Reagan considers herself to be a fair and just daughter of Emma Austen, so when she's showed the dirty underside of werewolf communities, it's difficult to wrap her mind around it. Stray alpha wolves start to cause havoc around her father's town in...
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"Your turn."
"Anyway you'll win—I can't move anywhere."
"No, just move here."
"You aren't supposed to be helping me—we aren't on the same team," I complained, but moved my pawn there anyway because he suggested it. I honestly couldn't believe he was teaching me chess anyway, especially since we were just using his massive smartphone to play it on. It also didn't require using data.
We were both huddled underneath the blanket with our backs against the massive trunk of a pine tree. The canopy was high above us, but not even the closest needles were pricked with the blue light of Nichols' phone screen. After two more moves, Nichols had me checked, and all my king on his side.
"You want to play another round?"
"Nah, I'm kinda tired," I confessed with a sigh, turning away from the screen and focusing on stretch of tree trunks ahead instead of the murmur of his thoughts pumping through my veins. Memories, ideas, subconscious thought in pixelated images, foggy, unclear.
Critters echoed between tree branches, the spring peepers crowing in unison. It was far quieter without the presence of the wolves in the forest—I was surprised that there weren't even a few rebellious teenagers out on their runs. I imagined they were loyal to Dad and wouldn't want to upset him by doing that.
I asked Nichols how many teens were shifted. "About eighty-five? I think," he answered, scratching the scuff on his chin. "There were a few younger kids this year. I think the youngest was nine."
"That's cool. We didn't have any young kids this year," I told him, folding my arms over my knees. "Actually, there was a sixteen year old who shifted back in March. We thought something was wrong with him—or maybe my mom was accidentally blocking the shift. We still don't really know how that works, ya know? Rosanna and I have been practicing and all."
"There's always late bloomers. I wouldn't worry about it," he told me, and followed up with, "But sixteen? And he was even at boarding school with the other wolves?"
"Yeah. I felt bad for him," I confessed, staring ahead of me. The sound of the river touched my ears. "It's like how Rosanna and I are the only girls who can shift at our school, but the other way around."
"It must be strange. I can't say I ever had to deal with that as a kid," he commented, and patted me on the shoulder. "You're lucky, though. Alphas like Griffin didn't have people around to tell him what's going on."
I couldn't imagine. I hadn't thought of it. The idea of being on my own and shifting out of the blue—it was overwhelming to begin with, but not knowing? Not knowing what was coming, or why? I made a mental note to ask Griffin about it when I had the chance.
