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Chapter One
(Logan)
Tonight’s full moon left Logan regretting his life choices, specifically the one where he’d thought it would be a good idea to have a silver and blue wolf airbrushed on the hood of his 1969 Ford Torino Talladega.
Vanity.
Pride.
He’d finally saved enough to do something special to celebrate the lifestyle changes he had planned for himself and his foundling pup, Wren. No more bouncing between packs, sharing information, and gathering intelligence before moving on to the next one, all in the hopes that they could finally nail down the people and groups responsible for the trade in exotic shifters, since the magnitude of the trafficking ring went beyond jackals, wolves, and the bears they’d enslaved as their enforcers.
Shifters had fallen into the hands of humans who were under the misguided impression that they’d purchased an animal, even if it wasn’t one that was intended to be a pet.
Greed, like with most things, had been the primary motivator, though the jackals had generations of speciesism driving their quest for vengeance, and the wolf packs had played a part in that too. Correcting the mistakes of the past would take time, diplomacy, and shifters willing to work towards a future that put old grudges aside and allowed them to work together. He’d played a big part in aiding those efforts along, ten years of his life dedicated to locating and freeing imprisoned shifters, and later, after he’d found the scrap of fluff on the side of the road that he’d mistaken for a regular puppy, he’d shifted his focus to intelligence gathering. It had its risk, but not near as much as slipping in and out of enemy territories had.
If Brooks, the Comet Lake councilman he’d been dealing with for years, proved to be as honest and honorable as he’d been so far, there would be a home and a stable life waiting for them at the end of this road.
If.
Comet Lake was still 263 miles away, and if the wrong shifters spotted them between here and the border of the Comet Lake pack’s territory, he and his pup were done for. He wasn’t about to have that happen after keeping Wren safe for the past eight years.
“Papa, are there any sandwiches left?”
“I thought you were sleeping?”
“I was, but my tummy was rumbling and woke me up.”
“Check the picnic basket; there should still be a few and some pudding cups.”
“Butterscotch?”
“Sorry, kiddo, I’m afraid you killed all those several miles back, but there are some chocolate-vanilla swirl ones left.”
“Oh-kay,” Wren grumbled, huffing dramatically.
“I’ll get you more butterscotch as soon as we get to Comet Lake.”
“It’s taking forever,” Wren grumbled as they rummaged around in the picnic basket. “Are they all ham?”
“There should be one or two in the bottom with steak, lettuce, and tomatoes on them,” Logan replied.
“Yes! I’m sick of ham.”
“So am I, pup,” Logan said. “I promise you won’t have to eat any more once we get to Comet Lake.”
“I don’t mind it when you rub brown sugar all over the ham and cook it in pineapple and cherry juice,” Wren said. “But this ham is boring.”
“Sorry, kid, I tried to give it some flavor when I seared it, but there wasn’t much hope for it, I’m afraid.”
“Promise this is the last time we have to move across the country?” Wren whined. “It sucks trying to make friends only to have to pack up and move again.”
Logan hated lying to them, but there were way too many miles between where they were and Comet Lake to accidentally trigger one of his pup’s epic meltdowns. The two days they’d already spent on the road had been hell on them both, especially after Wren had to say goodbye to another batch of classmates.
The poor pup was behind most of the pups their age by at least a grade. Constantly changing schools wasn’t helping matters any. Some packs had refused to allow them to be enrolled because they weren’t registered pack members, so he’d done his best to keep up with the lessons at home, but academics had never been his strong suit, and he was sure he’d confused Wren almost as many times as he’d helped them.
“Papa?”
“As long as everything goes the way I hope it will, we won’t have to move again,” he replied. “That’s the best I can tell you.”
