The Most Explosive Novel Since Fifty Shades of Grey

by BY LENA   Jan 17, 2023

 In this thrilling and immensely popular werewolf romance, a young woman named Lily struggles with her irresistible Haze, an internal heat that attracts unmated wolves, during a high-profile dinner party. Her attraction to the handsome and mysterious Alpha of the East Coast Pack, Max Johnson, fuels her burning desire even more, resulting in a suspenseful encounter that leaves readers craving more.

Chapter 1

Everywhere I looked, I saw nothing but sex. Bodies writhing and moaning, calling out to me to join them. I tried to escape, but the forest around me seemed to come alive, with trees that looked like predators and lovers all at once. Something was chasing me, something inhuman.

As I ran, the sounds changed. The moans turned to screams, and the once-grotesque orgies became violent and bloody. I knew I was in danger, but the darkness was closing in too fast. I was about to be consumed by it all.

Then I fell. Down, down, into the gaping maw of a mouth with teeth as sharp as knives, waiting to swallow me whole. I tried to scream, but my voice was gone. I was lost in the madness, consumed by the sex and violence all around me.

I rubbed my eyes and stared at my drawing with confusion. How did I create such a strange and sexually explicit image? It could only mean one thing: the Haze was approaching.

Before I could ponder further, I heard giggling nearby and turned my attention toward a group of girls surrounding a guy I’d never seen before. His name was Max Johnson, I later learned.

For some reason, I was surprised to see him here. It’s not a usual spot for people like us to hang out. Maybe it’s because of the calmness of the riverbank, a place where our wild kind is expected to be anything but calm. Or perhaps it’s because this place is where I come to escape my pack, to be just Lily Chen, the nineteen-year-old artist with black hair who is seemingly normal.

The Alpha made his way toward the water, ignoring the girls following him. He looked like he wanted to be alone, which piqued my curiosity. I couldn’t resist the urge to draw him, even though it was a risky move.

I knew drawing the Alpha could get me in trouble, but I couldn’t help myself.

I began to sketch him. Max was towering at six feet five, his raven hair unkempt and his eyes a greenish-gold, their color changing every time he moved his head. Max was the epitome of attractiveness.

As I was drawing his eyes, he turned his head and sniffed the air.

I froze as I was mid-pen stroke. If he saw what I was drawing, he could become angry…

But he turned his attention back to the water, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even in the midst of a crowd, the Alpha looked alone. So I drew him alone.

I had watched him from a distance before, but now, up close, I could see how his biceps bulged underneath his shirt, and how his spine curved to accommodate his change.

I imagined how quickly he could shift. Bent over, eyes scanning like that of a wild animal, he seemed to be halfway there already.

Max was a man, yes. But more than that, he was a werewolf.

His good looks were a reminder that the Haze was near. It was the season when every werewolf aged sixteen and older becomes overwhelmed with desire, the time of year when everyone – without exception – engages in sexual activity with abandon.

Once or twice a year, this uncontrollable craving would affect all of us within the pack.

Those without partners would find temporary ones and engage in playful activities to their heart’s content.

In summary, no one in the pack over the age of sixteen was a virgin.

Watching Max at this moment, I wondered if the rumors about him were true.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was here, ignoring the girls and brooding by the riverbank.

Some claimed that Max had not been intimate with any women for several months and that he was keeping his distance from everyone. The reason for this sudden change in behavior was unclear. Some speculated that he may have found a mate, but the pack gossips would have surely uncovered her by now. Others wondered what would become of the Alpha if he remained single when the Haze arrived. However, I scolded myself for caring about Max’s personal life. After all, he was ten years my senior and only interested in women his own age. I knew that Max, the Alpha of the second-largest pack in the United States, was completely unaware of my existence. Despite my schoolgirl crush, I was better off keeping my distance. Meanwhile, my best friend Clara was determined to find me a partner for the Haze. She had already made arrangements, as was common for unmated wolves before the Haze.

Clara’s attempts to pair me off with three of her brother’s buddies, each one seemingly respectable and candid about their intentions to enjoy an intimate night with me, left her confused as to why I rejected all of them.

I could almost sense the frustration in Clara’s voice ringing in my ears.

“Why do you have to be so damn choosy?”

The fact of the matter was, I held a clandestine truth.

At nineteen, I remained the sole she-wolf in our pack who was yet to be deflowered. I had survived three mating seasons, but no matter how intense my lustful urges grew, I never surrendered to them.

