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Cool air caresses my skin, a hint of ice in the breath of wind that stirs through the room. It does nothing to soothe me. Warm sweat beads on my brow and trickles uncomfortably down my sides, making me itch.

I have to help my son, but I don’t know what to do!

Sitting up, I punch the cushions behind me, trying to get more comfortable on the couch. It doesn’t matter how many times I readjust. I can’t settle, and I know it’s not the couch’s fault.

As I flick through pages on my phone, a dull pain spreads across my forehead.

Great. Now I’ve got eye strain as well as a stress headache.

I put the phone down for a second, my vision blurry from staring at the rolling pictures and text. I was scrolling so fast, I wasn’t even absorbing the information.

Like I’m going to find anything on the internet that would help me. This is a stupid idea!

Taking a deep breath, I swing my feet to the floor and put my hands on my temples, massaging them. Stress has been building in me by the day, and I know if I don’t help my son soon, terrible things are going to happen.

For seven years, we’ve been safe in West Glacier, Montana. It’s been a peaceful, quiet existence, without interference from the pack or their damn politics.

I was an outcast there… born without a shifter gene, a freak, a dangerous anomaly. Even before the incident, I wanted to leave.

My mind violently shies away from remembering why I abandoned my pack. I fled from Quartz Key to West Glacier, the nearest town to the range inhabited by werewolves, the mythic creatures I’m supposed to be related to.

In the human world, these places have their own names, but to us, the mountains and valleys between Rainbow Peak and Mount Oberlin are called Wolfshade. The area is scattered with small towns unknown to humans, linked by a road called Lycan Pass.

Just thinking about it stirs homesickness in me. I do miss the wild peaks and deep valleys, the heavy feel of magic in the air wrapping me in comfort and safety. But living in the human world is difficult. I have to keep my guard up at all times.

It would be good to go home… and I may have no choice.

My son, Nico, has begun to show signs of shifting soon, and I can’t help him—because I can’t change. I was never able to shift, and other wolves don’t recognize me as one of them. More than once, I was told my scent disturbed the others because I smelled like a human.

I’m just a dull, ordinary human, not a shifter, a witch, or any other magical creature. So painfully “normal” that I disrupted the magical system that permeates the air throughout Wolfshade.

The first night I walked in on Nico having a vicious nightmare, it ripped my soul in two. Not just because my son was in pain, but because I can’t help him, and I will never be able to.

I have no options. None. I can’t watch my son suffer!

His nightmares are getting worse and more frequent. Nico tosses and turns, boiling hot and sweating with fever almost every night. He tells me he dreams of being chased through the forest, a predator on his heels with sharp teeth that runs him down. He always wakes just as it pounces.

It’s his wolf. And it will haunt him until he embraces it and changes for the first time.

Nico needs guidance to work through his first change, and it will be traumatic for him even if he has help. If the change goes badly, he could be injured, scarred for life, trapped in his wolf shape forever, or go mad.

There are endless options, really, and none of them are pretty.

Sighing, I reach for my phone again and flop back onto the couch. I’ve been randomly searching lore about werewolves and other magical creatures, hoping to find something helpful. All legends and stories have roots in fact, and I had no other choice but to try.

My eyes start to ache again as link after link comes up, all of it modern, trope-driven, creature-feature stuff. I’m almost ready to close my phone in defeat when a bright blue pop-up blinks at the bottom of the screen.

I’ve pretty much trained myself to never look at ads, but my eyes are immediately drawn to it.

Why is there an ad for a bride service on a page about werewolves in American history?

My thumb hovers, ready to close the page. But at the last second, I tap on the ad.

What the fuck am I doing?

Welcome to Porter’s “bride for hire” service! Please click here to register your interest!

I tap on the big pink button, and the loading screen twirls for a few seconds before a chat thread comes up.

Hi, welcome to Porter’s matching service! Can you tell me where you were born?

I hesitate for a second before simply typing “USA.”

