Page 31 of Pack Nightmare

In truth, I’m sick to death of everyone telling me what I need to do. They’ve grown up with the long-held beliefs in what keeps them safe and protects them. I’ve come in with none of those biases, and my perspective is vastly different.

Does that mean I’m right? I have no way of knowing. But it certainly feels like every fiber of my being is telling me I have to at least try to change things for the better. Because nothing will change if you continue doing the same thing over and over again. They may have convinced themselves that they’re content with the way things are, but I think about what Derrek said, how people in Pack Montrose come and go, returning occasionally to reconnect with the pack but not forced to be there.

A cold, hard stone of truth settles in my gut.

Someone, somewhere, knows the truth about all of this.

And I intend to find them.

Jared shows up Sunday just after breakfast for our study/hangout date, wearing jeans and a thick hoodie, looking every part the college football hunk complete with flat-brim baseball cap. His rich brown skin contrasts beautifully with the pale color of his SFC shirt and matching cap. I can tell he’s nervous, because he opens with a joke.

“Hey gorgeous, what kind of bow loves water?” He greets me in the foyer with a hug and presses a kiss to my temple, sending electric tingles down my body.

“I dunno, Jared, what kind?”

“A rainbow.” His grin widens when I groan.

“Okay, I think you used up all your best material early on. They’re definitely getting worse,” I tease him as we trudge upstairs to my suite. He drops his backpack on the floor with a heavy thud.

“How much reading do you need to do?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.

“A lot,” he sighs, throwing his head back. “I was gone from eight in the morning until past ten last night. They wanted to do some kind of team-building thing before the game. Don’t get me wrong, paintball is fun, but I would rather have had the sleep.”

“I don’t blame you. The football schedule is pretty intense. But you love playing, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” I prod.

“Well, it’s just kind of pointless, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s fun now, but it’s not like it’s going to lead to a career. I can’t join the NFL or something, you know what I mean?”

My heart lurches for him. “Okay, I get that. But you’ve known that all along, right? And there are other things you can do, I’m sure.”

“Like become a coach?” He snorts. “I suppose. Not my ideal career choice.”

“And it’s not worth playing, just to play?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve known the limitations that come with the pack from day one, and I understand them. We have to be close by. And it’s not like we could take all the blood tests and everything else with our freaky wolf blood. There’s no way we’d pass for human.

“I see guys I’ve played against since we were in junior league posting about scholarships to Notre Dame or Big Ten schools, getting recruited to go play places that lead to careers. And I have better stats. I know I’m a better player, and I have every right to those same opportunities.

“Buuut… I have to stay here. Attend Smoky Falls College, graduate with an associate’s degree—probably in physical education—and if I’m lucky finish out my degree at a school in North Carolina or here in Tennessee, so I’m close enough to drive home every month for the shift. It’s just… sad to think about it sometimes.”

“You realize you’re preaching to the choir, right?” I elbow him in the ribs, trying to show him I relate, but also lighten the mood. “I’m literally stuck here. I can’t even leave for over twenty-four hours or I’ll apparently drop dead and take the whole town with me.”

Jared’s eyes widen with embarrassment. “Gorgeous, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. Here I’m whining about Notre Dame. I’m an idiot. My only defense is that I’m too tired to think straight, clearly.”

“It’s fine, I really get it. I had some pretty big dreams before landing here and finding out I was literally cursed.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Bright light is streaming into my little suite—it’s a beautiful fall day outside. I hesitate to answer him, and I realize it’s because I’m worried about being overheard.

“You know what? Let’s get outside, go for a walk. It’ll be refreshing and hopefully give us some energy before we tackle homework.”

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