Hard to believe, right? It’s quite unconventional for a wolf to be concerned about “emotions” or “first experiences”, but mine were precious to me.

It wasn’t that I was overly modest. In our society, such a concept didn’t exist. However, unlike many girls, I wouldn’t compromise until I found my soulmate.

I was determined to discover him.

I was preserving my purity for him.

Whoever he might turn out to be.

While I was engrossed in sketching the Alpha, I raised my eyes and found, to my astonishment and sudden fear, he had vanished.

“Pretty good.” I heard a deep voice next to me. “Though the eyes could use some improvement.”

I swiveled and saw, standing right beside me, gazing at my sketch…

Max.

F***ing. Johnson.

Before I had a chance to regain my composure, he lifted his gaze and our eyes locked. I stiffened, understanding the implications of this direct eye contact, and quickly averted my gaze.

No sane person dared to hold the Alpha’s gaze.

It could signify one of two scenarios: Either you were contesting the Alpha’s authority—an invitation to disaster. Or, you were signaling the Alpha your sexual interest.

Since I had no intention of doing either, the only alternative was to break eye contact before it was too late, and hope he didn’t misconstrue my fleeting gaze.

“Please excuse me,” I whispered, just to err on the side of caution. “You caught me off guard.”

“I’m sorry,” he responded. “I didn’t intend to shock you.”

His voice. Even uttering the most cordial phrases, they seemed fraught with threat. As if at any moment, he might tear your jugular apart with his bare human-form teeth.

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Honestly. I don’t bite…at least, not often.”

I was so near I could stretch out my hand and feel his taut muscles and bronzed skin. I raised my gaze and risked a quick glance.

A rugged, harsh face that paradoxically exuded beauty. Heavy eyebrows that felt rough to the touch, perhaps a hint of his lycanthropic form.

And a nose, albeit slightly askew—likely broken in a previous skirmish—that failed to detract from his painfully-attractive visage.

The Alpha edged closer as if to gauge my reaction. I could sense every follicle on my skin bristle in apprehension. Or…was it allure?

“Next time you sketch me,” Max suggested, “move closer.”

“Oh…okay,” I stuttered foolishly.

Then, just as abruptly as he had materialized, Max Johnson turned and retreated, leaving me solitary by the riverside. I exhaled, feeling every muscle in my body relax.

It wasn’t a common occurrence to encounter the Alpha outside of the Pack House, the hub for all pack-related activities. Mostly, we saw the Alpha at social events or formal occasions.

What had transpired here today was unusual.

I could already discern, from the envious stares of Max’s devoted admirers who had tracked him here, only to be overlooked, that this could rapidly escalate into a situation.

Even a hint of interaction with a female, especially a commoner like me, would be enough to send the most lustful females into a rampage, attempting to dismantle the Pack House’s walls just for a piece of him.

Such an event would undoubtedly distress the Alpha. And a distressed alpha implied a malfunctioning alpha, which in turn led to a dysfunctional pack…you can envision the rest.

Nobody wanted that.

I decided, with the dwindling daylight hours remaining, I would complete my sketch to declutter my thoughts. Just me and the tranquility of the river.

But all I could visualize were Max Johnson’s eyes.

And how inaccurately I had depicted them. The Alpha was correct. I could do better.

If I could only get…nearer. But when would I ever have such proximity again?

What I didn’t realize then but I understand now is that in a few hours, the Haze was set to commence.

That I was on the brink of transforming into a lust-driven creature. And that Max Johnson, the Alpha of the East Coast Pack, was going to play a significant role in my sexual enlightenment…

Enough to make a girl release a wolfish howl.

Chapter 2

Mom

Lily dear. Where are you?

 

Lily

Mom, how often do I have to remind you

 

Lily

There’s no need to begin texts with ‘dear’

 

Mom

But it adds a unique touch! Like a personal letter just for you.

 

Mom

Lily, please come home!

 

Mom

Your sister has arrived.

 

Mom

She brought Jack along.

 

Mom

You know what this implies…

 

Mom

JUICY GOSSIP.

 

Lily

…interesting?

 

Lily

I’ll be home soon

 

Mom

Fantastic. Love, Mom.

 

The Haze doesn’t give you the luxury of choosing its time or place of arrival.

Driving? Better stop swiftly or you might instigate a massive traffic accident.

Working? Punch out early and flee or you and your superior might end up in an awkward situation.

