Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Ava
The cursor blinks at me mockingly from my laptop screen, waiting for me to finish the sentence I started ten minutes ago.
I've been working on the EPA report for six hours straight, and my brain feels like it's swimming through molasses.
The evidence is solid. The water samples showing contamination levels that are off the charts, soil analyses proving the pollution is synthetic and recent, and I have the photographs documenting the barrels and the active facility.
Everything points to EnvironTech systematically poisoning the watershed while claiming to be an environmental stewardship company.
But translating all of that into bureaucratic language that will prompt immediate action is harder than I expected.
My phone buzzes with a text from Hunter.
Have you eaten today?
I glance at the clock. Seven p.m. When did that happen?
Define "eaten"
Hunter’s response is almost immediate.
That's what I thought. I'm bringing dinner. Don't argue.
I wasn't going to argue. I'm starving.
Good. Be there in 20.
I save my work and close the laptop with relief. My eyes are burning from staring at the screen, and I've read the same paragraph about EPA reporting protocols so many times the words have lost all meaning.
Twenty minutes gives me just enough time to clean up the disaster that is my kitchen table.
It’s covered in coffee cups, printed articles about environmental law, three different notebooks filled with calculations and observations.
I'm carrying an armload of dishes to the sink when I hear Hunter's truck pull into the driveway.
He’s carrying two large paper bags that smell absolutely incredible.
"Caleb sent some stuff," he announces, setting the bags on the counter. "He decided we needed comfort food. So we have lasagna, garlic bread, salad, and something he's calling 'emergency tiramisu.'"
"Emergency tiramisu?" I can't help but laugh.
"His words, not mine. Apparently it's what he makes when Rachel has a particularly stressful story deadline." Hunter starts unpacking containers. "How's the report coming?"
"Slowly. I keep second-guessing every word, wondering if I'm making the case strong enough, clear enough, urgent enough." I grab plates from the cabinet. "What if the EPA receives it and just files it away? If they don't act fast enough, EnvironTech has time to clean up the evidence."
Hunter stops what he's doing and turns to face me, his hands gentle on my shoulders. "Ava. Breathe. You're spiraling."
"I'm being realistic about the limitations of bureaucratic systems and the power of corporate influence on regulatory agencies."
"That's a very fancy way of saying you're spiraling." He kisses my forehead. "The report will be excellent. And Rachel's already reaching out to her journalism contacts, so even if the EPA is slow to respond, the story will get out. We have a multi-pronged approach, remember?"
I lean into him, letting his warmth and certainty steady me. "When did you get so good at talking me down from research anxiety?"
"I've been practicing. You spiral at least three times a day."
I swat his arm, but I'm smiling. "I do not."
"You absolutely do. Yesterday it was about whether your sampling methodology was rigorous enough. This morning you worried about the chain of custody for the evidence. And now you're spiraling about the EPA's response time." He guides me to sit at the table. "It's actually kind of adorable."
"Adorable. I'm having an existential crisis about environmental law and you think it's adorable."
"Very adorable." He serves us both generous portions of lasagna, and the smell alone makes my stomach growl loudly enough that we both hear it.
"Okay, fine, maybe I was a little too focused on work," I admit, taking a bite. The lasagna is perfect. It’s rich and cheesy and exactly what I needed. "Your brother is a culinary genius."
"Don't tell him that. His ego is already insufferable." Hunter settles into the chair across from me, looking more relaxed than I've seen him since we found the barrels. "So besides the EPA report, how are you doing? Really doing?"
I consider the question while I eat, trying to organize my thoughts.
"Honestly? I'm terrified and exhilarated and completely out of my depth.
Three weeks ago I was a normal environmental researcher studying plant mutations.
Now I'm helping expose corporate fraud, working with werewolves, and apparently dating the Alpha of a supernatural pack. " I meet his eyes. "It's a lot."
"Too much?" The question is careful, like he's bracing for an answer he doesn't want to hear.
"No. Just different from anything I imagined my life would be." I reach across the table to take his hand. "But I don't regret it. Any of it. Even the terrifying parts."
