“This is the compromise; they come into the commons, say ‘hello’ to you, then talk to the Elders. Because the level of attraction varies, we interview them. They must formally request permission from me to come see you again if they think of you as more than just interesting. They are not allowed to approach you while you are on your own. If they were to approach me for a second meeting, I would speak with you first before approving or denying their request.”

The light filtering through the canopy cast the road into dusky shadow. I stopped walking and turned to Sam.

“What you’re saying is, eventually werewolves would find me; but, if I stay with you, you’d be my buffer?” He nodded. I studied him. “And I’d only have to say hi to these guys. It’d be up to me if I wanted to spend any additional time with them?” He nodded again.

I liked Paul and Henry. They oozed useful information and didn’t react to me at all. The others I’d already met hadn’t seemed too interested, either.

When Paul and Henry had mentioned mating duels, I imagined drowning in a writhing mass of hostile bodies, all in various stages of transformation. I still dreamt about Sam shifting. The dreams and my fueled imagination bothered me. But since arriving, everyone had remained in human form and nothing freaky had happened. The general population of werewolves couldn’t be all bad. I just didn’t like the way I had to meet them. Yet, now that the werewolves knew I existed, trying to live on my own didn’t sound like a good idea. I’d be better off with Sam. He’d keep the others away.

“Fine, let’s go back.”

Paul and Henry were playing cards while they ate their way through a stack of sandwiches set out on the coffee table. They waved me over, and I gladly joined their game and grabbed a sandwich for myself.

Several more werewolves came in throughout the day. Sam led each one to me. Most left after a polite nod of hello. A few asked for a second meeting. Each time, Sam would look at me and, at the shake of my head, reject the request. It relieved me to see him keep his word and restored some of my shaken confidence in him.

We packed up and left Sunday morning. I mostly paid attention to the scenery since I’d missed the majority of it on the way there. While I watched the trees flash by, I thought about the weekend. None of the guys I’d met seemed too upset over any type of rejection. For as much emphasis as they’d put on my smelling good to just about all werewolves, their laidback attitude didn’t make much sense to me.

“Why did the guys seem okay with their second request being rejected?”

“Although you smelled good to them, they knew it wasn’t just right. When it is, they won’t give up, which is why staying with me is so important. We have laws that control certain aspects of the social side of the pack. One is that unMated human females, like you, cannot be approached without the approval of the nearest Elder.”

“Then, why can’t you just tell them all ‘no’ for me in advance, so we don’t have to mess with this whole Introduction thing?”

“Because I have to give them the chance to see for themselves that it’s not right. Was it that bad? Meeting people? No one treated you the way some human men have treated you.”

I couldn’t disagree. “How often is this going to happen?”

“Once a month.”

I sat up straighter. “No way.” I shook my head for emphasis. It was a cool enough place, but sixteen hours of driving in a single weekend every month would get boring. “Once every two months.”

“Every five weeks, with flexibility to switch weeks if needed,” he said.

“Seven weeks.”

“Six,” he said with a sideways glance at me.

“Fine, every six weeks,” I compromised. Then I threw in another condition. “Until I graduate. Then, I’m going to college and won’t be obligated to take time out of studying for dating—or whatever you want to call this—if I don’t want to.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

I stared at him. He’d agreed too easily. Was that a hint of a smile on his mouth? Why did I feel like I just got the raw end of the deal? I’d have to play my cards carefully so I didn’t find myself hitched in some weird backwoods werewolf custom.

Chapter 3

Sam sat at the worn, oak table in the middle of the sunlit kitchen. He scowled at its dull surface, and when I walked into the room, he transferred the glum look to me. I shook my head at him and went to make his morning coffee.

Sam and mornings didn’t mesh well. I’d realized that as soon as I’d moved in. How a werewolf, usually graceful and strong, could stumble and mumble until he had his caffeine still confused me. With his werewolf metabolism, I doubted it really did anything for him. Regardless, I still took pity on him and tried to wake up first to start a pot—even though it wasn’t my drink of preference in the morning.

Today, however, his familiar morning scowl didn’t solely relate to his need for coffee. After two years of almost monthly visits to the Canadian werewolf community, this weekend would be my last, and he didn’t like it. Happily, I hadn’t met a single werewolf who had any type of pull on me.

The way I figured it, I’d fulfilled my end of our deal. Though school had scheduled graduation for Sunday, I’d opted not to attend. I had no desire to put this visit off for another week. The faculty could mail my diploma. After this weekend, I planned to work as much as possible to save up what I could before going off to college.

I measured out the coffee grounds and reflected back on my time with Sam. I’d kept him company, and his mere presence had kept me safe while he’d provided me with the information I needed about the werewolves and the pack community. Although Sam had shared so much of the werewolves’ life and culture, I acknowledged I still didn’t know everything. It didn’t matter, though. I’d learned enough...and not just about werewolves.

Sam was a great role model for responsibility and planning. It’s what he did for the pack. Because of him, I already worked as much as I could after school. But, it wasn’t just his example that pushed me to become so dedicated to work and financial responsibility. Shortly after I moved in with Sam, I’d discovered that work commitments ensured he couldn’t talk me into going to the Compound more than we’d bargained. He knew I’d need the means to get an education and support myself and never tried to talk me out of working. So, I worked and I tried to bank enough money to hold me over while I went to school.

As an Elder of the pack, Sam was extremely down to earth and wise. He carefully thought through all decisions with a deliberate calm that I admired. He didn’t think of himself when making any decision, only of the pack. Their welfare ruled his life. Thankfully, even though he hadn’t managed to tie me to anyone, he considered me part of the pack. That meant when I talked, he listened with his full attention, which I really did like.

Coffee brewing, I leaned against the counter and openly smirked at Sam.

“Come on, don’t be pouty about this. We made a deal, and I stuck to it. I’ve met more man-dogs than I can remember. Some, even twice.” My made-up term seemed to amuse him.

I pushed away from the counter and walked behind his chair. Resting my forearms on his shoulders, I rolled them outward and pressed down with my full weight. The tension slowly left his shoulders, and I rested my chin on his head. Yeah, I was that short compared to him.

“Tell me you’re going to be okay without me here.” I couldn’t remember my real grandpa, but over the last two years, Sam had filled that role well, despite our rough start. I knew he had managed his own coffee in the morning for years before I’d moved in with him, but I still wondered what he’d do without me here to keep him company.

He sighed gustily and reached back to pat my cheek, the extent of affection I allowed with him. It had been a gradual progress to work up to it. He knew most physical contact made me uncomfortable. He understood it and never seemed offended by it. I’d held myself away from people for so long, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be completely comfortable with casually touching anyone.