Clayton offers to stay until the cops finish snooping around outside so I make coffee.

"Thanks. For showing up when you did, I mean," I say, placing a steaming mug in front of him. It has a cartoon bird with the words "F*ck nuance" printed on it. Obviously it was a gift from Lark.

Clayton cradles the mug in his hands and my gaze lingers a beat too long on his strong grip. Catching myself, I turn back around to get my own cup.

"You left the party so suddenly. I wanted to see if everything was okay," he says with what sounds like genuine concern.

The fact that he was watching me and he's willing to freely admit it takes me off guard, but I try to brush it off. "Those type of events aren't my sort of thing," I say as I take a seat across from him at the kitchen table before adding, "but at least I'm glad it was you since I thought I could feel someone following me."

"Really? Well, that's actually a good sign," he says, taking a small sip to test the temperature of his coffee.

I watch him lower the still too hot beverage. "A sign? Of what?"

He uses the tip of his tongue to lick a drop of brown liquid off his top lip. "That you're already becoming more in touch with your wolf," he says with an unmistakeable air of pride.

I scoff. "Don't be ridiculous. I've barely been here a week and we've spoken a handful of times, and you think that's already giving me a heightened intuition after I've neglected it for over twenty years?"

Clayton pushes his mug aside and interlaces his fingers on the tabletop before leaning forward. "Listen, Barlow. There are a lot of things here that you have no idea about."

He's taken on a distinct professorial attitude I detest, so I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. "Care to fill me in, then?"

He smiles at my antagonism. "How about you answer a few of my questions first and then I'll answer yours."

I'm not exactly loving this tit-for-tat deal, but I'm looking for information and if this is the easiest way to get it, then so be it. Uncrossing my arms, I sit up straight and look him in the eyes.

"All right. What do you want to know?" I ask.

He doesn't even need to think about his first question. "Did you hurt that missing student?" Clayton asks.

I lean forward so fast that the legs of my chair scrape against the floor. "What? How can you ask me that?"

"How can I not? The police apparently have evidence that you spoke to her that night, but you originally denied it. If that doesn't make you look guilty . . .."

He's borderline accusing me of . . . what? At best assault. Maybe kidnapping. And at worst, murder?

I stand and walk to the sink where the window above looks out onto the unfenced back yard and the forest beyond. Two flashlights are still scouring the area. "You were with me, remember? It was a full moon and we ran and even hunted together," I say.

He turns in his chair to face me. "So you remember more of what happened that night? You were pretty fuzzy about things the next morning."

"Erm, not really." I scratch my forehead before self-consciously tucking a lock of my silver hair behind my ear. "But based on what you told me and the blood I had to wash off, I'm assuming that's what happened. Isn't it?"

"We were together most of the night, that's true. But you had only found me after you'd turned. I don't know how long you'd been roaming around and what you may have done before then."

"Surely if there was a large werewolf traipsing through the neighborhood, there would have been sightings."

"Not if the only witness was a young woman out alone, walking back from having dropped off her car in the parking lot across campus. And who is now nowhere to be found."

I gasp. He's right.

My hands begin to shake so I hold them in front of me. "So you think I could have done it?"

But Clayton shakes his head. "No, I don't. Given your history of restraint, I don't think you would have started off with a human prey," he says to my relief. But unfortunately, he's not done. "However, it doesn't matter what I think. The DA will charge you if there's any evidence and if the police really do have that doorbell camera footage—"

"Then I'm screwed," I say, flopping back into the chair at the table. "I don't have the money for a good lawyer so I'll be tied up with this mess for the next year even if I can beat the accusations. And if it turns out that I am somehow involved—"

"I won't let it get to that," Clayton says, also returning to his seat. Reaching across the table, he puts his hand on mine. His touch is warm and comforting. "Not if you'll let me."

I'm grateful for his support, but I can feel that it will come at a price. These types of things always do. After all, the first thing we were taught in our undergraduate economics class is that there's no such thing as a free lunch.

"What do you want for me in return?" I ask, not having the energy to beat around the bush.

"It's not what I want, but rather what I need from you, Barlow," he says, pulling his hand away. "So I guess this is where I now answer your questions."

My breath catches. "Go on."

"You and I aren't the only wolves on this campus. And I'm not talking about the school's mascot," Clayton says. "Packard University has a long and complicated history, but in fact, currently it is under the control of two separate packs."

"Two packs?" I whisper, stunned at how I've seemed to gone from the proverbial famine to feast in this area in just a week. I had figured that Clayton likely wasn't alone, but I never would have guessed that there would be more than one pack here.

"That's right. I am part of the Allegheny pack, who are the rightful custodians of this land. However, in recent times we have shared leadership with members of a pack originally from further up north called Black River."

"You've formed an alliance, then?" I ask, suspecting based on his tone that this type of concession is highly unusual.

"Not quite. More like a reluctant truce," he says, confirming my feelings.

"Oh, really? How come?" I try to get more details, but Clayton shakes his head.

"It's complicated, especially with where you fit in," he says.

This is what I was worried about. "Where do I fit in?"

"Honestly, that's up to you," he says. "But if you want me to be able to do everything in my power to protect you, then you'd have to choose the Allegheny pack."

"Choose how?"

He wrinkles his brows in confusion. "By pledging your allegiance and becoming a member, of course."

This talk of allegiances is ridiculous. "And if I don't?"

"Then that would mean that you'd have to join the Black River pack."

"No, it doesn't," I say, shaking my head. I know nothing about these particular groups, much less normal pack life and now I'm just expected to join one. Yeah, right.

"Yes, it does. If you want to keep teaching at Packard, anyway. Otherwise you'd have to give up your position and leave," he says without an ounce of irony.

But I'm still not convinced this is all real. "Why?"

"There's no way either pack will allow a rogue wolf to live among us. It's just not how things work."

Great. So now I'm a rogue.

The thought makes me laugh. "I'm sorry, but this is all so absurd," I say while trying to ignore that my reaction is probably made worse by stress and denial.

Clayton's expression, which has been serious enough somehow turns even more sombre.

"Listen, Barlow. You told me that you were relieved that it was just me who followed you home, which means that you must have had a reason to suspect that it could have been someone else," he says, picking up his coffee mug again.

I recall to earlier in the evening. "Well, there were these weird men staring at me at the party. At the time I just figured they were the typical creepers—"

"They were Calhoun's men," he cuts me off. "I'm sure of it."

"Calhoun as in the university's president?" I ask. "What does he have to do with any of this?"

"Calhoun is Black River pack. Their Alpha, to be more precise. And he's obviously already set his sights on you, which means you'll have to pick fast or he'll run you out," he says.

This is all new territory for me—literally and figuratively—and frankly, it's just too much to take in. "And what if you're wrong? I mean, it's not the first time a woman would have felt uncomfortable in a social situation."

Clayton takes a big drink of his now cool coffee. "Did it seem like they were slowly circling you?"

I think for a second. "Now that you mention it . . .."

"They were keeping you in check. Typical pack behavior meant to intimidate a newcomer," he says. "Which is why you need to choose your pack. And I would hope that it would be Allegheny."

I bite my lip and look at him.

I know Clayton means well, but this has been information overload and I'm completely overwhelmed.

"I can't. I'm sorry," I say before a car door slams. A few seconds later, the red and blue lights that had been flashing through the living room window drive away.

A feeling of relief washes over me. "It looks like the police are done so I think you should leave, too," I tell Clayton and he doesn't argue.

It's only after he's gone that I realize that I didn't even get to confront him about the new car. But I guess now I have more important things to worry about.