Page 2

2

MAGNOLIA

S omething’s coming.

I feel it in the way the air hums, charged with an energy that wasn’t there yesterday.

But right now, I’m just trying not to let my littlest sister knock me flat on my back.

“Gotcha!” Lucy yelps, springing up from her crouch behind a chair and lunging at me. Her hands catch my waist, tickling relentlessly, and her laughter peals through the community center like bells.

“Lucy!” I gasp, twisting away and grabbing her by the wrists. “That’s not fair! You’re too fast!”

“You’re too slow,” she says, sticking her tongue out before bolting toward the corner where a few other kids are building a precarious tower out of blocks.

“Easy on the furniture!” I call after her..

The room is alive with motion—bare feet slapping against the smooth floor, little paws skidding as shifted pups chase each other in dizzying circles. Sunlight streams through the high windows, catching on dust motes that swirl lazily in the air. It smells like home: warm bread from the kitchen, roasting vegetables…pack.

My pack.

A giggle from behind me has me turning just in time to see a pair of twins trying to balance on top of each other, one kid’s arms wrapped precariously around the other’s shoulders. I step forward, scooping the top twin off before they can topple.

“Nice try, you two,” I say, setting him on his feet. “But let’s save the acrobatics for outside, okay?”

“Sorry, Miss Maggie,” they chime in unison, flashing gap-toothed smiles.

Miss Maggie. That’s who I am here: the teacher, the caretaker, the one everyone looks to when they need a steady hand.

But sometimes, late at night when the den is quiet, I wonder who I am beyond that.

The feeling’s back now, pressing at the edges of my thoughts. A restlessness, a tug low in my stomach, like something—or someone—is waiting just out of reach. I shake it off, crouching to help a little girl gather her scattered crayons. “Dinner soon, everyone,” I call, earning a chorus of disappointed groans. “Put your toys away.”

I rise, brushing my hands off on my dress, and that’s when I smell it.

A new scent.

It’s faint, but unmistakable, threading through the warm air like a whispered secret. It’s not the woodsmoke and wildflowers of the den—it’s…metallic, dangerous.

An alpha.

A stranger.

My wolf stirs, ears pricked, a low growl rumbling in the back of my mind.

Yeah…something’s coming, alright.

My instincts leave me unsettled, and I gather the kids around me. “Alright, everyone—time to go find your families and settle in for dinner, okay?”

“But Miss Maggie!” one of the kids whines. “It's still early?—”

“I know, honey, but I have a feeling the Prime might have an announcement for us tonight, ‘kay?” I scoop up Lucy, my little sister craning her neck toward the door. “Now let's get to it! Come on!”

The kids groan again, dragging their feet as they scatter toward their parents or head off in small packs toward the dining tables. Lucy squirms in my arms, her energy boundless, even at the end of the day.

“Maggie, do you think it’s about the new person?” she asks, her voice bright with curiosity.

“What new person?” I try to keep my tone light, even as my heart skips.

She tilts her head like it’s obvious. “The one Mom and Dad were talking about. They called him a mackanack.”

I snort. “Can you repeat that for me, bumblebee?”

Lucy scowls. “Don't make fun of me, Maggie…”

“I'm not,” I smile. “I promise. Just trying to teach you a new word. Can you tell me what a ‘mackanack’ is?”

“They said he would fix the trucks,” Lucy clarifies.

“Ah,” I nod. “A mechanic. You almost had it exactly right–and that's a big word! I'm proud of you.”

My sister’s cheeks turn rosy and she flashes me a bashful smile. “Really?”

I nod. “Really,” I say. “Now let's go find Mom. I bet she needs some help in the kitchen.”

I move through the growing crowd with Lucy on my hip, people saying hi to me every so often. When I set Lucy down near the doorway to the kitchen, she scampers off, joining my teenaged brother and sister, River and Kate, as they set the long tables for dinner. My middle siblings barely look up when Lucy barrels toward them, though Kate does manage a half-hearted, “Watch the plates, Lu!”

I linger in the doorway for a moment, my arms crossed as I take in the room. The den’s heart beats strongest here in the kitchen and dining hall—laughter and voices rising, the clink of dishes, the smells of bread and stew filling the space.

But my wolf is restless, pacing inside me.

