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  My head was swimming. I must have been drunk because I swore I could hear Caleb’s voice right there in the bar.

  “No way! Is that Haust?” Zan said suddenly.

  I looked up, scanning the crowd for my lost love, but I didn’t see him. Zan turned my attention towards the television.

  Someone had switched the channel from our regular football coverage to the local news channel. Something big was happening, that much I knew. A few rowdy shifters had been causing trouble for humans and our own kind alike, but that wasn’t to say the humans were completely innocent either. In my time out on the ranch, I’ve seen more than a few hunters stalking the Thunderstone pack grounds, hoping for a new kind of kill. But nobody ever talked about that, did they?

  The camera panned back, and there he was, the one I loved, still as beautiful as ever--and he was talking about putting us all on a government register.

  I could not believe it. My entire body froze in shock. I got dizzy again. All around me, the crowd erupted in angry protest. Zan swore at the television. D’Marcus and his friends gathered around the TV, each of them shouting obscenities at the image of Caleb. Others rose quickly from their seats, and the sound of their chairs dragging against the wooden floor was like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Who does he think he is?” someone demanded from the other side of the bar.

  “He’s trying to get us all killed!”

  “Suck up!”

  “Traitor!”

  Someone threw a glass bottle that shattered against the wall. The entire bar filled with shouts and crashes while June, the poor bartender and Johnny, the busboy tried in vain to keep them from wrecking the place. Zan and I got up, joining the fray at the sidelines.

  I knew what this news was doing to them. We shifters had lived in fear of outsiders for far too long. We kept ourselves hidden in the shadows of society just so we wouldn’t have to put our lives at risk. Just as we were starting to get somewhere, started to achieve something almost resembling peace with the humans that so vastly outnumbered us, Caleb and that Appleton guy wanted to treat their own kind like we were the dangerous ones.

  Inside me, I felt the fire burning brighter than it ever had before, turning the heat of my emotions into an all-consuming, raging fire. The pain I felt at having lost Caleb intensified; he hadn’t just left me, he left all of us. He betrayed every single shifter in the nation and left us in the dust, and for what? For the approval of humans who hated us?

  I knocked back the rest of my beer and got in closer. Zan and I didn’t join in on the shouting. I was so angry I was calm. Still, the crowd’s turbulent passion was infectious. We weren’t rioting yet, but I had a feeling that soon we would be.

  Of course, D’Marcus wasn’t about to have any of that. He slammed his hands down hard on a nearby table, calling for everyone’s attention before he leapt up on it. “Hey! Everybody listen up right now!”

  Everyone fell dead silent. D’Marcus turned to me, his dark eyes watching me carefully. He was about to do something, and how I handled it would be important.

  “We are not going to take this lying down!” he said, his voice stern.

  I moved closer towards his table. It was clear that he was having some trouble balancing. He was probably tipsy, after all.

  Or maybe he was scared. My cousin, the alpha, was scared? D’Marcus was fearless; he had never let any sort of weakness like that show, even when we were kids. If he was scared, then I was terrified.

  But he went on. “Haust and Appleton think that by turning their backs on us, humans will respect them. They don’t even realize that betrayal of the pack is unforgivable.”

  A few fellow shifters murmured in agreement.

  “It all starts with a registry--and then what? A curfew? Laws about where we can or can’t go? Laws about who we can or can’t talk to? It would be damned foolish to think this bill is gonna stop with a government list. No, this is just the beginning. They’re not gonna stop till we’re all dead.” D’Marcus clenched his jaw. I could tell he was breathing hard. He paused, assessing everyone’s reactions.

  Every single pair of eyes in the bar were on him. Every face was practically hypnotized by his words.

  “I say, we go and make our voices heard tomorrow! All of us! We’re gonna let that traitor Caleb Haust know the mistake he made in crossing his own kind!” D’Marcus commanded.

  I was the first to break the heavy silence. I clapped, cheered, and made sure to make my approval known. Zan did the same. Soon, everyone in the Snared Hare--even the bartender--exploded with agreement.

  D’Marcus looked back at me again. There was a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

  3

  Caleb

  By some miracle, I awoke the next day feeling better about knowing that I likely pissed off shifter packs across the entire nation. That kind of thing was easier to forget about when I was surrounded by so many smiling faces after the bill was finally proposed. I must have shaken about a hundred people’s hands just this morning, and posed for more photos than I could count. Everywhere Sarein and I went after leaving the Hill, we were met with supporters who told us how much they appreciated our work. These people, I wondered as I rode with Andy, my driver, were they finally starting to accept me?

  It was a nice feeling, being accepted by someone. I was glad that the humans were coming round to it, but I knew there was no way in hell my old pack would ever accept me again.

  Unfortunately, it seemed that a traffic jam was going to make us late for my next engagement. A few minutes later, I realized to my dismay that is wasn’t a traffic jam at all. A group of protestors were blocking the road. A large group.

  Great. We were stuck here until they would let us pass, and judging from the looks on their faces, I knew that wouldn’t be soon.

