by Alexis Davie
“I don’t have one,” the woman growled again, quieter and colder than the first time she had spoken.
Eliot, who had been fuming next to him, seemed as taken aback by her answer as Keppler was, because the younger wolf turned to look at him with a confused glance that Keppler couldn’t help reciprocating.
“You… don’t have a pack of your own?” he mumbled, a bit startled.
Was this woman a lone wolf? It wasn’t unheard of for some shifters to be loners, but she looked too young to be one. Lone werewolves tended to be one of two cases: either they were kicked out of their packs, or they decided to abandon their packs for one reason or another. Whatever the case was, it usually happened when the shifter was much older than what the young werewolf in front of Keppler seemed to be. Eliot must have been only a few years older than her.
“No,” the woman answered, her tone growing colder with every sentence she said. She didn’t go into any more details, which was also strange. Lone werewolves who had been kicked out of their packs liked to play the victim, and those who had left of their own volition liked to brag about how much better they were now that they were by themselves.
This shifter wasn’t like any lone werewolf Keppler had ever encountered—not like he had encountered many, and certainly not in the last few years. Damn, the last time a lone wolf had ever come to Evergreen Grove had been long before Keppler had become the alpha.
Where in the world did she come from? he wondered to himself. Why is she here? Who is she?
The young woman started to turn around, presumably to flee, and Keppler barely managed to find his voice before she was gone for good. “Wait! Are you sure you’re okay? We can help you with any wounds you might have!”
“I’m fine,” she snarled, turning her head to continue glaring at him. “I don’t need your help.”
“Listen,” Keppler said, and he was actually surprised when the woman didn’t move from her spot. From her body language earlier, he almost expected her to growl at him some more and then just sprint off into the night. There was still a chance she would, so he had to make his next words count for something.
“Since you don’t have a pack of your own,” he began, not missing the way she winced, “I’m assuming you’re not from around here, and if you were hunting, I’m also assuming it means you haven’t fed in a while, have you?” Eliot seemed to have something to say to that, but Keppler held a hand up to stop him before he did.
The woman shrugged her shoulders and averted her eyes for a second. “I’ve gone longer without it.”
Keppler took a sharp breath and slowly exhaled it. He didn’t know if she meant it as a reassurance or as a way to get him off her back—neither option seemed like the right one to him. The next words he spoke were out of his mouth before he could really think about them.
“What if you stay in Evergreen Grove for a while? Stay with our pack until you can get back on your feet.”
Apparently, those were not the right sentences to say to her either. Her eyes widened in shock, and then she glared at him again, her arms and shoulders tensing into a dangerous stance. She looked like she was about to lunge at him and try to rip his face off.
“I don’t need your goddamn charity,” she hissed, spitting out the word as if it were poison on her tongue.
“Dude!” Eliot cried, grabbing Keppler’s shoulder to get his attention. Keppler turned to him, but he made sure to always keep an eye on the young shifter a few steps away from them. “Are you out of your effing mind?!” Eliot angrily whispered at him. “She attacked me! Who’s to say she won’t do it the second we turn our backs to her?”
“Eliot, don’t be rude,” Keppler mumbled back. “I don’t think she has anywhere else to go. Who knows how long she’s been on her own, can you really blame her for not trusting us?”
“She attacked me!” Eliot repeated, his voice increasing in volume. Keppler wouldn’t be surprised if the young woman was able to hear everything he was saying. “Look, I know you’ve got your alpha complex schtick and whatnot, but I think this is a lost cause! Besides, she clearly wants to remain on her own!”
Keppler held back the urge to roll his eyes. As the alpha of his pack, he had to ensure the wellbeing of the werewolves under his care, but he also had to make sure he kept dangerous rogues away from them. Then again, the young woman didn’t strike Keppler as a dangerous rogue. If anything, she reminded him of a cornered animal, attacking only because she didn’t know what else to do to protect herself. As an alpha, he couldn’t stand there and do nothing. He had to offer a helping hand, at least.
“Keppler—” Eliot began to say.
“Will you please think about it?” Keppler called out to the young woman.
“I don’t think your alpha will like a stranger stepping into your territory just like that,” she replied, her words still punctuated by that cold anger she seemed to wear like the too-big hoodie covering her.
“Luckily for you,” Keppler said, “I’m the alpha, and I have no problem letting you stay for as long as you’d like.”
By the way the young woman glanced down at the ground, her eyes looking side to side, she seemed to be thinking it over, which was already more than Keppler thought he would be able to achieve. Even if she didn’t agree to stay—because really, she had no reason to agree to stay in a foreign town with a pack of shifters she didn’t know—at least he had tried his best. He had done his job as alpha, looking out for any rogue werewolves who might cause trouble for his pack and trying to help them out. It wouldn’t be his fault if this particular werewolf rejected his offer. What mattered was that Keppler had tried.
He certainly hoped she wouldn’t reject the offer though. No matter how much he tried to spin it, he wouldn’t feel like he’d tried if the woman simply shook her head and left. He couldn’t explain why, but… he would feel like he had somehow failed her.
He would feel as though she had landed in Evergreen Grove because Keppler was meant to help her, to take care of her, to protect her, and he had failed.