"Good. Because I don't think I could let you walk away now even if you wanted to." He says it lightly, but there's an intensity in his eyes that makes my breath catch.
"I don't want to walk away." I squeeze his hand. "Even though this is probably the craziest thing I've ever done."
"Dating a werewolf or exposing corporate environmental fraud?"
"Both. Definitely both." I take another bite of lasagna. "Tell me something about your life. Something normal. I feel like everything's been so intense since I got here that I don't know the everyday things about you."
Hunter considers this. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything. What do you do when you're not busy being Alpha? What did you do before Curtis chose you to lead? What's your favorite thing about living here?"
"That's three questions."
"Answer them anyway."
He smiles, and I love seeing him like this.
He’s more relaxed, not weighed down by responsibility.
"Okay. When I'm not being Alpha, I like to run.
As a wolf, obviously, but also as a human.
There's something about moving through the forest that clears my head.
" He pauses. "Before Curtis chose me, I worked in construction.
I helped build most of the newer houses in Willow Creek. "
"You built homes?"
"I’ll show you some next time you come to town." Hunter grins. "And my favorite thing about living here is the freedom. Being able to shift whenever I want, run wherever I want, not having to hide what I am from my neighbors."
"I can't imagine what that must be like. Having to hide such a fundamental part of yourself."
"It's exhausting. That's why packs like ours are so important. We create spaces where we can be fully ourselves." He studies me. "What about you? What's something I don't know about Dr. Ava Sinclair?"
"Hmm. I'm actually terrible at cooking, which is why I live on takeout and cereal when I'm doing fieldwork." I laugh at his expression. "I know, I know. It's a problem. My mom worries about me."
"Tell me about your family."
"My parents are both professors. Dad teaches chemistry, Mom teaches biology.
They met in grad school and have been disgustingly in love ever since.
" I smile at the memory. "Growing up, our dinner table conversations were basically peer review sessions.
My sister and I learned to defend our ideas before we learned to tie our shoes. "
"You have a sister?"
"Younger. She's a veterinarian in Charleston. We're close, even though we don't see each other as much as we'd like." I hesitate. "I'm going to have to tell her something eventually. About you, about this. She'll know something's changed."
"What will you tell her?"
"The truth, probably. Just the human-compatible version." I grin. "I met someone, I'm staying longer than planned, I'm getting involved in local environmental advocacy."
"All technically true."
"Exactly." I stand to clear the plates. "Okay, dessert time. You can't drop something called 'emergency tiramisu' on me and expect me to wait."
We eat the treat standing at the counter, passing the container back and forth, and it's ridiculously good. Rich and creamy with just the right amount of coffee flavor.
"I could get used to this," I admit. "Your brother feeding us whenever we're stressed."
"Don't get too comfortable. He'll start expecting payment in the form of babysitting when they have kids."
"They're already planning kids?"
"Not officially. But Rachel wants them, and Caleb wants whatever Rachel wants, so it's only a matter of time." Hunter sets down the tiramisu container. "Fair warning, once you're part of this community, everyone treats everyone's kids like their own. Pack life is very communal that way."
"That actually sounds nice. I grew up in a pretty isolated academic environment. The idea of a whole community helping raise children is kind of beautiful."
"It is. Though it also means you have about thirty people with opinions on how you should be parenting." He laughs. "Curtis used to complain about it constantly when Caleb and I were growing up."
I realize this is the first time he's mentioned his family beyond Caleb. "Tell me about Curtis. What was he like?"
"Demanding. Fair. Fiercely protective of the pack." Hunter's expression softens with memory. "He saw something in me when I was young. Some potential I didn't see in myself. He started training me for leadership when I was barely out of my teens."
"That's a lot of pressure."
"It was. But he never made it feel like an obligation. He made it feel like an honor." Hunter pauses. "My father thought Curtis was crazy, pushing me so hard. But Curtis knew what he was doing."
"Your parents must be proud of you leading the pack."
"They are. They're in Florida right now, visiting friends, but they'll be back soon. You'll meet them eventually." He smiles. "Fair warning, my mother is very excited that I'm finally seeing someone seriously."
"Oh god, parental expectations. That's terrifying."