Which town, please? Be as specific as possible, even if the town isn’t well-known.

A slightly evil grin twists on my lips. I know exactly how to get out of this chat—by giving a “fake” town.

Crystal Key, Lycan Pass.

That’s fantastic! We have a match waiting for a bride in that exact area. Do you know the pack personally?

My thumb is frozen above the screen as I stare at the words in shock. What the fuck is going on? I think in panic.

Don’t worry! Here at Porter’s, we are aware of the otherworld, and your privacy is our first priority! Everything is strictly confidential to protect you and your husband-to-be! Can you fill out this questionnaire?

I shake my head slowly, letting out the deep breath I’ve been holding. The next page opens, and I click through the questions, adding details about myself.

Wonderful! Thank you, Clara. We’d like to invite you to a meeting at Apgar tomorrow afternoon. Does that suit you?

Tomorrow? I type the word as fast as it flashes through my mind.

There is urgency on both sides here, Clara. You need help, and so does the gentleman in question. We’d like the match to be made as quickly as possible.

But what about my son?

Your son will be made welcome in this relationship, I assure you! You can bring him with you, or not, as you like, but it might be better to meet your new husband on your own terms first.

I stare at the screen, nerves bubbling in my stomach until it threatens to boil over.

You need help for your son, don’t you, Clara?

I stare at the screen, feeling like the voice on the other side of it knows way too much.

Yes.

Your son will get the help he needs, Clara. Please trust me on that. The other party is very eager to meet you both. If it comforts you at all, know that the money will be wired into your preferred account as payment for this assignment straight away. We pay our brides well! I can personally promise full support for you and your son.

I stare at the screen, my gut twisting. This is all too weird. I was looking for a way to help my son, and I didn’t think clicking on a link for mail-order brides was going to be the ticket.

I only entertained this out of curiosity, I think. Then the mention of Lycan Pass… obviously, this is putting me into a pack, and Nico needs that badly. I didn’t want to do this just for money, but to be fair, I don’t have much of that, either.

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Are you still there, Clara?

Yes , I type . I’m still here.

Are you willing to meet at Apgar tomorrow afternoon?

My chest feels so tight, I can barely move, and my stomach twists into a ball of nerves. I’m sweating again, and my back feels hot and itchy. Finally, my trembling fingers type the words.

I’ll be there.

The next afternoon, I’m standing at the edge of Lake McDonald, watching the rippling water and trying to stay calm. North to northeast of here, along the edge of the lake, a secret road runs all the way to Glacier National Park. From there, Lycan Pass leads to Wolfshade, and right at the end, near Rainbow Peak and Quartz Lake, is our hometown, Quartz Key.

The silence of the area is softly enhanced by the rippling waves, the sighing wind, and the occasional bird cry. I keep my eyes on the lake, trying not to look into the nearby woods where the secret path is.

Thoughts of my son creep into my mind. I wrestle between doing this for him and potentially creating a situation where he won’t be happy, but having to live with it.

I’ve been lucky. He’s never really asked about his father. What am I supposed to tell him about this?

Nico barely brought up his dad, but he did ask about our magical heritage and why we lived in the human world. I hoped he would be like me—just human and normal—but obviously, he always knew he was different, even before the shifter gene began to manifest.

I swallow a lump in my throat, wondering if I did the wrong thing by raising him in the human world away from his own kind.

I had no choice!

“Clara?”

A smooth, clear voice cuts through my frantic thoughts. As I turn around, my gaze focuses on a statuesque woman standing behind me. She’s tall and slender, with slight curves that are enhanced by a perfectly tailored suit in pastel pink. A white silk collar peeks out at the edge of the fitted jacket’s finely cut lapels, and the knee-length skirt shows off her long, slim legs.

Even though the area is rugged, she’s wearing killer pink pumps. They’re higher than anything I’d ever attempt to wear, even on a flat surface.

