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Beckett bounded through the forest, bringing up the rear of the team. Trevor was in front, Trent and Troy were just behind him, while Crew and Beckett lagged a bit behind them. They were on a forest trail, heading due east, within a mile of the resort. The three snowmobiles were moving on the side of the road just outside the forest. They’d met up with Mac and Bruin at the edge of Trevor’s property, and since then, the pair had been behaving.

Beckett was enjoying himself. He didn’t run as a wolf near enough, and every time he caught a glimpse of Cerise driving the snowmobile, he imagined she was having the time of her life, and he liked that. She loved to drive anything with a motor.

The sound of the snowmobile engines changed and Beckett stepped off the path to see what was going on. Bruin and Mac had left the others and cut into the forest, driving straight across Beckett’s path, making him stop short.

“Sorry about that, Boots,” Mac called out as they crossed Beckett’s trail.

They went around some trees, then cut out of the forest, then back in, and it pissed Beckett off. Those two assholes were going to get stuck and have to be dug out.

The two dumbasses went past some evergreen trees and then the engine cut off. Beckett headed that way to see what was up. He made his way around a large evergreen tree, then another, then he could hear them talking from behind a third.

“This is what we’re gonna do,” Mac was saying. “We knock the stew over, spill some of it in the snow, then we tell everyone it was all spilled… and then we can finish it off, just the two of us.”

“Good plan,” Bruin said.

Beckett heard the clang and slosh of a full stockpot being moved around and his irritation spiked. What the fuck was wrong with those two?

He rounded the tree good and pissed, shifting into a man as he went, saying, “That’s a fucking stupid pl—”

He stopped short. Mac and Bruin were in their seats on the snowmobile and the stew was still duct-taped shut and strapped down.

Mac laughed, and Bruin grinned. Mac hit Bruin on the shoulder. “Go, go!”

Bruin started the snowmobile and zoomed out of there, with Mac yelling, “See ya later, No-Boots!”

Beckett shifted back into a wolf, shaking his head. He returned to the team, not saying a word to anyone. He should have known they were baiting him.

Within a few more minutes of trotting, Trevor and the others stopped at the edge of the forest. Beckett caught up with them and saw they had arrived at the resort. Across the road was the turn-off, and the snowmobilers had driven halfway down it, then parked near the resort sign. Beckett was the only one who couldn’t speak ruhi , but he knew the plan and it didn’t involve him just yet, so he waited.

Trent and Troy left the cover of the trees and went out to the snowmobiles. Beckett knew the road was out there somewhere, but the snow was so deep he couldn’t see it. Across the way, Ella was putting ‘police dog’ vests on Trent and Troy, and in a few minutes, the snowmobilers were back on the move, but now with two ‘police dog’ escorts.

The three wolves paced just inside the tree line and when Beckett lost sight of the snowmobilers, he lay down to wait. Crew did the same, while Trevor stood, staring at the road.

***

Dahlia smiled, enjoying herself as they snowmobiled down the road. She really liked catching glimpses of the wolves running through the forest as they kept pace with the snowmobiles, and now that Trent and Troy were running with them, it felt like they had wolf escorts. She loved it—she’d felt a deep connection to wolves her entire life, and now that she was mated to a wolven , she knew why.

They rounded a bend, and there was the Serenity Falls Resort, looking like any other roadside motel you could see on the side of any highway in the U.S., making Dahlia wonder if it was just a motel that called itself a resort. There were several large mounds of snow in front of the building that were probably cars, and the light was on inside the office, but those were the only signs of life.

Ella parked her snowmobile and so did Cerise, while Mac and Bruin kept going, around the back of the place. They took their helmets off and stood up.

“So much fun!” Ella said. Her color was high and her eyes were flashing.

They stomped snow off their boots, then the three of them went inside while Ella held the door open for Trent and Troy. A young man sat behind the front desk, his feet up on it, watching a movie on a laptop. When he saw them, he paused the movie and faced them. He looked bored as hell, until he saw Trent and Troy.

“Whoa,” he said, eyes wide. “Is this a raid?” His nametag said he was ‘Brent’.

