Page 47

An hour later, I stepped back and froze.

I’d painted a wolf—not explicitly any particular one, but the powerful silhouette against a moonlit forest, the suggestion of watchful eyes and protective stance… it could have been any of them. All of them.

“Traitor,” I muttered to my hand, setting down the brush with more force than necessary.

A knock at the door saved me from contemplating my apparent inability to escape even in my art.

“You hiding in there?” Drew’s voice called.

“I’m working,” I replied, quickly turning the canvas to face the wall. “Very important artist things happening.”

“Well, stop being important and come be social,” he countered. “We’re heading to the beach, and Sophia’s already threatened to hunt you down if you don’t come willingly.”

I sighed, setting down my palette. “Fine. Give me five minutes to change.”

The beach sounded good, actually. Open space, fresh air, and most importantly, distance from the main house where three alpha werewolves were probably discussing my future without my input.

Ten minutes later, I trailed behind Drew and his friends as we headed down the private path to the Sinclairs’ stretch of beach. The afternoon sun was warm on my skin, and for a moment, I could almost pretend things were normal.

“So.” Sophia fell into step beside me. “What are you up to now? Drew mentioned you’re crazy talented with art.”

“Trying to escape to art school,” I said, then winced at my poor word choice. “I mean, I’m applying to programs. Though my applications seem to be getting mysteriously rejected at record speed.”

She gave me a knowing look. “Protective alpha brothers with connections?”

“How did you?—”

“Please.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Xander, my cousin, once had my prom date investigated by private security. Old wolf families all operate from the same playbook.”

“That’s… actually terrifying.”

“Blackwoods.” She shrugged, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

“Your family has a reputation,” I said carefully.

“For being traditional, stuck-up purists?” she asked bluntly. “Yeah, that’s the old guard. My generation’s different.”

“Hence the powder-blue Beetle instead of a black SUV with tinted windows?”

She grinned. “Exactly. Drives my uncle crazy, which is half the point.”

We reached the beach, and I felt something in my chest loosen at the sight of the endless Pacific stretching before us. Drew and Tyler immediately stripped down to their shorts and raced toward the surf.

“Boys,” Mia said with a fond eye roll as she spread out a blanket. “No matter the species, they never grow up.”

I settled onto the blanket beside her, watching as Jake joined the others in what appeared to be a competition to see who could get the most soaked in the shortest time.

“Not joining them?” Sophia asked, stretching out like a cat in the sun.

“I prefer to maintain my dignity and stay dry, thanks,” I replied. “Besides, someone needs to guard the snacks from seagulls.”

“Smart thinking.” She laughed.

Drew chose that moment to return from the water, shaking himself like the wolf he was and spraying us all with icy droplets.

“Drew!” Mia shrieked, holding up her hands in a futile attempt to block the water. “I will end you!”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” he taunted, dancing away as she lunged for him.