The young woman turned her gaze back to him, her glare returning full force.
Finally, after Keppler had started to believe she was truly going to growl at him and leave, she sighed in what sounded like exasperation mixed with resignation, her shoulders slumping forward as if she had exhaled the fighting spirit within herself. When she turned her entire body to face Keppler, despite her still-present glare, she looked even younger than she probably was.
“Okay, werewolf stranger,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can your alpha complex schtick get me any place to stay for the night?”
3
When Nina asked the alpha guy if he could get her any place to stay for the night, she hadn’t expected him to take her to an inn she’d walked by before making her way to the woods. (This, of course, was after sending Eliot on his own way, warning him not to get in any more fights.) It was run by an old lady who had some kind of history with the town’s pack, as far as Nina had understood. The alpha hadn’t explained if she was part of the pack or if she was some sort of retired werewolf or if she just happened to know about them and helped take care of them in some way.
The alpha, whose name Nina hadn’t caught while they were in the woods, knocked on the door to the reception of the inn. Nina nervously clutched the straps of the backpack hanging from her shoulders, which she had hidden in the woods before going hunting and had recovered before coming here. The door creaked open, and on the other side had stood an elderly woman with short fluffy white hair, round glasses on her face, and soft brown eyes that seemed to focus instantly on Nina. She wore a pink robe over a light blue nightgown, and Nina felt guilty about having woken her up just to get her a place to sleep for the night. It wasn’t like she hadn’t grown used to sleeping on the ground.
“I’m so sorry to bother you so late, Mrs. Levitt,” Alpha Guy said, “but I was wondering if you had a room for—”
Mrs. Levitt took a closer look at Nina
and gasped, her eyes growing wide at the sight of her. “You poor dear!” she cried, her hands reaching out to cover her mouth before one of them wrapped around Nina’s wrist, her bony fingers surprisingly stronger than they looked. “You’ve seen better days, I’m sure!”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” Nina muttered to herself.
“Keppler!” Mrs. Levitt yelled, turning her eyes to the alpha standing next to Nina, and he seemed to shrink under her intense gaze. “Have I taught you nothing, young man?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Levitt, I—”
“Oh, save your apologies!” the old woman interrupted him. She immediately ushered Nina inside the reception, letting go of her wrist in favor of going to search for only she knew what, mumbling something to herself all the way. “Poor girl has probably been on the streets for weeks now, and this dumb werewolf…”
In said werewolf’s defense—Mrs. Levitt had called him Keppler, hadn’t she?—he had only just met Nina, and he had offered to help her almost as soon as he had seen her. It wasn’t his fault that Nina had always been running away from towns she knew were infested with werewolves, and it wasn’t his fault that she had never stuck around the same place for long.
What, now I’m making excuses for this guy? Nina thought, shaking her head.
“She’s like the pack’s grandmother,” the alpha…Keppler told her, bringing her out of her thoughts. “She’ll probably give you the best room in the entire inn.”
“I’m good with just a mattress if she has one,” Nina said. “Seriously, I’m not a kid; I don’t need to be fussed over like this.”
“Please don’t say that in front of Mrs. Levitt,” said Keppler. Nina, who had been staring out the window at the street, turned to him at his joking tone. He was smiling slightly, and he put a hand to his chest. “You’ll break the old woman’s heart.” Beneath his words though, Nina could hear something that sounded too much like pity for her liking.
She turned back to the window, trying not to tighten her hands into fists, trying not to start a fight with the alpha who had just gotten her a place to spend the night. She didn’t want his pity. She wanted to take his pity and shove it down his throat and tell him to go take a goddamn hike. Pity had done nothing for her in the last ten years; it hadn’t put food on her metaphorical table, nor had it put a roof over her head. All pity had given her were glances from strangers, who didn’t know shit about her. Those same strangers often felt bad at the sight of a thirteen-year-old girl staring straight ahead with a backpack tightly strapped to her shoulders, holding onto it for dear life, but not bad enough to do something about it.
Even if Keppler and Mrs. Levitt felt pity for her, at least they had changed the pattern. Nina supposed she could live with that, if only for the time she spent here.
Mrs. Levitt came back with a stack of folded towels and a bunch of clothes that she deposited upon Keppler’s arms so that he would carry them.
“Make yourself useful, boy,” she told him. Then she turned to Nina with a kind smile on her face and beckoned her with her hand. Mrs. Levitt made her way outside the reception, Nina and Keppler following behind her until they reached a door with the number 618 on it. The elderly woman took out a key from the pocket of her robe and unlocked the door, pushing it open so that Nina could step inside.
The room Nina would be staying in had a queen-sized bed in the middle, a bedside table, a mini-fridge, and a small closet across from the bed, and there was a door that led to what she could only assume was a bathroom. Nina didn’t know if it was the best room in the entire inn, like Keppler had said, but it was the nicest room she could picture. When had been the last time she had even seen such a nice room? It had been years since Nina had dared to peek through the windows of a cheap motel, wondering if she could sneak inside one of its shittiest rooms to sleep for a few hours.
