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 our

wolves.

don’t have a wolf.

flick the dirty towel in her direction, watching her

Grey, Pack

and you know it. Aren’t you supposed to be restocking

I still think one night of telling him to fuck off won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll teach your

Hah.

ever happen.

I’d still have to do what he says. The only person above him

mutter,

now.

up with mock budgets, even discussing our school schedules. Lisa’s pushy in the sweetest way, where she’s just desperate for me to become

the first person to notice the control my

Ava Groy. Pack

first person to

words that I still can’t

loud.

Who the hell does this?”

of age and they realized

memories. Sweet

lowest times. Memories of Mom when she used to smile

rock me when I cried. Memories of Dad when he

onto his shoulders and

they would call me their baby sister, and show me off proudly

Good times.

Gone times.

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

olathas no food and

C

Ava Grey, Pack

the hardship would bring me what I wanted most,

My wolf.

He’s still mad about it.

***

the 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 have the same fears), and the other half because she’s concerned I’m going to get

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

I love her.

friend, my ride–or–die girl, I have yet to admit that I’m a shifter. I haven’t

I’m neglected

14:32

6/11

Ava Grey,

and I have to convince her not

the cops at least twice a week. Especially when

wouldn’t be able to do

pack has different laws. No part of

my fated mate in another.

to

that

my life in a new pack is just like

the beginning of spring, but the crisp scent of

changes from the bright, artificially lit business strip to the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, occasionally

14:33

7/11

Grey,

buildings give way to an unlit rural road that leads into the

territory.

road is familiar; I’ve driven it countless times in

grip tightens on the steering wheel

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

One of