Sitting down for dinner, I hoped the Haze wouldn’t strike while I was with my family, which was, in my opinion, the most inconvenient setting.

As I assisted in laying out the table and served a dish of homemade lasagna to Sylvia, my gaze kept drifting towards the backdoor for an emergency exit strategy.

I joined the family for dinner, who were already engaged in a dynamic discussion.

“What’s bothering you, Jack?” my mom inquired, turning towards my sister’s mate. “You’ve hardly spoken since your arrival. How’s everything at work?”

“You’re not obligated to answer, counselor,” Sylvia interjected, casting a teasing glance at Mom.

“Well”—Jack chuckled—“if you’re asking for insider information, Tessa, you know I can’t spill those beans.”

“Can’t you even confirm or deny?”

“Mom,” Sylvia retorted. “He’s the Pack’s chief attorney. It’s his duty to safeguard their secrets.”

“But…” Mom sighed. “I don’t want anything substantial. Just minor chit-chat. Like…is it true that our Alpha and Jodie have parted ways and now she’s seeing his beta, Marvin?”

“Mom,” Sylvia and I echoed simultaneously.

Jack smirked. “I invoke my right to remain silent.”

“None of you are any fun at all.”

Despite being the mother, she often acted more juvenile than both her daughters combined. But we loved her all the more for it. Usually.

“You could inquire about my job, you know,” Sylvia suggested.

“I did, didn’t I?” she asked between bites of lasagna. “I’m positive I did.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. Mom had always wished for Sylvia to choose a more reliable career path. She considered fashion not a profession, but a pastime.

“One day, something’s trendy, the next it’s outdated,” she would remark. “That’s the reality with clothes and the entire industry, Sylvia! Think long-term.”

However, Sylvia had proven her wrong, demonstrating that Mom’s advice wasn’t always correct, and was now thriving at one of the top fashion design firms in the city.

But Sylvia had always shrugged off Mom’s criticisms. She was undeniably the more attractive, smarter, more accomplished version of me.

Whenever I voiced this thought aloud, which happened frequently, Sylvia would gently nudge me and reassure, “You’re still young, Li. Just give it time.”

However, when it came to my aspirations, to my future as the world’s greatest artist, patience had never been my virtue. I dreamt of opening my own gallery one day.

That day was not too far, I assured myself. Regardless of what Mom thought. Sylvia had demonstrated that she didn’t have all the answers.

“That’s okay, Mom,” Sylvia smoothly diverted the topic. “Gossip’s far more intriguing anyway. Speaking of which…”

Her gaze shifted subtly towards me. I pleaded with my eyes. Don’t.

“Any ideas who might be your mate for the season, Li?”

“Ooooh, yes,” Mom chimed in, rotating towards me. “What, or rather who, is on the agenda this year?”

“A she-wolf never spills her secrets,” I played it cool.

For a moment, it seemed like my family would drop the matter.

I had a knack for steering conversations, taking command, ensuring attention remained off me. Despite being the youngest, I always possessed that authoritative skill.

But Mom paused, realizing.

“Here she goes again,” Mom sighed, shaking her head. “Our little leader making us comply with her wishes. Come on, Li. Spill it. Is there a boy involved?”

“Some of us prefer to keep our personal lives private, Mom,” I responded.

Mom shrugged. “There’s nothing to hide. I know your father is eager for this year’s Haze, isn’t that right, dear?”

“I can hardly wait,” Dad chimed in, lifting his wine glass, a playful grin on his face.

“Guys. PLEASE. So disgusting.”

The open discussion about sex was distasteful, yes. But it wasn’t the primary reason for my unease. My mom had always been openly sexual. No, what I despised was the dishonesty.

When I claimed my virginity was my secret, I was serious. Even my mom wasn’t privy to this knowledge.

This was strange because we had always been frank with each other about everything. She never hid the truth from me.

Not about how she met Dad, a human. Not about their union resulting in their only child, Sylvia. And definitely not about how they found me.

I wasn’t their biological offspring.

I was found in a deserted pram outside the hospital where Mom was employed. But it didn’t matter, Mom always insisted.

I was about to steer the conversation away from the Haze to any other topic when it struck.

I froze. A gentle, rhythmic, molten heat kindled within me, making my body feel ablaze.

Breathing became laborious, sweat drenched my entire body, and before I could resist, my jeans tightened against my lower body.

A shiver of sudden, intolerable yearning coursed through me.

F***.

