My wolf was fighting claustrophobia.
I hadn’t been outside in two days. I had no fingernails left to speak of and I could almost literally feel the Vitamin D in my bloodstream slowly leaking away. But after forty-eight hours of stubborn contemplation I still had no idea what to do.
Regan had been right. I wanted this. Or some better version of this. I loved my mom but I wanted family. The big, loud, annoying kind that got under your skin. The kind you always complained about but never really wanted to leave. I wanted a home. Roots. A place I belonged. And no matter how close my mom and I were, Oregon was never going to be that.
I still hadn’t called her. By now, she was probably worried sick, so maybe it was self-preservation that kept me from dialing her. That and I knew she’d ask me what I wanted to do next. I had no clue.
The knock at the door jolted me and I felt myself flush at having jumped, even if no one was around to see it. “What?” I called in a curt voice to hide my embarrassment.
“Lunch,” Brent said. Maybe it should’ve been comforting that he was always there, but Brent wasn’t an endearing sort. In two days, we hadn’t made it past “Lunch, dinner, and thanks.” I wasn’t holding out much hope for our future.
I went to the door and swung it open—and stopped short at the sight of my visitor. “You’re not Brent.”
“You’re quick.” Regan shoved my tray at me and stepped into the room before I could shut the door.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I …” She stopped and when she answered, I knew she’d changed her mind against whatever she’d been about to say. “I want you to stay,” she said finally.
Deep down, I knew those words were complicated truth. But right now, after two days of sitting in my own messy self-doubt and loneliness, I decided to accept them at face value. “I think … that’s what I want too,” I said.
She tried to smile, but it fell short. “I’m not going to pretend this isn’t totally awkward but I do think you owe it to yourself to stick it out. So for what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call.”
The right call. So much love and warm fuzzies with this girl. I sighed. “And that’s what you came up here to tell me?” I asked.
“Dad sent me up,” she admitted. “He wants you to get a tour of the town.”
“If I say no, are you going to hit me over the head and drag me there anyway?” I asked.
Her lips thinned and for a fraction of a second, I could see a real emotion pass over her face. Worry, or maybe concern, and then … nothing. Just as quickly as it had come, it left. In its place was even more control than had been there before. “I understand how hard this must be for you, finding out we all exist like this, but you don’t really have a choice in being here.”
Regan, the leader, the emotionless. I wanted to ask her how she did it, switching on and off like that, but I suspected that might ruin the semblance of civility we’d just established. “You might as well make the best of it,” she added.
She had a point, though I wouldn’t admit that out loud. Not to her. She was too sure of herself already. It made me feel … small, somehow. I waited a beat to prove some point that probably didn’t exist.
“Fine,” I said. “Show me around.”
Instead of turning to leave, she kept her feet planted and continued to stare at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I just … You’re shorter than I expected.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she spun on her heel and exited the room. I hesitated, trying to decide if I’d just been insulted. Finally, still undecided, I followed her out.
I found her waiting in the hall. The same stocky guard from earlier eyed me like he suspected I’d run for it any second.
“That’s enough, Brent. I got this.” Regan gave him a stern nod and led me away. Brent stayed where he was, his eyes boring into my back all the way down the hall.
Regan led me down a flight of stained wood stairs and out the front door.
I tried to remember if I’d seen any of this on the way in, but I’d been so out of it—first from the knock on the head and then from some sort of drink they fed me during the drive—I barely remembered stumbling from the van into the house just before daylight.
But now, with a clear head and plenty of light, I saw how different the terrain looked from the town I’d left behind in Oregon. The front yard was long and narrow and cut off at the base of a steep hill. Farther below, I could see groupings of houses and buildings set in a wide circle. Beyond that, nothing but forest in every direction broken only by softly rolling hills that finally disappeared behind forest.
The air was warm and the sun was high in the sky. I wondered how long I’d been out, or exactly how far away from home I was.
“Pretty view,” I said, leaving my voice flat against the compliment. I wasn’t sure why I was being so difficult. This wasn’t Regan’s fault. But something about her reminded me so much of the man who called himself my father. And everyone else who’d lied. “Where are we?”
“Paradise,” Regan said with a shrug.
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Paradise, California. The town was founded over one hundred years ago by the first wolf pack to travel from northern Canada into America. Current population seven hundred.” She eyed me and hastily amended, “Seven hundred and one.”