Property of the Pack Chapter One

As Bianca entered her home with the intention to fix dinner for herself, Kylarra’s call came. Bianca rushed to grab the phone before the last ring.

When she hung up, she stared at her clothes. The black slacks and figure flattering aqua long-sleeved blouse were her work clothes. While she’d spoken on the phone, she’d kicked her shoes though. She’d hoped to change into a more casual outfit, but for Kylarra she’d put it off for a few more minutes.

Kylarra said she could wait on the recipe, but now was as good as ever to find the recipe card and bring it to her. One less thing to worry over. Kylarra wanted to make a sweet potato cornbread. Holidays were coming up. It’d give her time to try it out before then. In Lycaen Ridge they were still old-fashioned. So rather than find the card and read Ky the recipe over the phone, Bianca would find it and bring it up there right away. Wasn’t too long of walk, wouldn’t take long.

Slipping her feet into a pair of loafers by the door, Bianca left the small hallway and entered her log cabin like kitchen with the pockmarked wooden walls and cupboards. The wall to her left was decorated with a mural wallpaper her grandmother put up long ago. It was yellowing, but still beautiful. There were small scenes of stone bridges, little cottage like homes with children playing, dogs running about. It lent the kitchen such a homey little atmosphere that Bianca couldn’t bring herself to take it down.

Often as a child she’d sit and simply take in each little mini scene. The apple trees were some of her favorite parts about the entire wall. She wandered past the wall and the dining table there on her left, then around the island on her right to the main part of the kitchen. Bianca went over to the corner cabinet next to the kitchen and opened the smaller door with the bronze circular knob, reached in, and pulled out the recipe cards. Rifling through them, she found what Kylarra asked for then went to the door, placing the notecard in her pocket.

Upon opening the door, she debated on whether to grab a coat or not. Kylarra lived at the end of town, whereas Bianca’s small home was near the center, but just out toward the woods. Her little piece of home lived on a partial acre that butted up to the woods. From her bedroom she had the advantage of keeping the curtains open on both sides of the room to allow the forest to greet her in the morning.

Since the holidays were close, there was a slight chill in the air. She’d walked home and ran through the house to get the phone so her adrenaline would keep her warm for most of the walk, but there was a chance she’d get chilly before she reached Ky’s. She didn’t really like wearing her coat though. Too cumbersome.

Finally deciding if she walked with a brisk pace, she’d be fine enough, she shut the door behind her and headed down the small walkway to the quiet street. No point in locking her door in this town because people didn’t tend to break into each other’s homes. She turned left at the end of the street, then once she hit the main street, she turned another left and picked up pace.

The Lycaen Ridge Lodge was still open, and a few patrons were having their dinner when she passed. Using the shadows of night to keep out of sight, she kept on. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the people in town, but by this time of night, she preferred to be alone. Working over at Lycaen Creek Bed and Breakfast all day long was pleasant enough, Gertrude didn’t get too bad until the holidays were around the corner, but by nightfall, Bianca liked the peace and quiet.

Night was when the Lycaen came out to play. And in her little corner of the town, things grew quiet thanks to that reason. On occasion she could hear the packs run through the woods not far from her home, but she was in an “uninteresting and boring” area as she’d heard Kelsey describe it. So didn’t get bothered.

Kelsey Carlisle.

The school’s most popular Lycaen . . . and with the men. A lot of the humans preferred the neighborhood around Bianca. The houses weren’t that close together, there was a fair amount of space, which was the best part about Lycaen Ridge, but there was a lot less interest for Lycaen around there. So the wolves avoided the area.

Which made it a very nice quiet little atmosphere. Far from prying eyes and ears, peaceful and serene. It was her favorite place on earth. She’d visited a city once. Most horrific and loud place she’d ever been. Only for Gertrude and business did Bianca stress herself in a city. She understood it fine, understood the people, but it was too much for the senses. If any Lycaen lived in a city, she didn’t get how they survived. It was bad enough for her.

And she was a boring ol’ human.

An owl hooted nearby drawing her back to reality. She’d walked most of the way without even realizing it. In the distance, she could see a glow in the woods. Faint, but soon it would be a great monument of gold.

Kylarra’s home.

Bianca smiled and picked up her pace. Wasn’t bad walking around here at night. She’d been doing it her whole life. Occasionally when some young teen wolves were so inspired, they tried to frighten her in the woods, growling or howling. She’d shake her head and whisper at those guys, “You’re not the first, won’t be the last. Doesn’t work.” And keep on moving. They didn’t scare her. They tried. It was nearly impossible for any wolf to frighten her.

While she was in school, she dealt with more than her fair share of harassment. All because of her human status. There were those like Kelsey who simply lived for it. Bianca became near immune. This was her town too. She grew up here, her family lived here for a long time, the others could stuff it.

Bianca tilted her head up to the sky and closed her eyes, letting instinct guide her. Far off in the woods came the sound. One wolf, then another, and still another joined in. Their nightly ritual. She smiled. A hint of solemnity in those howls. Howling at the moon. As if they were all alone in the world and would remain that way forever.

She loved the sound.

As the road rose up, she opened her eyes to keep from walking off the paved road and into the ditch. The entire house was lit up like a lighthouse guiding ships home from sea. A sight to behold. Large windows welcomed any visitors. Beautiful columns around the patio.

Bianca paused at the door. Then reached up and knocked.

Then waited.

Annnddd waited.

A large shadow loomed in front of the glass. The door opened and there stood Verrick Conrad. Seeing Verrick disturbed her. She’d hoped Ky would answer.

“What?” he asked, gruff as usual. Get down to business and get lost as far as he was concerned.

Bianca shifted from one foot to the other. They weren’t strangers. Still, Verrick rarely acted as if he knew her. No recognition in his eyes, even now. She had the same small features, same brilliant blue eyes as when they all grew up together. Just toned down the long blonde hair and left the natural brown and blonde highlights alone.

She took a deep breath. Removing the notecard from her pocket, she explained her presence, “Kylarra asked if I’d drop off my recipe for the sweet potato cornbread my mom used to make for Thanksgiving. . . .” Her words drifted into silence.

In the midst of her sentence, Verrick let the door go, and left. Not before muttering, “she’s reading while we play pool.”

“We?” she questioned as she entered and shut the door behind her.

Kylarra mentioned this week would be good to come by because Verrick’s pack wasn’t around and, “I’d rather you nowhere near them. Nothing personal, it’s them.”

Bianca assured her she understood, “I’ve seen the bikes, heard the engines. I’d rather avoid them too.” Why she thought immediately bringing the recipe over was best.

Verrick murmured something under his breath that sounded like, “friends.”

Bianca followed him around the corner and down the hall. As he disappeared into a doorway at the end of the hall to the left, Ky came into view when Bianca entered. But beyond that, what Verrick said registered just as Bianca stepped into the room.

“My pack.”

Verrick said his pack was here.
Uh oh.

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Property of the Pack is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, stories, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Kim Iverson

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