“Magnolia,” a familiar voice says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I turn to find my mother standing behind me, her hands dusted with flour, her apron tied neatly around her waist. Sarita Jones has a way of commanding attention, even when she’s just preparing dinner. As one of the pack’s oldest members, she calls the shots—sometimes even more than Reyes.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say quickly, pasting on a smile.

Her gaze lingers. “The kids are running circles around you again, aren’t they?”

I let out a small laugh. “When aren’t they?”

Her lips curve, but it’s faint—more thoughtful than amused. “You’ve done a good job with them, Maggie. The den relies on you more than you realize.”

The words are heavy, pressing against the ache I’ve carried for as long as I can remember. My place here has always been clear, always steady. But tonight–for whatever reason–that steadiness feels like a chain, holding me back.

When will I get a life of my own? Not as the pack’s teacher…not as the oldest sister, not as the oldest omega in Austin.

Alone, suffering through every full moon in solitude.

“Thanks, Mom,” I murmur. “I’d better go check on the kids.”

Mom doesn’t stop me, but her gaze follows as I move toward the tables. I force myself to focus, helping Lucy straighten a napkin and nudging River when he tries to sneak a roll before the meal starts?—

Then…I feel it , so strongly that it almost knocks me off my feet.

A presence.

I turn toward the entrance just in time to see Reyes stride in, his mate Tilda at his side. But it’s not the Prime or his mate who catches my attention.

It’s the stranger walking behind them.

The blond man is tall, lean, and rugged in a way that makes my wolf sit up and take notice. His presence is sharp and commanding, his eyes scanning the room, assessing. I catch sight of the color of those eyes: bright blue-green, looking for something.

And that scent…

Dark chocolate, roasted coffee, a hint of motor oil…a scent that begs me to revel in it, to indulge in it.

For a moment, the room blurs at the edges, narrowing to the stranger as his gaze lands on mine.

Something’s coming.

No.

Something’s here.

His lips curve in a smirk…then a smile. And, much to my embarrassment, I realize I must have an absolutely stupid grin on my face.

The three of them walk right past me, attracting more than a little attention from the pack–but I don't care about any of that. The stranger is watching me, eyes locked on mine. One sharp canine snatches the edge of his bottom lip and he…he winks.

I don't think anyone else saw it. That was just for me.

Reyes moves to the head table, Tilda at his side, the stranger shoving his hands in his pockets behind them. I can’t stop looking at him, my pulse getting so fast that I’m afraid my heart’s about to burst out of my chest. I want…I just want. I don’t even know what that means yet, just that I want, I need, to be close to him.

What’s happening to me?

“Good evening, everyone,” Reyes says, the rest of the pack going quiet. That’s how it always is; the Prime demands the pack’s attention, no matter if he’s trying or not. “I spoke with a couple of you about this beforehand, so you may be aware–but I wanted to introduce you to Colt Morgan, our new mechanic,” he says. “I know things can get cagey around outsiders here, but rest assured we spoke with a few people out in Austin and New Orleans and he’s…”

I can’t bother to pay attention to anything else Reyes is saying; I’m too fixated on Colt Morgan, on the tattoos spiraling down his throat, beneath his tattered black t-shirt and leather jacket. He’s not looking at me anymore, but I can still feel the tension radiating between us.

Or maybe it’s just me. Just a crush.

I’ve never had a crush on anyone before.

“Happy to be here,” Colt is saying. “Feel free to swing by the shop if you need anything fixed, I’m here at your service.”

Even those simple words do something to me, heat pooling in the pit of my stomach. I instantly start searching my mind for anything I need fixed at home or in the classroom, a simple reason to go and see him.

Why? Heck if I know.

The rest of dinner is a blur. I go through the motions: helping Lucy to her seat, stopping River from stacking rolls on his plate like a tower. The noise and warmth of the pack surround me, but my mind is elsewhere.

It’s on him. Colt.

Even his name feels dangerous, like a loaded gun or the kick of an engine. I can’t stop replaying the moment our eyes locked, the way his smirk curled just enough to make my pulse race. My wolf—who I usually try very hard to ignore—stirs every time I think about it, pacing in restless circles inside me.

“Maggie, are you even listening?” Kate elbows me, pulling me back to the present.

“Huh?” I blink, realizing she’s been talking to me while Lucy’s tugging on my sleeve.

“I said, what’s with you tonight?” Kate’s teasing grin softens with curiosity. “You’re all spacey. Usually, you’re Miss Perfectly Poised.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Just…a lot on my mind.”