  I sighed and slumped back in the seat, wishing I was anywhere else but here. As a politician, I wasn’t unfamiliar with protestors, but these angry, road-blocking mobs were new to me. Not unexpected, given my speech yesterday, but new. Andy muttered something apologetically when he realized we weren’t going to move again anytime soon. Because I was stuck, I could do nothing else but go through my emails on my phone, apologizing for my absence at important meetings that had been scheduled weeks ago. I called my assistant and told him to move whatever he could around for another day. Luckily, a new email informed me that a reporter I was supposed to meet later that afternoon was stuck on this very same road with us.

  I convinced Bill to let me out of the car, and the very second the door opened, I was nearly overwhelmed by the sounds of the crowd and the heat of the day. I could practically feel the outrage coming off the protestors like a crashing wave. Just as I was about to retreat back into the safety of the car, someone recognized me, and within moments, several protestors started shouting obscenities, all sorts of vile names, and threats I could not believe I was hearing. Instead of returning their rage, I quietly reminded myself of why I had separated myself from them. Couldn’t these shifters see that this kind of atrocious behavior only made us all look worse in the eyes of humans?

  From a nearby car, Jason Matheson hurried out as soon as he saw me. I had been anxious to meet with him all week. He was a top reporter for the biggest independent newspaper in the state, and I knew I had to make a good impression. Matheson came over with two of his own guards, greeting me with a perfect, pearly white smile and a cautious handshake, as though he was trying to touch me as little as possible. “Sorry about my guards. I figured it would be wise if we didn’t take any chances with our safety, especially considering the outrage there’s been online since your speech yesterday.” Our combined security personnel stood around us, ready to keep things from getting any uglier. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I agreed, glad that most of the few cameramen on the road were too far away, and had their attentions turned towards the protestors at the front, and not where we were standing.

  “I don’t think we’ll have
a lot of time out here, so let’s get right into the meat of things.” Matheson pulled out a small tape recorder from the pocket of his blazer and held it up to me. “Your bill has caused quite a stir, Mr. Haust. Tell me, were you at all expecting this kind of reaction?”

  “Yes, actually,” I replied, trying my best to keep my voice audible among all the noise. “As I’m sure most of the public already knows, my associate and partner Mr. Sarein Appleton and I are ourselves shifters, and while we do not wish to generalize, there is no denying that the lupine culture we came from can often be…. A bit aggressive. That’s just our nature. If something happens that we perceive to be a threat, we are hard-wired to try and defend ourselves.”

  “Do you find that humans are any different in that way?” he asked.

  I fumbled. I wasn’t prepared for such a question. “Well… I think everyone wants to live their lives in peace. However, some of us may be a bit more demanding in trying to achieve that,” I said.

  Matheson nodded. “You’ve managed to rally a large number of humans for your cause, but do you have very many shifter supporters?”

  I chuckled. “Yes, though most shifters who support us are also without a pack. Independents, you might say. Some even live among humans in cities.”

  I noticed Matheson’s eyes widening ever so slightly. “Is that true?”

  Crap. I should not have said that last part. While many humans had no problem with shifters existing, a lot of them were still a bit uncomfortable at the thought of coexisting with us. “We’re a minority within a minority,” I clarified.

  “Right.” Matheson took a brief look back at the crowd. A few people among them called out Matheson’s name, demanding to be heard too. But Matheson was there for me. “So, tell us a bit about yourself, Mr. Haust. I mean, you’ve been away from your home pack for quite a long time now. What caused you to make such a drastic life change?”

  I paused, thinking back to my younger years. “To tell you the truth, I have always been a bit of a do-gooder of sorts. Since I was very young, I’ve had this urge to help others in whatever way I could. When I left my pack behind, it was really only because I felt like I could do a lot more out here than I could have in there.”

  It felt strange saying that out aloud. The young shifter I was back then, sneaking away from the pack and all my friends in the dead of night with nothing but my ambition driving me out into an unfamiliar world; that felt like a completely different person than who I was now.

  “And how did the idea of a government registry for shifters come about?” Matheson asked.

  “If you look at the news these days, it’s pretty clear that humans and shifters have a long way to go before we can live peacefully, side by side. After all, it’s only been a little over fifty years since our kind came out of the shadows, and in that short time, we’ve already caused more than our fair share of trouble. Something has to be done if we ever want to actually get there. Shifters need to be held accountable, because we live under the rule of law in this country just like everyone else, but it can be tricky because we aren’t always the most rational and understanding when it comes to change, especially in our wolf forms. In order to keep everyone safe, we need to keep an eye on those who may cause trouble.” Hearing my words must have agitated the protestors further, because it was getting harder and harder to keep my voice audible over them. “It’s just logical to do this, because there are fewer shifters than humans--”

  Matheson said he could no longer hear me. He motioned towards my car. It would be quieter inside, and we could finish this interview in relative peace. Right as I was about to follow him, a large rock came hurling through the air. If I hadn’t ducked just in time, I would have gotten my skull bashed in.

  Bill rushed over to me, and Matheson asked if I was okay. Shaking, I nodded and tried to steady myself. I could not let myself get angry in front of these people and risk letting my emotions run wild. I took a deep breath and scanned the crowd in search of the person who attacked me, hoping to point them out to security, but instead I saw…

  No way.

