"You actually admitted that you don't make nearly as much as you should as CEO?" asked Robby, incredulous.

"Hey, it worked," I chuckled, unpacking my toiletries in the attached guest bathroom. "Besides, where's the lie?"

"Still, some might get the wrong impression."

"Nah, they just wanted to be sure that we weren't a snake oil salesman."

"You packed your green dress, right?" asked Robby. I got the impression he was sitting in his chair, feet up on the desk and checking his nails.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, and yes I'll send over photos."

"You know how to keep me happy," he laughed. "Anyway, I'll let you rest. I'll connect with you tomorrow morning with schedules."

"Thanks, night Robby."

"Night, Boss Lady."

I hung up, but the tired hum in my bones didn't go with him. The pack house was mostly silent, but I could still hear soft conversations downstairs. No words, just soft murmurs and occasional laughter. It felt so foreign, yet so familiar.

My feet carried me back to the bedroom, my toes sinking into the plush carpet as I moved. A memory surfaced, unbidden and I found myself almost reliving the time I had snuck to the top of the stairs to eavesdrop on the parents that had stayed up. Their conversations and laughter had woken me up and I wanted to know what grown ups talked about. I remembered army crawling along the smooth wooden floor as I listened to my mom's bright laughter and the adults spitballing futures -fated pairs, future Betas, future alphas. I remember wrinkling my nose unhappily as the former Alpha, Warren's dad, said he could see Warren and I being a pair.

I gave a chuckle and pulled out a pair of pjs from my overnight bag. Guess younger me had it right, he did have cooties and I should have stayed away.

The sheets were cool and comfortable against my skin, but it felt too unfamiliar. The mattress was too plush. The scents were wrong, alien to my nose. Still, tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

I could feel myself drift in and out of consciousness until about 2 am. It was like I had set an alarm clock and my body was wide awake. No amount of tossing or turning was going to get me back to sleep.

"Damn it," I growled, sitting up. The world around me was quiet, save a few crickets giving their late night concerts. "I should go for a run."

It was easy to pad downstairs. Even easier to slip out the door and into the tree line. I had to remind myself that this is a pack where werewolves are the majority, not the minority, and that I really don't have to be as on edge as I usually am when I decide to go for a run.

I found a spot to place my pajamas and shifted. I mentally winced as I heard joints and bones pop, it had been too long since I last shifted and the last thing I needed was to get rusty. Once I was fully shifted, though, moving and running came as natural as breathing.

I leapt over boulders, skidded beneath fallen trees, and darted around their standing kin. I couldn't help it, I gave a soft yip of happiness. I wasn't just running—I was remembering how it felt to be untethered. To be unburdened by the day to day. Free.

The stars above looked like a tipped cereal bowl with milk and tiny pieces of cereal strewn about. One of the few things that still reminded me of the desert, even though I was surrounded by trees and greenery.

I chose one at random, a bright star in the Summer Triangle - probably Vega - and followed after it.

Through the forest and meadows, across the river and up a mountain I raced, panting merrily at the exertion. I felt invincible, like I could run forever.

But, as much as I wished for that, I knew I couldn't. There were too many counting on me to just abandon the world and become a simple wolf.

Letting my break-neck momentum die off slowly, I spotted a thin trail up the side of a rocky hill and let my feet start to climb.

Probably an old mountain goat trail or something, I thought, carefully watching where I placed my paws to avoid loose stones. I was about half way up when I scented something on the wind.

Cedar, pink peppercorns and an undercurrent of lavender. It was masculine and reminded me of a spicy cologne I had once bought for Warren that he never wore.

Idiot never realized that scent was a panty dropper for me, I mentally chuckled as I got high enough on the trail to poke my head up to the crest of the hill. Had he worn that though, I may not have let him out of the bedroom for a week.

The moon was extremely bright, but I still couldn't see who the scent belonged to as the trees continued along the crest.

It's not a mate scent, I thought, carefully inching along, letting the shadows dapple my fair fur to a darker color. But it's not unpleasant. I imagined myself rubbing up against another wolf like a cat in heat and mentally chuckled.

Oh, please don't let it be Roger, I thought as I tiptoed around a low bush, that would be beyond awkward.

The trees thinned out the further I moved until it became a sheer cliff face. The view was absolutely breathtaking. It looked as if the sky was a large colander covering the earth, domed and letting in little pieces of light. I nearly missed the large wolf sitting on the edge had it not been for the silver fur on his ears catching the moonlight like two reflectors. The rest of his fur was an inky black that melted into the rest of the night. He didn't turn to look at me, as I tried to stay silent. I thanked my lucky stars that I was upwind from him, or else I would have been noticed immediately.