Chapter One
The rain pounded on the roof of the white center hall colonial, a strong, loud rhythm Drew Tao had come to associate with New Jersey in the early winter. Cold, windy, and gray without any snow to bring beauty to frigid air. But none of that mattered. Not when he could be indoors working. It could be one hundred degrees and sunny. When he was working, he hardly noticed. Finishing his task mattered more than anything else.
Drew stepped back to survey the entertainment unit he’d spent the last two days building for his client—a couple in their early twenties had commissioned his custom work for their sixty-inch flat-screen television. They would be happy with what he had created. He’d left ample space for every accessory they wanted and some places for the wife to display decorative touches. All oak, as they’d requested.
He smiled; finishing the piece was a good day’s work, and he took satisfaction in knowing the few useful skills he had in this human world could make others happy. His hands tingled. It was almost time for him to move on. Staying in one place for too long made his wolf-side twitchy. When things started to feel too much like home, he suddenly craved his pack.
And the spirits knew he’d never have that again.
The phone in his pocket vibrated, and he ignored it. Several clients were waiting to hear from him about whether or not he’d be able to work for them in the next couple of weeks. Since he needed to move on, the answer would have to be a resounding no. He could wait a few more hours to send his regrets.
It vibrated again, and he groaned. “Pushy client.” Maybe he’d dodged a proverbial bullet by deciding it was time to go.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the message. It wasn’t a number he recognized, but he never stored any names. What was the point? Anyone calling or texting constituted a temporary client who became a temporary acquaintance during his time with them. No one worth remembering—no possibility of friends or family.
He’s dying .
Drew forgot to breathe for a second.
Another message came through. Are you there?
Drew had to read the words several times before his brain made sense of what he saw. He exhaled loudly and walked to the window to look outside at the rain. Despite the improbability of anyone from his pack being able to get in touch with him after ten years away, he had no doubt the he in question was his father. No one else’s death—short of B’s—would matter enough to warrant reaching out to him.
Of course, it could just be a trick, meant to lure him home so the old man could finally kill him.
Are you there? Was he? Drew could do what he usually did when something brought up memories of home—he could ignore the message. Throw out this phone, get a new number. Move the fuck on.
Are you there, Drew? His phone vibrated again.
“Oh, what the hell?” Truth was, he couldn’t keep going on as he’d been doing. Sooner or later, he had to go home. He had to return to the Black Hills and the pack he’d been exiled from. If the Alpha was really dying, then he had to go back.
I’m here . He texted. Who is this?
The answer came less than a few seconds later. Who else would be texting you, boy?
He smiled. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he laughed aloud. Gee. The old Bear. Of course he’d be the one to reach out to him. Not part of the wolf pack, the were-Bear wouldn’t care in the least about the fact that his father had made it illegal for anyone to contact him. Gee lived by his own set of rules, and they were the only ones the Bear cared to follow.
Decided, he texted. I’ll be back tomorrow .
Ten years away from the Hills. Would they still feel like home? Would the trees smell the same? Would the woods speak to him?
Good .
Well, that remained to be seen. What was the worst thing that could happen? His father had already ripped out his soul when he sent him into
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