Chapter 2
Dale
All the snow-covered trees and hills looked silvery in the late morning light. The curvy road stretched like a black satin ribbon before me. Leaving the city behind was a weight lifted from my shoulders.
The mountains beckoned. Christmas was coming. And with it a blessed vacation for the next two weeks. I’d looked forward to this moment all year.
I turned up the car heat as the temp plummeted in the higher altitude.
“Winter Wonderland Wilderness Lodge, here I come.”
I was excited. The only disappointing part of it was I had no one to share this wonderful time with.
I had family, but we weren’t close. My parents drank a lot, and my childhood had been missing warmth and attention.
Also, I didn’t have a partner, the friend of the heart I’d always dreamed of spending my life with.
I didn’t trust easily. I’d been unlucky in love with the wrong sorts of guys. It just wasn’t in the stars for me.
Several hours later, after a stop for gas and a burger, I pulled into Winter Wonderland’s parking lot. There were almost no spaces left. I parked toward the back of the lot and walked through some slushy puddles to reach the lodge’s front door.
As soon as I entered the lobby, chaos greeted me. The din of voices and the crowd with suitcases and backpacks piled everywhere was a shock. The door closed behind me. Hot air—overly hot from all the people standing around—felt like an assault.
A stranger turned to me and said, “If you want my advice, leave now.”
“What’s going on?”
“No more rooms. And everyone here has a reservation but it’s no good.”
“I have a reservation.”
“Doesn’t matter. Someone overbooked the place.”
“I need to talk to the clerk.”
He pointed. “Line’s over there.”
I hurried to the end of a long queue, desperately worried now. I remembered that every place I’d passed driving up the mountain had signs out that said “No Vacancy.” Would I have to turn around and go home?
A bad taste filled my mouth. This was wrong. There had to be a solution somewhere, somehow.
People who weren’t in line seemed to be stressed and upset, even arguing. I tried to eavesdrop, though the noise level was high.
“They said there was one cancellation.”
“Right. And that maybe one room will open in two days.”
“What do we do until then? Wait and sleep in the lobby hoping to get it?”
“First come, first serve. I was nowhere near the first person in line.”
I glanced past a wide, polished hall toward a lobby great room and saw a fire burning merrily in a huge hearth. A couple of people were sitting on couches in that room, but their heads were down. They didn’t seem any happier than the people out here.
With the heat turned too high for the room occupancy, tempers were flaring.
I couldn’t hear what the clerks were saying, but people were gesticulating and banging on the counter. It looked like some were leaving. The line moved at the speed of death.
When I finally got to the front, I could overhear better. There were certainly no more rooms to be had. But also, no one had checked in yet. That meant no rooms had been filled. Why? That had me intrigued.
The guy in front of me demanded a refund. Okay, I thought. That’s one down. But why was everyone else waiting around? And why had no one checked in?
Finally, it was my turn. I approached the front desk. The little man in glasses who greeted me looked frazzled and overwhelmed.
I set my reservation printout on the countertop. “Frazier, Dale,” I said.
He ran his hand nervously through his hair. “Hello. Sorry for the long wait. The bad news is we have no more rooms even if you have reservations. The good news is there might be a solution.”
It would be no use to argue with him, or blame him, or yell at him. I decided to hear him out. Calmly.
“Tell me the solution.”
“We get people to agree to share rooms. Singles paired up in single rooms and couples paired up in double rooms. It’s the only way to make the numbers work out where everyone has a place to stay.”
“Paired up with a stranger?”
“I’m afraid so.”
That was somewhat risky. Who knew where any of these people came from, let alone their criminal histories?
“Hmm. Sounds dicey.”
“We have no other solution except to close down everything. Our owner doesn’t want that.”
“All right, then. Would it be like a lottery? Is that what all these people are waiting for?” I gestured about the room.
“That, or you can pick someone out right now.” He hit a key on his keyboard and frowned at the screen.
“It says here your designation is human alpha. The shifter half of the resort is down the road. They tend to be a little more peaceful and trusting than regular humans. You might have better luck meeting an appropriate roommate there. I can transfer your reservation.”
“Are they double-booked as well?”
“I’m afraid so. But my friend clerks there and he’s telling me it’s a bit more civilized than here. I’m afraid the crowd is going to rise up and start throwing furniture at us.”
“All right. I’m willing to switch if I don’t lose my reservation. Or my place in line.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” He typed for a few seconds, then looked up at me over his glasses. “Done.”
I grabbed my suitcase on wheels and hurried outside and into the refreshing cold air. I couldn’t get away from the heat and din fast enough.
As I drove further down the lane, I wondered if maybe I should turn around and go home. This was a fiasco. I didn’t care about the money, which I knew could be refunded, but I had nowhere else to go for Christmas.
I decided I’d continue on and check out the shifter lodge to see if things really were any better.
My heart sank when I saw their parking lot was almost as full as the other. I got out and wheeled my suitcase through slushy puddles. Again.
This second front lobby was an exact duplicate of the human lodge. It was also filled with a lot of people, but they were a bit quieter. And the scent here was different. Less sweat, more spice.
I already knew the routine and immediately went to the end of a long line. Though the clerk at the other lodge said I could cut the line, I didn’t feel comfortable doing it with so much tension in the air.
A man turned and said to me, “It’s full.”
“I know. I’m checking in anyway to see what they’ll do.”
He rolled his eyes and turned his back on me. I already knew if I was forced to pick a roommate it wouldn’t be him.
My back began to ache from all the standing.
But I’d come this far. I wasn’t ready yet to leave.
I wanted snow and cozy fires. I wanted it alone, but if I couldn’t get that, maybe I could be persuaded to share a room.
I told myself if it didn’t feel right I could leave at any time as long as the roads stayed clear.
When I got to the front desk, I calmly gave my name and checked in. “I’m willing to share my room,” I said.
The clerk raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, sir. I can get you in right away if there is someone you already have in mind.”
Quickly, I scanned the crowd. I scented lots of alphas. I wouldn’t have minded an alpha for a roommate, but then I spotted a young man sitting on the floor, back against the wood paneled wall. His knees we were bent, his head bowed. He looked completely defeated.
A strange feeling, almost electric, ran through my body. I knew immediately, instinctively, it was the right move.
“Him.” I gestured to the forlorn guy.
The clerk came out from behind his counter and walked up to the man on the floor. “If you go with him, you can get your room now.”
The man looked up as the clerk pointed toward me. “What? Who?”
“Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until we assign you to someone.”
The man turned his head until our eyes met. I nodded once. I knew I’d made the right choice.