  It couldn’t be.

  Here?

  It was him. Lucien Northrup’s blue eyes met mine and for just a moment, our gazes held. There he was, Lucien. My old best friend. The one whose love still ruled my heart even after so many years.

  Without thinking, I ran in his direction. Bill and even Matheson’s two guards tried to call me back. My guard got hold of my suit jacket, but I moved fast, slipping past them and towards my first love.

  Lucien suddenly looked at me with hatred and rage burning within those beautiful blue eyes. I stopped just feet away from the crowd’s vicious reach, realizing that it was too late for us. Our love was a thing of the past. Lucien must have heard about the bill, about what I’d done.

  Lucien despised me now.

  4

  Lucien

  In the heat of the moment, the passion and righteous fury of the crowd pumping me with adrenaline, I almost missed him. It wasn’t until he was running towards us that I saw it was really him. Caleb Haust, the traitor I once loved--that I still couldn’t help but love, despite my better judgement.

  I couldn’t let it show, but my heart ached at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as he had ever been--no, that was wrong. Time had matured him, changed him into something more than what he used to be. He was no longer the teenager I knew. He was now a full-bodied man. Even panic-stricken and frantic after narrowly missing a rock thrown at his head, Caleb Haust looked like a dream. My dream.

  I dropped my picket sign in shock. I wanted to run to him, hold him, kiss him. But the crowd was faster than both of us.

  They rushed towards him, angry shifters and sympathetic humans alike. Caleb put his hands up defensively and stumbled back in fear. Seeing the protestors in action again snapped me back to my senses and reminded me of why I was here.

  I was here because I had to stop Caleb from getting us all killed.

  Shoving my way past the crowd, I reached Caleb before they could tear him apart, and instead of holding him, I leaned in towards him, a fierce snarl on face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Haust?” I demanded.

  His mouth hung open at my outburst, but then he showed his own fury. “I’m trying to do what your no-good cousin apparently can’t! I’m gonna make sure you all act like civilized people for once!”

  Heat flared throughout my veins. “Don’t you dare talk about D’Marcus like that. He’s twice the man you’ll ever be. He’s not the one throwing his own kind under the bus just to cozy up to a bunch of humans.”

  Caleb growled, and I swore just a tiny bit of his true shifter nature came up to the surface, refusing to be buried beneath his shame of his inner wolf. “Oh, he’s doing such a great job, huh?” He got close, so close. Our lips were only mere centimeters apart. “Doing a great job letting all these wild animals run around and kill anyone, and doing a great job of turning a blind eye to it all. D’Marcus doesn’t give a shit what that kind of attitude does to shifters--and neither do you!”

  It took everything I had, every last bit of restraint and self-discipline to not grab Caleb then. “And you do, Caleb? You care? After you left me?”

  His eyes widened. His lower lip twitched. They always drove me crazy, those lips.

  Others attempted to join in on our screaming match, but I held them back at arm’s length. Caleb tried to step away, but I just got closer.

  “You think these humans are gonna respect you now just because you got yourself a fancy job up on the Hill? You think you’re any different from the rest of us just because you know how to suck up to them?” I asked, my voice far calmer than I felt. “You think they’re not gonna end up using your little list against us--against you? After all this time, Caleb, are you really still so naive?”

  Caleb took in a shuddering breath, the kind of breath I remembered him taking, warm against my skin, the night we last saw each other, right before the kiss. Within my heart surged a
violent storm of emotions, some of which I never thought could exist within me all at the same time. But now, as I looked at Caleb, I could only express a bitter resentment for what I had lost.

  After so many years of longing for his return, the mere presence of Caleb Haust filled me with disgust. It was clear that he was well aware of the damage he was causing--but he just did not care. He wasn’t concerned about me or the pack or any other shifter in this country. He was different now, no longer my childhood best friend whose absence kept me awake so many sleepless nights.

  D’Marcus and I called off the protest. Slowly, the crowd dispersed. We left Caleb standing alone in the middle of the street. If we couldn’t reason with him and get him back on our side, then we had no choice but to work against him.

  But first, I needed a drink.

  5

  Caleb

  I wanted to think I was fine, but I’d be lying. But once Lucien was gone, I felt the crushing weight of missing him all over again. Even though I was still upset about our argument, I doubted my ability to withstand his absence again.

  The adrenaline that spiked my blood from being rushed by that crowd faded quickly. I stood alone, feeling small, vulnerable, and raw.

  The same way I felt moments before our midnight kiss fifteen years ago.

  Shit. Would I ever forget that?

  I was about to turn back to the car, but I noticed that Lucien dropped something. I guess it must have fallen out of his pocket during our little spat. It was a key, and it looked like it belonged to a local hotel not too far from here. He was probably still close.

  As angry as I’d been, and no matter how he felt about me now, I did not hate Lucien, and I wanted him to know that. So, I got back in my car and told Andy about yet another change of plans. He shrugged, just happy to finally get moving again.