Chapter Eight
Four days. Four days, ten hours, and thirty-five minutes, give or take a minute. That was how long it had been since Shane breathed the same air as Kimberly. They texted on and off through that time, and he proposed three different dates.
Each time, she ghosted for a few hours and then replied with the standard, “I’m busy that day.”
Shane couldn’t help but feel she was giving him the brush-off and Friday night was the best he’d get while he was in Tolstone.
It all fizzled out before it could even really catch fire.
His focus nearly tanked. Work was a nightmare as he constantly listened out for any phone notification.
Twice, he had cut himself on the saw because he wasn’t paying attention.
Luckily, his shifter healing abilities allowed him to hide the damage until his skin stitched itself back together.
In the evenings, he managed to occupy himself with finding a new home for his pack.
Regardless of what was going on with Kimberly, he was still an alpha and his pack depended on him to find a home and soon.
He looked up each of Dominic’s suggestions and compiled statistics.
He looked at demographics, school ratings, crime levels, job openings, business accessibility, and most importantly, whether there was a place for his pack to run without risking exposure to the humans.
The last thing they needed was a wolf hunt craze to spark up because someone wasn’t careful.
He called a pack meeting to discuss his findings.
John and Chelsea were kind enough to host on a school night, and Shane hoped the woman’s jalapeno cornbread could work a miracle on his poor, bruised heart.
But there wasn’t enough home cooking in the universe to fill that Kimberly-shaped hole in his soul that he hadn’t realized had festered around the edges for ten years.
The trailer wasn’t quite big enough to hold the whole pack, so John set up a makeshift fire pit in the backyard, and each shifter brought their own chair and beer.
For a minute, it felt like the old gatherings back in Kansas.
Bonfire, beer, the smiles, all of it made Shane miss Kimberly all the more.
He wanted her there, sitting next to him, the night wind playing in her hair and eyes bright with laughter as they shared stories.
He checked his phone for the thousandth time that hour as the sun dipped lower below the tree line. No messages.
After Chelsea came back from checking on the kids one last time and everyone had sufficiently stuffed themselves on the potluck dishes, provided primarily by Chelsea, Thea, and Becca, Shane decided to call the meeting to order.
He looked around the wide circle of faces illuminated by the fire.
These shifters relied upon his leadership abilities to give them a better, happier future.
If leaving Warrington could do anything for them, it would be to get a fresh start somewhere not tainted by memories of Isaac’s dictatorship and Kevin’s betrayal.
Shane had to look on the bright side of this whole thing, or he’d crumble inward on himself from the shame of losing the fight against a beta.
These wolves, however, didn’t seem to see him as less of an alpha.
He couldn’t begin to understand why, but he tried not to question it.
Shane sat up straighter and pulled out his notes from his bag. “Okay, I know we just got here, but I think it’s time to start considering our next home.”
The pack went quiet as he listed off the towns and presented the pros and cons of each.
They listened, but it became clear that Shane should have treated this more formally.
They asked clarifying questions and soon lost track of the options.
He should have made copies of his notes or brought a presentation board or something.
He felt like the kid who came to school to turn in a partially finished project and was destined for failure.
“We need a place with good schools for the kids,” Chelsea said.
“But do any of those colleges have majors in graphic design?” Trent complained.
“Did you look at gyms?” Wanda asked. “I’m missing a twenty-four-hour gym.”
“Can you give me a list of the daycares in those towns?” Thea asked, seated beside her husband, Cody. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but I want to look at their reviews myself.”
“I’ve been wanting to make a career change,” Becca said. “Were there any bookstores hiring in those places?”
“None of those places sound like they’re hiring teachers,” John lamented. “I’d have to start as a substitute until something opened up.”
The only two who didn’t voice their concerns were Andy and Paul, who had told Shane he would think about the offer to become beta, but hadn’t given an answer yet.
Andy’s attention was on his phone. By the way his thumb moved, he was likely scrolling social media and not paying a lick of attention.
Paul seemed to be patiently listening as the conversation devolved into bickering amongst their pack.
Chelsea and Thea, both mothers, ganged up on Wanda and criticized her priorities. The husbands were no help, arguing over whether bars or schools were more important. Becca tried to convince Trent that college was pointless and that he should apprentice in a trade instead.
Shane leaned his elbows on his knees, feeling his control over the situation slip.
He needed a beta right about now to help maintain order, someone to shout them down or pull back the women who were ready to flash out their claws over the availability of nannies versus personal trainers.
Paul seemed to restrain himself from jumping in and Shane wondered if he did so in an attempt not to overstep his place in the ranking.
No point in acting like a beta if he would later decide it wasn’t for him.
In the end, Shane had enough of the jumbled, raised voices, and the slow creeping approach of unbridled chaos.
Take charge. This is your pack. They obey you.
Shane bolted to his feet and blasted the pack with dominance. A dense cloud of crackling energy descended over the circle, sucking the animosity out of the air. Every shifter’s mouth clamped shut and eyes turned to regard their alpha’s golden glare.
He made sure he had everyone’s attention, then tossed his packet of notes into the fire. Sparks and embers flew up around the edges before the flames ate away at the pages, reducing them into curling tufts of ash.
“If none of you can agree on anything, I will pick the town. If you don’t like my decision, you can leave.”
Shock rippled through their expressions. None spoke. None moved. Except Paul. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old shifter open his mouth as if to say something, then closed it.
Good. Stay quiet. My word is law.
Shane realized that the thought was not from his father, but straight from his own mind and wolf.
It took the starch out of him. Either Kimberly’s radio silence had him more strung out than he realized, or something of his dad’s teachings had finally been activated in his brain, like a sleeper cell receiving the catalyst to lock into action.
He retracted his dominance, but not what he said.
He meant it. He wouldn’t ignore what they said tonight.
He would look at daycare reviews. He would find the gym, the catalogs for the colleges, and be more attentive to what job opportunities were available.
But he wouldn’t make this mistake again.
He would pick their new territory without their approval.
If they didn’t like it, they could adjust or leave.
It was their choice, though he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
The last time he had to sever a pack bond after the fight in Warrington, it signaled the end of an era.
It had been painful to lose the people he loved and trusted almost all his life, and he never hoped to feel that pain again.
Still, he couldn’t just let this sort of division shred apart in his pack from the inside.
They had to be of one mind, one accord. If not, it wasn’t worth it to keep a malcontent hanging around and causing trouble for all of them. He wouldn’t let that happen ever again.
*
Sweat beaded across Kimberly’s forehead and rolled down her temples. Her muscles burned, and ribs ached, and she still wasn’t sure if she had learned anything.
During elementary school, when rain drove their class inside, the gym teachers put on Tae Bo tapes from the nineties.
She remembered all the punching, kicking, and basic martial arts, and thought revisiting that creative method of exercise would give her some idea of how to fight.
She spent far too much money buying digital copies of more recent training videos to stream over her television.
That evening after work, she changed into a tank top and shorts, pushed her coffee table into the dining area, and rolled up her rug to make plenty of open space in her living room for boxing invisible jerks.
Making herself less of a target was the first step.
Proving she could hold her own was the next.
She might have had shifter strength, but if she didn’t know how to properly use it, how could she expect to take out a shifter who had more dominance and confidence than her?
After an hour of following the online instructor’s directions, punching and kicking the air, Kimberly didn’t know if she was any closer to her goal. She had burned plenty of calories, but they hardly discussed anything about self-defense or how to beat up an attacker.
Right about then, she wondered if this was the wrong approach.
At the end of the session, she braced her hands on her knees to try to catch her breath.