“Not a raid,” Ella said, grinning. “We’re checking in. We called ahead about our dogs and were told it was no problem.”

“You a cop?”

Ella pulled something out of her snowsuit, like maybe she might be, and Brent’s eyes went wide, but it was just a wallet. She slapped it on the counter.

“Not me,” she said. “I just want a room.”

“Rooms we got,” Brent said. “Name?”

“Burbank.”

Brent tapped away at his keyboard until he found the reservation. Within five minutes, they all had room keys, and they were back outside. Dahlia had room 10B and Cerise had room 11B, while Ella had the Presidential Suite.

They walked down the row of rooms until they found 10B. Before Dahlia could put her key in the door, Crew and Beckett walked around the corner of the building, both wearing jeans, jackets, and snow boots.

Dahlia grinned and kissed her male. “Where’d you come from? How’d you get dressed?”

“Mac brought our clothes and we walked in.”

“Perfect timing.”

Beckett waved Ella around the building in the direction they’d come from. “Trevor’s waiting for you at your suite.”

Ella smiled and headed that way with the two wolves.

Dahlia opened 10B, Cerise opened 11B, and they went in their respective rooms. Dahlia flipped on all the lights and… was not impressed.

The place was small and dark, even with the lights on, and it was old and maybe a little dingy.

“It looked bigger in the pictures,” she said.

“Sure did,” Crew said, flopping down on the bed, which squeaked and creaked. He frowned and checked the pillow. “Smells alright,” he said, his boots hanging off the end of the bed.

“Well, at least it’s clean,” Dahlia said, making the best of it. “Let’s see what Cerise and Beckett’s room looks like.” But before they could leave, there was a knock on the door. It was Beckett and Cerise, who came inside.

“Our room’s a cracker box,” Beckett said.

“It’s nice, though. Cozy…” Cerise said.

Beckett snorted, then hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “If by ‘cozy’ you mean ‘teeny tiny’, well that’s fine, darlin’. If you like it, I love it.”

“We should go to the Presidential Suite,” Dahlia said.

“Let’s check it out,” Beckett said, opening the door.

But Mac was standing there, and he had someone with him who Dahlia had never seen before. A human? The guy was a foot shorter than Mac’s 6’3’’, with salt and pepper hair. He was dressed in a maintenance uniform and had snow on his shoulders and in his hair.

Mac looked past Beckett saying, “Ah, Cerise, could we get a little help?”

“Uh, sure?”

“This is Chet, he works maintenance here, and apparently they have a building across the way in the woods, and well, he says he saw some wolves out there.” Mac rolled his eyes and tilted his head.

“Uh…okay, I see.” Cerise said.

“We told him you could explain to him what he really saw—foxes, right?”

Mac was nodding while he spoke, with his eyebrows raised, his intense gaze on Cerise almost comical as he tried to signal to her what he wanted her to do. Dahlia hid her face, trying not to laugh. Cerise’s power was mind control, and she’d had to fix this kind of thing before.

“Sure, I can do that,” Cerise said. “Hi.”

“What are you, a scientist or something?” Chet asked.

“Wildlife biologist,” she said smoothly. “What exactly did you see?”

Chet spoke excitedly, pointing at the forest. Cerise listened, nodding along, until she’d heard the whole story. She was silent for a moment and then she moved closer to Chet and spoke firmly.

“What you saw were definitely foxes.”

Chet shook his head and frowned. “But—”

“My colleagues and I recently completed a study of those woods,” she continued, cutting him off, “and we catalogued several foxes that were abnormal in size but were, in fact, foxes. We’re now working on getting grant funding to study what makes them so large. It’s really exciting stuff.”

Dahlia watched Chet’s face as Cerise spoke, and she could see the exact moment when Cerise ‘pushed’ him, as she called it. His frown relaxed and he looked thoughtful, then calm and full of trust.

“Huh… I’ve never seen a black fox,” he said, tapping a finger on his chin, one eyebrow raised. “Or a white one with boots.”

