He set the drink down. “Just don’t like my family messed with.”

“Understandable,” Roman said, taking Kevin’s hand and bringing his knuckles briefly to his lips. It was a

decidedly old-fashioned gesture, and it reminded Kevin of how old Roman really was. He thought again

of those old pictures on the walls of his mansion. “I keep a cabin in the Poconos, and the pack and I are

arranging a hunt this weekend. Care to join us?”

The idea excited him, but then a hundred werewolf movies flashed through his brain. “What kind of hunt,

exactly? I mean, you don’t go after…?”

“Elk. Though a few more ambitious members of my pack have been known to hunt bear or the occasional

moose.”

“No humans?” Kevin half-joked.

But Roman’s eyes were deadly serious. “That would be against pack ordinance. We never hunt human

beings. It would be petty, foolish, and potentially dangerous on our part. We could easily expose our

secret to human beings.”

That brought Kevin some relief, though he didn’t know if he was exactly ready to take on a bear or moose

yet. “It sounds fun.” It would be good to get away from the city after this crazy week, spend some time

with his new pack mates and learn what it meant to be a Pedigree werewolf. “I assume plenty of food and

sex will follow.”

“Where we go, food and sex always follows.” Roman smirked, kissing his hand again.

***

Chapter Twelve

Roman said the cabin was one of his holdings, but Kevin wasn’t prepared for it when he saw it. Their

small caravan of Jeeps and Range Rovers turned a final bend in the snaky mountain road, and the lodge

became visible over a rise of tall pine trees. He expected a hunting cabin not unlike Jolene’s, but as

Roman drove his Hummer up the final stretch of gravel, Kevin in the passenger seat and the other pack

members following in vehicles a few feet behind, Kevin spotted what looked like one of the many posh

new luxury lodges that dotted the landscape in this part of the Poconos.

The structure was huge and artistically rustic, geometrically designed to resemble a Swiss chalet, though

obviously new. It could easily accommodate the thirteen members of the pack and then some. Kevin shook

his head, realizing he would never get used to this fancy new lifestyle of city mansions and country

lodges. It all felt like a dream, somehow.

The boys got out of the half dozen vehicles parked on the white gravel, laughing and calling to each other,

pushing and shoving, ripping their T-shirts over their heads, more than ready for the first run of the

weekend. Kevin got out and was immediately surrounded by Roman and Anya. Roman was pulling his tie

off. Anya touched Kevin’s arm briefly. “We’ll settle in later. The pack is restless. Can you feel it,

Kevin?”

“Yeah,” he said. Nervous energy surrounded the small group of naked men as they, one by one, went

down on all fours and began shifting into their wolf forms. He noticed they did it differently than he. For

Kevin, Roman and Anya, the shift was fluid, a part of their genetic makeup. They had been born

werewolves, natural shapeshifters. But the betas were different, more like the werewolves that Kevin had

seen in movies, and he flinched at the sight. Their muscles spasmed and their bones broke and re-mended

as they assumed canine form, sleek, shining fur sprouting from every pore of their bodies, long, bloodstreaked

claws replacing fingernails, and long muzzles full of razor-sharp teeth ripping through their oncehandsome

faces. They grunted and snarled as the shift made their bodies twist in unnatural ways and

reassemble themselves into a form he knew all too well.

Soon Kevin, Roman and Anya stood among a dozen nervously pacing wolves, heads low in submission

and big, triangular ears laid flat, their huge, muscular bodies trembling with hunger and anticipation and

foaming drool pouring from the corners of their mouths. A few snapped at each other as their bloodlust

got the best of them.

Roman turned to Kevin and said, “After you.”

Excitement and the feel of pack—of family—made Kevin forget all about being naked in front of all these

men. He quickly undressed and shifted fluidly into his wolf form. He was slightly larger than the betas,

and his fur was a deep, rich auburn color. Roman and Anya were the last to shift, Roman into the black

wolf with sun-bright yellow eyes that he remembered from his last visit to these mountains and Anya into

a huge, all-white wolf. Both raced up to him and rubbed their sides against him and licked at his face and

mouth. He licked them in return, licked inside Roman’s and Anya’s mouths as a way of acknowledging

them as his alphas, than the whole pack took off running into the forest as if a secret signal had been given.

Roman took the lead and Anya brought up the rear. Kevin chose a place near the edges of the pack, not too

close to any one of the wolves as he wasn’t sure which one was Fenrir and didn’t want to do something

that might piss off the jealous beta. A wolf with reddish fur flanked him on one side and he felt a twinge

of worry before recognizing the wolf’s scent as Jonah. Jonah barked encouragingly at him and Kevin

answered happily, making a point of sticking close. At least he had one other wolf, beside Roman, on his

side.

The pack cut through the forest like a knife, barking and yipping their happiness. They bounded over

deadfalls, zipped across shallow creeks, and raced over the otherwise impenetrable mountain terrain.

Kevin could smell no trace of humans—the forest surrounding the lodge was too pitted with cliffs,

dangerous caverns, deadfalls, rocky inclines and thick, unmanageable forest. There was no way hunters,

hikers or anyone on two legs could forge trails in such inhospitable land. Roman yipped at the pack,

leading them on and telling them in the most primitive way possible that they should follow him, that he

would protect them, lead them, provide for them.

Kevin had never been happier in his entire life. The scent of earth, sky and pack filled his senses to

overflowing. He could smell a hundred different animals, a thousand different tracks, and were he alone,

he might have tarried over them, but he was with his pack, and his pack led him on. He barked happily,

enjoying the closeness and company of the others, his family.

It wasn’t long before he realized that Roman was following one scent in particular. Soon, the pack sprang

from a cover of trees and converged on a large elk bearing a heavy, sprawling rack grazing on

wildflowers in a nearby meadow. The elk bayed and took off into a panicked, cantering run through the

trees, but the wolves easily gave chase.

Kevin snorted air in and out of his lungs as he endeavored to keep up with the others. He wasn’t used to

such exertion, but he relished the challenge. As a lone wolf, he’d only hunted small, safe prey. Squirrels

and chipmunk, the occasional opossum. This animal was huge, armed and dangerous, more than anything