"She'll love you. Trust me." He pulls me closer. "Though Caleb's probably already told her everything, so she likely knows more about you than you'd prefer."
"Your brother gossips?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. He and Rachel are basically the town's information network." Hunter laughs. "It's one of the downsides of pack life. Privacy is not really a thing."
The weight of that statement settles into me. "That's one of the hardest things about pack bonds, isn't it? Everyone's so interconnected that individual secrets don't really exist."
"Pretty much. Especially when you're related to half the pack like Caleb and I are.
Dozens of cousins, aunts, uncles, and they all have opinions about everything.
" He grins. "But it also means you're never alone.
When something goes wrong, the whole pack rallies.
When something good happens, everyone celebrates. It's worth the trade-off."
"I think I'd like that," I say quietly. "Being part of something bigger than myself."
"You already are. The pack sees you that way, even if it's not official yet." He kisses my forehead. "You're helping us fight EnvironTech. You're working with Ethan despite how weird that situation is. You accepted what I am without running away screaming. That matters to them."
We clean up the tiramisu container and migrate to my couch. Hunter insists on picking the show, and of course he chooses a nature documentary about wolves.
"You're not seriously going to make me watch this," I protest.
"Educational value," he says solemnly.
We start the show and Hunter provides running commentary that's hilarious and educational in equal measure.
"That's not how we hunt," he says, critiquing the footage. "We're much more strategic."
"You're critiquing wild wolves' hunting techniques."
"They're doing it wrong."
I laugh and burrow deeper into his side. His arm is warm around me, and I feel completely safe and content in a way I haven't felt in years.
Somewhere around the third segment about pack dynamics, I drift off.
I wake up to sunlight streaming through my living room window and the unfamiliar but wonderful sensation of being tucked against Hunter's chest on my couch.
We're both still fully dressed, covered by the throw blanket from the back of the couch. Hunter's still asleep, his face peaceful, one arm wrapped protectively around me.
I should probably feel weird about falling asleep on the couch with someone I've only known for a few weeks. But instead, I just feel happy.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I reach for it carefully, trying not to wake Hunter.
It’s a text from Rachel.
Morning! Just checking in. How's the report coming?
Almost done. Should have it ready to submit by tonight.
Excellent. Want to grab lunch later? I have updates from my journalism contacts.
I glance at Hunter. He’s still out cold. I’m typing a response to Rachel’s invitation before I can overthink it.
Sure. Noon work?
Perfect. Meet at the cafe in Parkerville?
See you then.
Hunter stirs, his arm tightening around me. "What time is it?"
"A little after eight. We fell asleep watching your wolf documentary."
"Best date ever," he says, completely serious.
I laugh and twist to face him. "You're ridiculous."
"You like it." He kisses me, and even with morning breath and couch hair, it's perfect.
"I do," I admit. "I really, really do."
We eventually drag ourselves off the couch, and Hunter makes coffee while I shower and change. It's so domestic, so normal, that I keep having to remind myself this is all still new.
"I have to meet with Gregory and the elders this morning," Hunter says when I emerge from my bedroom. "Brief them on what we found, discuss security measures in case EnvironTech realizes someone's investigating them."
"And I have lunch with Rachel to go over the journalism angle." I accept the coffee he hands me. "We're really doing this. Actually taking on a major corporation."
"We are. And Ava, I need you to promise me something."
"What?"
"If anything feels wrong, if you notice anything suspicious, you call me immediately. EnvironTech has a lot to lose if we expose them. They might try to intimidate witnesses or destroy evidence." His expression is serious. "I need to know you're being careful."
"I will be. I promise." I set down my coffee and move into his arms. "You be careful too. Don't let the Alpha instincts make you do anything rash."
"That's rich coming from the woman who wanted to charge into an active industrial facility to collect samples."
"That was different. That was science."
"And this is protecting my territory. My pack. You." He kisses the top of my head. "But I'll be careful. For you."
After he leaves, I settle back at my laptop, but I'm smiling. Last night wasn't dramatic or earth-shattering. We didn't make any grand declarations or life-altering decisions.
We just were. Together. Comfortable.
And somehow, that feels more significant than anything else.