While Cerise continued talking in soothing tones, Dahlia pulled out her phone and googled ‘black fox’ to see if there actually was such a thing. She found pictures of black foxes and discovered they were black because they had melanistic coats, but they were called silver foxes, because of their silver undercoat. There were also white foxes, of course, but they lived in the arctic. Hopefully Chet didn’t know that.

“Oh, I see,” Chet was saying. “Fascinating. They live in these woods, you say?”

“They do.” Cerise nodded with a smile.

“Problem solved,” Mac said, clapping once, then rubbing his hands together. He opened the door then not-so-gently shoved Chet toward it.

Perfect, Dahlia thought. She took one last look at the image of the silver fox, and then imagined it, projecting an illusion across the parking lot.

Chet saw it and yelled as he pointed. “Whoo, there’s one!” He ran out the door.

Mac stepped outside, then turned back to Cerise. “Thanks.” He looked at Dahlia. “Nice one,” and then he pulled the door shut behind him.

Cerise grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up. They ran to the door and opened it. Chet had stopped on the far side of the parking lot and was looking every which way. The fox had only lasted a moment and he wouldn’t see it again.

“Now we can go,” Beckett said from behind them.

Beckett seemed to know where he was going, so the rest of them followed him. He took them past the front office, to the next door, and then he went inside, bringing them to the end of a long hallway.

“Mmm,” Beckett growled. “I smell steak.”

“Me too,” Crew said.

Suddenly the males were speed walking. Dahlia and Cerise had to jog to keep up.

“Dinner’s at 7,” Crew said reading the sign on the closed restaurant doors. “And there’s a dance floor in there.”

Dahlia and Cerise cupped their hands to the glass but couldn’t see inside.

Beckett wandered across the hallway, where there was a large, open room, with comfortable chairs placed around an oversized river rock fireplace. Beckett picked a chair and sat down, looking like he might stay a while. Cerise followed, sat on his lap, and within the space of zero point two seconds, they were making out like teenagers under the bleachers.

“Oh no you don’t,” Dahlia said, grabbing Cerise’s arm and tugging on it. “You can make out in Ella’s room.” She pointed to herself and Crew. “That’s what we’re going to do.”

Cerise laughed and Dahlia pulled her far away from Beckett.

“Come on, Beckett, where is it?”

“Okay, okay.”

Beckett got to his feet and they were on their way down another hallway, to an exit door, and outside. A short path just outside the door led them to what looked like a two-story house. A sign in front said, “Presidential Suite.”

“This is a room?” Dahlia asked.

Crew nodded. “The whole house is the suite, but it’s not as big as it looks. The entire upstairs is a movie theater that seats fifteen people.”

They knocked but no one answered. Beckett laid on the doorbell, but still no one came to the door. Dahlia got her phone out and texted Ella and within a minute, Ella opened the door.

“Come in, come in.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Look around. I gotta get back up there before they pick out the movie without me.” She started up the steps.

The opening sounds of orchestra music started playing, loud.

“Too late,” Dahlia said.

Ella hustled back up the stairs, one hand under her belly.

“Guess we’re staying,” Beckett said.

They took off their snow clothes then made their way up the stairs into an open room full of leather seats and round tables with a serve-yourself concession stand along one wall, with popcorn, candy, and sodas. A full-sized movie screen covered an entire wall. Mac and Bruin were in the seats closest to the screen, with soup bowls in front of them, and a massive container of popcorn between them, both of them eating fistfuls of it. Near them on the floor was the stockpot full of stew. Trent and Troy lounged in the aisle. Ella was in Trevor’s lap at a corner table, feeding him popcorn a piece at a time.

On the screen, a muscle car zoomed down a road with a woman in labor screaming in the back seat, and the man driving asking her how fast she thought they were going.

“Talladega Nights,” Cerise whispered. “This is hilarious.”

Crew grabbed Dahlia’s hand. “Have you seen it?”

“No.”

“It’s funny—you’ll like it. Where do you want to sit?”

They grabbed snacks and chose their seats. Dahlia sighed happily and kicked her shoes off, folding her feet under her in the comfortable leather chair and eating a little popcorn.

This was going to be a treat.