A sharp inhale escaped my lips before I could stop it, and as I fluttered open my eyes, which I hadn’t realized I had shut, I noted that the others in the dining room were having the same reaction as I was.

No, no, no.

Not here.

Not among family.

The way Sylvia gazed at Jack. How my mom rose from her seat, leaning into my dad.

I couldn’t handle it. I bolted from the room as quickly as my feet would allow.

The kitchen.

The hallway.

The front door.

And then into the chill of the night where I fell to my knees.

The Haze moved through my body like a poisonous serpent. My nipples stiffened and my stomach fluttered, filled with sexual yearning.

My throat felt blocked and I struggled to draw in air. Despite the cool breeze, my clothes clung to my body. I wanted them off.

I craved the touch of someone’s hands on my breasts, on my abdomen, on my sex…

Dear Lord. The Haze had never been this potent.

It was likely a build-up of every sexual need and frustration I’d suppressed over the previous three Seasons.

I should’ve anticipated this. Naturally, this was bound to happen. What had been going on in my mind? I hadn’t thought at all. And now I was suffering the consequences.

I glanced back at my house, typically a source of security and solace. But not at this moment. Definitely not. My parents were likely already taking advantage of the Haze.

The thought of Sylvia and Jack was only slightly better. But they behaved more like humans, less like wolves—observing boundaries, privacy, societal norms.

They would likely reach their downtown apartment before they finally succumbed to the urge.

I pushed them all from my mind and sprinted towards the path leading into the forest.

I passed oblivious humans, engrossed in their own affairs, and a few wolves who, like me, were in the initial stages of the Haze and trying to gain their bearings.

Easier for them. They weren’t virgins. They’d had plenty of sex during past seasons. Unlike me. I was completely hazed out.

At the forest’s edge, I stripped. I didn’t care if someone saw me. I needed to shift.

Right here.

Right now.

Usually, I had full control when I shifted, but not when the Haze was dominating. No. I couldn’t stay in this human form any longer.

I shut my eyes and experienced the joy of shifting.

Normally, I would feel every part of the transformation: the limbs extending, the muscles flexing, the body expanding tall, the red fur, matching my human hair, sprouting from my skin. Covering me entirely.

But not now. Now, I felt nothing but the Haze.

I breathed and my voice was a snarl. My fingers were now pitch-black claws. Through a wolf’s eyes, everything appeared more fierce, more intense.

Especially now. When the Haze was just beginning.

Now fully in my wolf form, I dashed deep into the forest.

The cool wind rustled my fur, the firm ground was damp under my paws, and the fragrances of the forest filled my nostrils.

Howls echoed in the forest. The unmated type. The type searching for a mate.

I inwardly cursed. In my Haze, I’d failed to consider the implications.

Entering the forest at the onset of the season was akin to pleading to be mated. These woods were like a raucous pub. All desire and foolish instincts.

Any moment now, a wolf was going to pick up my scent and realize I had no attachment. They would pursue me until I submitted. More than one, I was certain of it.

A contest, a test, to see who could claim the unpartnered she-wolf first.

Even if my body screamed otherwise, I wouldn’t submit so easily. These wolves could have as much sex as they desired. I wasn’t judging. But I was waiting.

Waiting for that moment, that instance, that sudden indescribable glance of recognition when two werewolves lock eyes and know they’re destined to be mates for life.

I yearned for that moment to come to me.

But out here in the woods at the onset of the Haze? It seemed improbable, to say the least.

I became acutely aware of the male wolves, their every motion, their scent.

I ran boldly, releasing pheromones into the air, enticing them closer. And soon, I knew they would have me trapped.

Five of them. All ravenous male wolves.

My body enjoyed it. Oh, it definitely did.

For a moment, I pondered if this would be the year.

Would I finally surrender? Would I give into these five males, taking them all at once? Would I finally lose my virginity, right here, right now in the midst of the forest?

As the Haze engulfed me and all my desires to wait for my mate began to fade away, I asked myself, what was holding me back? Honestly? I desired it.

 

Or did I?

I’ve never craved intimacy so intensely in my entire existence.

I wasn’t just smelling the quintet of wolves enclosing me at present. I had a visual of them.

A hefty, fair-haired wolf, a peculiar sight unless you knew his human form shared the same fair locks, moved around a tree, deliberately stalking in my direction. His size was impressive, but it didn’t necessarily mark him as dominant.