“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Levitt said to her, handing her the key to the room while Keppler dropped the towels and the clothes on the bed. “Those clothes might be a little big on you, but they were the smallest ones I could find. And at least it’ll give me the chance to wash those rags you’re wearing.”
Nina looked down at her clothes: the worn-down hoodie she’d slowly started to grow into, even though it was still too big for her, the pants that had lasted a lot longer than they should’ve, and her sneakers, a few steps from falling apart around her feet.
“No, don’t worry,” she said. “That’s really not necessary—”
“Breakfast is served from six a.m. until noon,” Mrs. Levitt continued, as if Nina hadn’t said a word, “and I usually make lunch when Keppler and some of the others stop by, but the kitchen is open to you, dear! There’s a convenience store across the street, so if you want something we don’t have, just tell them I sent you!”
Nina put her hands inside the pockets of her hoodie, more out of habit than anything else; she knew she had no money with her. She had a few bills in her backpack but not enough to afford even one night in such a nice room, let alone breakfast and an open kitchen for who knew how long.
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am,” she muttered, glancing at Keppler out of the corner of her eye. The alpha had his back to both women, looking around the room as if he were inspecting it. “But I…I can’t pay you for any of this.”
Keppler turned around to face her then, and his expression had grown somber. For a moment, Nina thought he was pitying her again, but the longer she stared at him, the more she realized that wasn’t it. What she was seeing in his expression wasn’t pity. Was it… was it concern? Genuine concern?
Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. No one’s genuinely cared about you in ten years.
“Who said anything about paying?” Keppler asked, and Mrs. Levitt nodded enthusiastically.
“Nonsense, dear!” she cried. “You’re a guest of the pack, and you’ll be treated as such!” She turned her attention to Keppler. “Come on now, Keppler, let’s let this young lady rest.”
Just as Mrs. Levitt started heading towards the door, Nina realized that she hadn’t introduced herself, and she quickly held out her hand. “Nina Novak,” she said. “Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Levitt.”
The old woman grinned at her, the wrinkles on her face more prominent as she shook Nina’s hand with her own. “You have nothing to thank me for, Nina.” Without another word, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Nina stood by the door while Keppler remained on his feet next to the bed. She didn’t know if it would be rude to shoo him out so that she could go to bed… though a shower sounded really nice, especially if she would have clean clothes waiting for her for once.
After a moment of awkward silence, Keppler beat her to the punch.
“I told you she was like our grandma,” he said. His lighthearted demeanor had come back, and Nina almost sighed with relief. She hadn’t felt comfortable with how gloomy his expression had been before. “And seriously, when I offered to let you stay until you could get back on your feet, I meant it. Stay as long as you need to. You’re also welcome to come hunting with us, if you’d like. I promise Eliot is not as much of an asshole as he seems to be.”
Nina snorted despite herself. She couldn’t blame Eliot: a strange werewolf had just shown up on his turf and attacked him over a deer he had been trying to hunt? Sure, Nina had been trying to hunt it first, and the last time he had fed had probably been much earlier than the last time she had, but Eliot hadn’t known any of that.
“Sorry,” Keppler went on, and Nina realized she hadn’t said anything. “I know this must be a lot to take in. You don’t have to be near any of us if you don’t want to. I just… wanted to make sure you knew it was an option.”
Nina nodded her head. “Duly noted,” she murmured, the prospect of having a shower and heading to bed sounding much more appealing with every passing second. “Thanks.”
Keppler smiled at her, and the effect it had on her was the complete opposite of what his somber mood had
caused her to feel. Hell, it was even different than what she’d felt when she’d seen him in the woods, thinking he was pretending to care about her when he clearly wasn’t…he couldn’t be. It was such a small gesture, such a stupid gesture. It was just a smile. Mrs. Levitt had smiled and grinned at her mere minutes ago, and yet…
She felt… kind of calm. Not quite safe, not the same sense of security and familiarity that she felt whenever she was in a forest. But almost.
Keppler cleared his throat, and Nina shook her head to herself, snapping out of her reflections. “I should, uh, let you get some rest. If you need anything, just let Mrs. Levitt know and she’ll call me, okay?”
“Yeah,” Nina said, clearing her own throat. “Yeah, um… thanks. Again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Nina stepped to the side when Keppler walked to the door. He mumbled a goodnight to her, and once he had left the room, Nina went to the bed and sat down on the edge, all the tension in her body leaving her for the first time in… When had been the last time she had felt safe enough to relax for more than a couple of seconds?
She knew she shouldn’t lower her guard. She knew there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t get stabbed in the back, that this was not all some ploy to lure her into a false sense of security. The last time she had allowed herself to fall for that, she had lost everything and everyone she had ever cared about.
Nina should’ve been out of Evergreen Grove hours ago. She forgave herself for engaging in battle against Eliot, who had cost her the only prey she was going to get that night. She shouldn’t have fought him, but she had, and she could forgive herself for that. What she couldn’t forgive herself for was staying long enough to listen to Keppler after he had shown up, broken up their fight, apparently lectured Eliot, and then offered to let her stay with them until she was well enough to leave. She couldn’t forgive herself for actually listening to him when he had made his offer.