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.

has bad eyesight. It’s like a gift from our

wolves.

don’t have a

in her

Grey, Pack Defect

back. “I would if I could, and you know it. Aren’t you supposed

of telling him to fuck off won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll teach your parents that you’re an adult and they

Hah.

ever happen.

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

mutter, and she drops it. For

now.

come back to it. She 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 sweetest way, where she’s just

first person to notice the control

Ava Groy.

first person to care.

person to say words that I still can’t admit

loud.

family is abusive. Who

came of age and they realized I had no

warm memories. Sweet memories. Memories

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

rock me when I cried. Memories of Dad when he

throw me onto his shoulders

me their baby sister,

Good times.

Gone times.

would hurt a little less if it hadn’t simply… disappeared. If Mom’s blue

no food and no shelter talling

C

Ava Grey, Pack Defect

to survive. That the hardship would bring me what I wanted

My wolf.

He’s still mad

***

safely on the road, half in worry that my car will

out to her months ago that she could have the same things happen, she grabbed my hand

I love her.

only friend, my ride–or–die girl, I have yet

thinks I’m neglected and

14:32

6/11

Grey,

have

cops at least twice a week. Especially when I

able to do anything, anyway.

laws. No part of

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

hurts to

that I have no fated

in a new pack is just like my life here.

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

strip to the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally lit by a street lamp every

14:33

7/11

Grey, Pack

unlit rural

territory.

countless times in my life,

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

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

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