His eyes were radiant gold, a common trait among wolves. My icy blue gaze was the exception, both in my human and wolf form.

Judging by the approving glance from the blond wolf, he recognized my eye color as something special.

I could see the remaining four forming a ring around me, inducing a sense of claustrophobia. One got so near that I could sense his snout inspecting my aroused state from behind.

The pair to my right bared their teeth in unabashed desire, the one on my left was salivating, and the sizable blond wolf right in front of me assumed a crouching position, prepped for the leap.

A majority of werewolves prefer human form for their sexual engagements, but these five were under the Haze’s spell and wanted instant gratification.

I was on the brink of surrendering to this untamed, primal frenzy.

My body whimpered as the wolf behind me ran his tongue up my rear leg. I desired these males to sample me, to satisfy me with unabridged passion…until her face intruded my thoughts.

Stephanie’s face.

It was just a fleeting vision, yet sufficient. Much like a sudden splash of icy water dousing my entire body, I wrestled free of my Haze. It receded to a subdued warmth, nestled deep within me.

I had regained my control.

I unleashed a growl as loud as possible, establishing to these wolves that I wasn’t inclined towards their advances. But—typical of their gender—they detested obeying directives. They continued their salacious licking and advanced closer.

Fed up with their antics, I growled again. The type of growl that conveyed, “Dare touch me, and you’re going to lose that limb.”

The blond wolf confronting me got the message from my stern countenance. I wasn’t here to play games. He retreated. The trio of wolves flanking me grasped the situation a moment later and stepped back.

The lone wolf who appeared to struggle with interpreting—or rather sniffing out—my signals was the one trailing me. The one who’d gotten a full, invasive scent. He dared to edge forward once again.

Enough, I resolved.

Whirling around with remarkable speed, I plunged my pointed fangs into his nape. I bit down forcefully, drawing blood.

He let out a pitiful yelp, flailing in his attempt to retreat, but I held my grip. This wolf was set to comprehend his missteps today.

Only when I sensed the danger of severing his vital throat tissue did I release him. The wolf didn’t stick around for a showdown.

He now recognized the alpha here, immediately bolting from the scene. On inspecting my surroundings, the rest had already departed.

Content, I ventured deeper into the forest. The tangy odor of lust was discernible in the atmosphere.

My Haze started to stir again, and I persevered in my run, aiming to suppress it. I couldn’t afford to succumb. Not again.

Upon reaching the spot where I’d discarded my clothes earlier, I went through the transformation.

On this occasion, I experienced every torturous detail, the bones diminishing, the neck slimming down, the rear limbs elongating, the forelimbs bending and extending.

Then, the ordeal ended, and I reclaimed my human form.

I drew a breath, regaining my composure, standing there in my birth suit. Grateful to Stephanie for her intervention…despite the pain that memory entailed.

I had no intention of dwelling on that. Not at this moment. No, what truly mattered was my successful resistance.

My virginity was preserved. Reserved for the werewolf who I would identify as my mate. Even if the Haze was just commencing.

“God,” I panted, hastily donning my clothes.

Sylvia: All clear, sis.

Sylvia: Kind of surprised how brief it was tbh, from what I could catch.

Lily: Gross

Lily: Too much info

Sylvia: You’re such a prude. I’m grateful mom and dad still…

Lily: STOP. PLEASE.

Lily: You didn’t go back?

Sylvia: Departing now.

Sylvia: Did you find your partner tonight? 😉

Lily: Not your concern.

Sylvia: I’ve got this hunch you’re going to encounter your mate this season.

Sylvia: Consider it a female wolf’s intuition.

Lily: I doubt it.

Sylvia had this knack for foretelling what lay ahead. A sort of beastly extrasensory perception. But I failed to envision how this future could materialize.

Discovering my mate? I’d roamed all night and hadn’t encountered a single wolf who matched the profile. There was still opportunity, indeed. An entire season.

Upon reaching home, my parents had already satisfied their carnal desires for the night.

My father was settled in the living room, absorbed in the local news, while Mom was busy folding laundry.

“You hardly had a chance to eat, right?” Dad inquired.

“I’m good,” I replied, making my way to the stairs.

“She had her fair share, I reckon,” Mom quipped.

“Vulgar, Mom.”

Once again, I was wracked with a pang of guilt for not divulging the truth to my mother. Concerning my chastity. About everything. But I brushed it aside.

“Why did Sylvia and Jack make a hasty exit? They had just arrived.”

