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.

have

in

Ava Grey, Pack Defect

you supposed

hurt. Maybe it’ll teach your parents that you’re an adult and they can’t

Hah.

won’t ever

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

I mutter, and she

now.

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

to notice the

Groy. Pack Defect

person to care.

person to say words that I still can’t admit

loud.

is abusive. Who the hell

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

memories. Sweet memories.

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

I cried.

shoulders

of Jessa and Phoenix when they would call me their baby

Good times.

Gone times.

it would hurt a little less if 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 lake in summer to frigid winter skies. If Dad hadn’t thrown

no olathas no food and no

C

Grey, Pack

the hardship would bring me what I wanted most, what I was

My wolf.

He’s

***

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

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

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

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6/11

Ava Grey, Pack Defect

family, and I have to

call the cops at least twice a week. Especially when I

wouldn’t be able to

pack has different 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 fantasy I can’t let go of.

hurts to even

always the chance that I have

in a new pack is just like

scent of rain is carried

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

14:33

7/11

Grey,

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

territory.

road is familiar; I’ve driven it countless times in my life, but tonight,

crescent moon. The trees seem to close in on me, casting long shadows across the road. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I navigate the twists and turns, feeling my anxiety wriggle about

silence in my car is palpable, almost suffocating. My eyes dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds, half

One of the young wolves‘ favorite