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.

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

wolves.

have a wolf.

the dirty towel in her direction,

Ava Grey,

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

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

Hah.

won’t ever

independent adult, I’d still have to do what he says. The only person above him in the pack is our

mutter, and she drops it.

now.

will 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.

first person to notice the control my

Groy. Pack Defect

first person

words that I still can’t admit

loud.

abusive. Who the hell does

age and they realized I had

have warm memories. Sweet memories. Memories

times. Memories of Mom when she used to smile

when I cried.

his shoulders and tell

Phoenix when they would call me their

Good times.

Gone times.

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

with no olathas no food and no shelter

C

Ava Grey, Pack

would bring me what

My wolf.

alert–it didn’t work. He’s

***

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 concerned

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

I love her.

a little 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

just thinks I’m neglected and abused from

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6/11

Grey, Pack Defect

human family, and I have to

cops at least twice a week. Especially when I show

to

part of the government would interfere in

from my family and pack is to find my fated mate in another. I dream

it hurts to even think about the

chance that I have no

that my life in a new pack is just like my life here.

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

bright, artificially lit business strip to the quiet neighborhoods of White

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7/11

Ava Grey, Pack Defect

unlit rural road that leads

territory.

it countless times

trees seem to close in on me, casting long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel

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

also the pack punching bag. One of