above him in the pack is our alpha- also not someone

I mutter, and she drops it. For

now.

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

to notice the control my family has over

Groy. Pack Defect

person to

words that I still can’t

loud.

is abusive. Who the

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

have warm memories. Sweet

during my lowest times. Memories of Mom when she used

I cried. Memories of Dad

his shoulders and tell me

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

Good times.

Gone times.

it hadn’t simply… disappeared. If Mom’s blue eyes hadn’t gone from warm like a lake in summer to frigid winter skies. If Dad hadn’t thrown me into

olathas no food and

C

Ava Grey,

survive. That the hardship would bring me what

My wolf.

He’s still mad

***

Lisa never leaves until I’m safely on the road, half in worry that my

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

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

neglected and abused

14:32

6/11

Ava Grey,

family, and I have to

twice a week.

be able to do

laws. No part of the

pack is to find my fated mate in another.

to

always the chance that I have no fated mate.

worse, that my life in a new pack is just like

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

to the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally lit by

14:33

7/11

Grey, Pack Defect

so. Eventually, those buildings give way to an unlit rural road that leads

territory.

times in my life, but

long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I navigate the twists and turns, feeling my anxiety wriggle about in my belly, like a fish dashing about in shark–infested waters.

the rearview mirror every few seconds, half expecting to see glowing eyes or shadows lurking in the darkness behind me.

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