“An imperative gathering at the Pack House,” Mom shared. “Does make one wonder, doesn’t it?”

I found my thoughts drifting back to the Alpha, whom I’d encountered by the river’s edge. His eyes had been so dark, so brooding. What could possibly be happening that they required Jack, the pack’s legal advisor?

“I wonder, I wonder,” my mom mused, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Do you believe the rumors are accurate? About the Alpha’s romantic affairs? That could account for his aloof demeanor.”

“Mom. Cease prying into others’ affairs.”

“Oh, but it’s so entertaining. You should give it a try.”

Involving Max Johnson, I had to concede that the temptation to pry, to meddle, to uncover every detail was a wild ride for my imagination. Merely picturing him triggered the Haze once more. Flushing, I made my way upstairs.

“I’m off to sleep.”

“Have lovely dreams, sweetheart,” Mom chimed in. “Hope they’re particularly delightful…if you get my meaning.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a chuckle. However, when I secured the door, switched off the lights, and sank into my bed, all I could visualize was Max Johnson.

This was sheer torment. Drifting into sleep, I fervently wished I wouldn’t have to cross paths with the Alpha again.

 

Clara: OMG. Did you hear of…

Lily: Hear of what?

Lily: You can’t drop a message like that and leave it hanging!

Lily: CLARA.

Lily: HELLO???

Clara: Alpha’s extending invites to the pack house!

Lily: Seriously?!

Lily: But there’s no ball or anything…

Clara: It’s a raffle!!!

Clara: Invites are already in the mail 💌

Lily: Ah, so like 5 clans get to attend, that’s it.

Clara: You never can tell…

I flipped over in bed, setting aside my phone. Clara was perpetually fixated on the latest buzz. However, her form of reportage was closer to gossip than actual news.

This? This was akin to the kind of article you don’t read, just skim as you enjoy your coffee and procrastinate on getting started with work or school.

Who was bothered about the Alpha extending random invitations to the Pack House?

Yes, it was unusual, but it was just a ploy for the leaders to exhibit their concern for all pack members.

Just politics, I concluded. That was all.

Nothing deserving of a text at the crack of dawn.

Great, I mused. Now I was wide awake and unlikely to drift back into sleep. Clara just had to mention the Alpha.

Max and the Haze— a terrible mix.

I roused myself and sauntered downstairs, surprised to see Sylvia, Jack, Mom, and Dad huddled around the kitchen table, their attention on something.

“What’s up?” I inquired, rubbing my eyes, still bleary-eyed.

“Oh, nothing much,” Sylvia replied. “Just having our jaws hit the floor for kicks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just come and see, airhead!”

I ambled over, glanced at the table’s center, and froze.

No way.

Impossible.

This had to be a joke.

It was an invitation to the Pack House.

“Why…why us?” I managed to utter.

“You understand how it works,” Sylvia responded. “It’s a draw. That, or… Jack fixed it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jack retorted, chuckling.

A far-fetched notion crossed my mind then. A whimsical suspicion that couldn’t possibly be accurate. But for a fleeting moment, felt so plausible it had to be.

What if, I pondered… What if Max Johnson manipulated the draw to cross paths with me again?

Come off it. Who was I fooling? The Alpha couldn’t possibly recall me, much less go to such extremes.

I was just a girl he’d spotted sketching him…wasn’t I?

Yet, when I peered at Jack, there was something inscrutable in his expression. Something shady. As if this pertained to me somehow.

But how?

I didn’t get the chance to overthink Jack’s expression as my mom seized Sylvia and me by our shoulders, brimming with anticipation.

“Can you believe it? A private audience with the Alpha!”

“Not quite private,” Jack interjected. “Several other families are attending as well.”

“Oh, what’s the difference! This is going to be such a blast. Who can predict how heated things might get,” she announced, waving the invitation as if to fan herself.

Blast? Was my entire family delusional? No, it wasn’t going to be a blast.

We had just commenced the Haze, and while my parents and sister had a partner to, ahem, engage with, I was partnerless.

A fact that would be unmistakable to every single unmated male werewolf within the radius of my scent.

I wasn’t opposed to intimacy. I was all for it, given I could find my mate. But the notion of finding him at the Pack House of all places? Please. A hazy virgin she-wolf has her limits.

I didn’t have information on the other families attending the soiree, but I knew of one person who would be there, unmated and very much on the hunt.

I swallowed hard. This was shaping up to be a calamity.

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