Fan Service

Epilogue

A few months later…

Alex appreciated Devin’s offer to come over and help her unpack in her new apartment, but she also desperately wished she could have figured out a non-suspicious way to decline. She kept putting her body in front of a specific set of boxes tucked into the corner of her new bedroom. Her choreography grew more and more obvious as the amount of cardboard in the room dwindled.

After spending the last month working with a small group of carefully screened, NDA-gagged professionals—a doctor, a therapist, a psychiatrist, and his former physical trainer—Devin’s comfort and aptitude using his enhanced speed and senses made him wildly efficient. Especially when he applied himself.

After much deliberation, they decided revealing his transformation to a select few, with the most expensive legal muzzle money could buy, wasn’t ultimately that risky. If someone wanted to gamble their life savings by going to the press, well, most people wouldn’t believe the truth anyway. The worst they could say was Devin Ashwood was once again pretending to be a werewolf, and at this point that was small potatoes, public humiliation–wise.

“You’re supposed to use the little wrench they include with the packaging,” Alex said when he started putting the screws in her IKEA bed frame by swiveling a single clawed fingertip.

“Oh, is that what that is?” Devin gazed up at her from where he sat on the carpet. “I thought it was just a misplaced piece of someone else’s order.”

Alex shook her head solemnly, turning back to the half-hung curtains before letting herself smile.

This apartment, a fourth-floor corner in a new building within walking distance of the community center, wasn’t forever. But for now it was perfect, as Alex was working as deputy director, helping oversee planning for the TCC’s next act.

She’d even convinced Devin to volunteer with the kids’ summer stage production. All the preteens treated him like a golden god. It was good for him, Alex privately thought, not to have to go totally cold turkey on that kind of attention.

The pay for her new role wasn’t great, but with the money from Devin buoying her bank account, Alex could have quit working at the vet even with her new rent. But when it came time to put in her notice, she swerved at the last second and asked about going part-time instead. She would have missed Dr. Wronski and Seth and the animals. Even Snowball. Plus, she figured having continued access to animal healthcare wasn’t a bad thing, considering her werewolf boyfriend.

Falling in love with Devin Ashwood didn’t magically fix all her problems.

She still worried about her dad being on his own. Though as the result of a conversation she hadn’t been invited to, Devin began shadowing him at work a few days a week, an informal apprenticeship. Apparently they both had things to teach each other about wolves. Her dad also offered to help her turn the now-empty loft into a dedicated art studio, so they’d both still have plenty of excuses to check up on each other.

Unfolding sheets and hanging picture frames in her new home felt like a ritual. Like with each personal touch she laid down an intention to take up space.

Pete Calabasas and the country club contingent reacted as one might expect to Devin Ashwood moving in full-time. He and his friends took to double-parking their massive trucks in front of the community center’s new wheelchair-accessible entrance, a pretty pathetic protest. Alex called the cops a few times, trying to get them towed, but of course they all had friends and family on the force who let them off with smirking warnings.

Had to cancel senior chair yoga , she texted Devin the third time it happened. Half the participants use either walkers or wheelchairs and we couldn’t get them all inside.

He hadn’t seen the text until late, when he and her dad got back from monitoring the red wolves’ new habitat, but the next day Pete Calabasas pushed open both doors of the community center like an old-timey sheriff and slapped a hand down on the reception desk in front of her.

“A fucking wolf scratched up the entire left side of my truck last night.”

Alex turned her laugh into a noise of faux concern at the last minute.

“Sounds like you need a body shop.”

While she didn’t explicitly condone vandalism, in this case, she made an exception.

“It’s not just me.” Pete’s face turned puce. “All my buddies have similar damage on their vehicles, even though we weren’t parked anywhere near each other.”

“Maybe Carla Venetti down on Bleeker will cut you a two-for-one deal?”

Pete loomed over her. “I know you had something to do with it.”

“You think I have the power to control wild animals?” Alex pitched her voice with incredulity.

“Yes,” he said, belligerent and also visibly afraid.

“Don’t be silly.” At her nod, Jameson, the burly security guard Devin had insisted on hiring, escorted him out.

Once the bed was assembled, Alex managed to divert Devin’s attention away from the compromising boxes, distinguished only by the black X she’d drawn in the left corner, by asking him to unpack linens in the guest room.

He narrowed his eyes at her in a way that said he knew she was being fishy.

“I want to make sure I have enough towels for when the group chat comes to visit next week.”

Instead of leaving her bedroom, Devin walked toward her. Toward the boxes.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you.”

“What do you mean?” Alex heated under the force of his gaze.

He just shook his head.

Over the last few weeks she’d collected all kinds of mundane details about him. How he liked his eggs (soft-boiled—gross). If he’d ever had a pet (yes, for a few short days, a goldfish named Gilda that a PA had let him take home after they starred in a cereal commercial together; he’d cried when she died). What he’d been thinking when he got his heinously ugly bicep tattoo. (“That it would look badass. Which it DOES.”)

Still, Alex had a feeling she’d have a crush on him until the day she died.

“The sooner we open them, the sooner you can get over whatever’s making you so embarrassed.”

“Do we have to open them?” she pleaded.

Devin didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Fine.” Alex stepped aside. “But I want you to know not all of it is mine. I’m holding on to some stuff for a friend.”

He had the first box open before she’d finished her sentence.

Because there was no justice in the world, the first thing he picked out was the poster.

“Wait.” She tried to dive for it, but Devin easily caught her with one arm and slashed through the rubber band, keeping the picture rolled with a claw on his left hand.

It felt like slow motion as the paper unfurled upside down to reveal his younger self, wearing a crop top, leaning against a barn with his bare arms crossed and a truly explicit pout on his face.

Devin stared at the image for a tense ten seconds.

“Holy fuck.”

Alex debated going limp, playing dead.

“Were you kissing this thing? I can still smell the remnants of bubblegum lip gloss.”

Apparently, it didn’t matter that she’d drawn devil horns and poked out his eyes with a Sharpie. Devin’s ego was positively vibrating.

“I meant to throw that out.”

“Did you?” He rubbed his thumb across her flaming cheek, looking for all the world like he’d like a poster of her. “Then I’m keeping it. You got any more in there?”

“No,” Alex said, lying.

She nudged the box away with her knee and kissed him.