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 from

wolves.

I don’t have a wolf.

dirty towel in her direction, watching her

Grey, Pack Defect

I could, and you know it. Aren’t you supposed to be

telling him to fuck off won’t hurt.

Hah.

won’t ever happen.

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

cultural thing,” I mutter, and

now.

rent, coming up with mock budgets, even discussing our school schedules. Lisa’s pushy in the

first person to notice the

Groy. Pack Defect

first person to

words that I

loud.

is abusive. Who the hell does this?”

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

memories. Sweet memories.

out at night during my lowest times. Memories of Mom when she used

me when I cried. Memories of

shoulders and tell

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

Good times.

Gone times.

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

no olathas no food

C

Grey,

hardship would bring me what I wanted

My wolf.

alert–it didn’t work. He’s still mad

***

parking 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

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

I love her.

ride–or–die girl, I have yet to admit that I’m a

I’m neglected and

14:32

6/11

Ava Grey,

and I have to convince

twice a week. Especially when I

able to do anything, anyway.

part of the government would interfere in

the only way to guarantee my escape from my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream about it–we all do. It’s a fantasy I can’t let go of.

hurts to even think

the chance that I have

worse, that my life in a new pack is

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

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

14:33

7/11

Ava Grey, Pack

buildings give way to an unlit rural road that leads

territory.

countless times in my life, but tonight, it

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

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

the pack defect means you’re also the pack punching bag. One of the young wolves‘ favorite pastimes is hunting the