“Yes?” I answer.

“I’m Iris Porter, the head of the agency. It’s so nice to meet you!” she replies warmly. When she cocks her head and smiles, her pale gray eyes sparkle.

“Thanks,” I say. “You too.” I walk to her and shake her hand. Her grip is firm but not hard, and immediately, I get a good feeling about her. She’s so perfectly put together, it’s difficult not to feel threatened—even every inch of her very long blond hair is pulled into a twist at the back of her head without a single hair escaping to trail around her pretty face.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing coffee for you,” she says, sitting down at a nearby picnic table and gesturing to the bench across from her. “I just thought it would save time. So, here—sweet, milky cappuccino with extra chocolate.”

Iris hands the cup to me, and I stare at it warily.

How does she know how I like my coffee?

“How are you feeling?” Iris asks. “Nervous, or excited?”

“Both,” I admit. “I really can’t decide how I’m feeling.”

Iris chuckles. “That’s completely normal, don’t worry. I promise you, I will be there to support you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate that.”

My stomach flips again, and I take a sip of coffee to cover my discomfort. I don’t want to go home to Quartz Key—in fact, it’s the last thing I want to do, but it’s the only thing that can help Nico. I take some comfort from the fact that I’ll be matched and married, meaning the old hurts from my past won’t be able to touch me.

Maybe I won’t even have to see him again.

I mentally scoff at that thought. Fat chance of that happening!

“Okay, Clara,” Iris says, opening her briefcase, “I’ll just get you to go through your contract and sign. Your partner should be here any minute. Once I have your signature, the contract is binding.”

“How binding?” I ask. “What if it doesn’t work out… or if there’s another claim on me?”

Iris smiles, shaking her head a little. “Our matches are for life. It’s very doubtful there will be any other claims on your heart, and so far, none of our matches have had difficulties. I’m very good at what I do, dear.”

Even though I’m not entirely convinced, I take the pen from her hand. I flick briefly through the contract, but it’s three pages of mostly legal jargon I don’t really understand, so I just sign it and hand the pen back.

“How long will we have to wait?” I ask, my anxiety starting to rise. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“He is here,” Iris says, turning around. “I’m pretty sure he just arrived. I felt the disturbance at the edge of the hidden road.”

Felt?

Is she a wolf? A witch? What is she?

“Just walk up towards the lake, dear, and see if you can see someone coming,” Iris suggests.

I get up and head towards the lake, my heart in my throat and my stomach wrapped in tight knots. I’m starting to wonder what I’ve done—binding myself into a contract with a man I don’t even know.

Well, chances are I do know him. Quartz Key isn’t that big.

I take a deep breath and hold it as I approach the lake, trying to calm down. I have to do this for Nico. He needs to be back in the pack, surrounded by wolves again, and with a shifter who can help him through his first change.

He could die if he doesn’t get help. I have to do this!

That’s when the air shimmers ahead of me, like heatwaves radiating from scorching-hot bitumen. I know it’s the disturbance of a being coming through the barrier from the hidden road. After a second, the air stops bubbling, and the shape of a man solidifies.

He has his back to me, looking out over the lake. He’s wearing a long, fitted trench coat that flaps against his legs, billowing a little in the wind. I can’t see much of him except his ash-blond hair and tall stature.

Something about the set of his shoulders…

The curiosity inside me disappears, replaced by intense, cold panic. My heart is frozen, and my guts have exploded into butterflies. My knees shiver violently, and I stop walking, just staring ahead at the man silhouetted against the sheen on the water.

No, no, no!

As if sensing me, he turns, looking slowly over his shoulder. His eyes are dark, almost black.

But I know they’re green. Right up close, looking straight into them, those eyes are deep green… like needles on winter pines.

It can’t be!

When he speaks, his voice is deep but musical, just how I remember it.

“Hello, Clara.”

Galen.

Of all the wolves in the world, it had to be Galen!

Nico’s father.