Kate narrows her eyes but doesn’t press further. Thank goodness.

The last thing I need is her digging into why my face is suddenly so warm.

After dinner, the pack starts clearing out in small groups. Families head back to their cabins, older wolves linger for a bit of conversation, and the pups—bless them—wear themselves out chasing each other around the tables. The last plates are stacked, the tables wiped clean, and the hum of the dining hall has softened into the quiet shuffle of chairs being put back into place.

My best friend Peaches stands at the far end of the hall, her dimpled smile in place as she wipes down one of the long tables. Her curly red hair catches the faint glow of the overhead bulbs, the bounce of it soft and familiar. She’s humming to herself as I walk over, wanting something—anything—to distract me.

“Almost done over there?” I ask, leaning against one of the chairs.

“Almost,” she chirps. “You’re stayin’ late too?”

I shrug. “Habit, I guess.”

Peaches pauses, her big brown eyes flicking to mine, and the smile she gives me is so familiar that I wonder if she already knows exactly what I’ve been thinking about.

She’s like that—always looking at people like she knows their hearts.

“So,” she says, “what did you think of the new guy?”

I freeze, gripping the back of the chair a little too tightly. “What new guy?”

Peaches raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “The one Reyes introduced at dinner. Colt? Tall, blond, tattoos for days? You know, the one who couldn’t stop starin’ at you.”

My cheeks flush so fast I swear I feel the heat rise. “He wasn’t staring at me.”

Peaches grins, that knowing sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, honey, he was. And let me tell you, that man looks like trouble wrapped in leather and bad decisions.”

I try to laugh it off, busying myself with stacking the last few chairs. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Peaches leans on her rag, folding it neatly as she tilts her head. “Because I saw the way you looked at him too. Like he was the last slice of pie at the table.”

“Peaches,” I groan, hiding my face in my hands.

“I’m just sayin’,” she teases, “a little pie never hurt anyone.”

Her words tug at something inside me—curiosity, embarrassment, and that strange, magnetic pull I felt the moment Colt’s eyes met mine. I glance toward the door, half-expecting to see him still lingering in the shadows, but the hall is empty.

“He’s an alpha,” I murmur, half to myself. “And a stranger, at that. You know my parents wouldn’t approve.”

Peaches snorts, tossing her rag onto the table. “Since when do your parents approve of anything remotely fun? You’re twenty-four, Maggie. Flirt a little. It won’t kill you.”

I press my lips together, a laugh slipping out despite myself. “You sound like Kate.”

“Yeah, well, your sister has a point.” Peaches winks. “And this one? He’s got the whole pack buzzing. Mystery man, tattoos, a broody attitude—it’s practically a romance novel.”

My cheeks heat as I pick up a stray napkin and tuck it into the trash bin. “It’s not like that.”

“Not yet,” she says, her dimpled smile playful. “But it could be.”

I shake my head, trying to laugh it off, but my wolf stirs uneasily. “I don’t know, Peaches. There’s just…something about him.”

“Of course there is!” Peaches leans her hip against the table, her curls bouncing as she gestures dramatically. “He’s got that ‘I’ve seen some things’ vibe. You know—like a tragic backstory just waiting to be uncovered.”

I let out a soft laugh. “You really think it’s all that dramatic?”

Peaches shrugs, her grin wide. “If it isn’t, I’ll make it that way in my head. Come on, Maggie, don’t you ever just…want something wild? Something out of the ordinary?”

Well…I guess I don’t know. My life has been anything but wild, every moment spent trying to be what the pack needs, what my family expects. I keep my hands busy wiping down a chair, the ache in my chest tightening as her question lingers.

“I’m not sure I’d know what to do with wild,” I admit quietly.

Peaches tilts her head. “Maybe it’s not about knowing. Maybe it’s about letting it find you.”

She turns back to the table, humming to herself as she folds the rag in her hands. I stay rooted to the spot, my fingers curling and uncurling against the back of the chair. The scent from earlier still lingers faintly in the air, smoky and sharp, threading through the musk of the den. It prickles at the edge of my senses, a pull I can’t explain.

I glance toward the door, half-expecting to see him standing there. Of course, the doorway is empty, and I shake my head, trying to shove the thought aside.

But no matter how much I try, I can’t stop thinking about him.

Colt Morgan.

And when I lie awake tonight, staring at the ceiling, I know it’s his eyes I’ll see.