Over the next few day, I'm happy to fully throw myself into once again just teaching my classes. At least work briefly gets my mind off what went down between Calhoun and the police captain.

I even volunteer for my department head's request to do extra peer reviews. Reading other anthropologists' research papers before publication always comes at the worst time, pays absolutely nothing and gets minimal thanks, but I'll happily do it if it means that I'll spend less effort on overthinking my exceedingly complicated life.

But once again, it seems like fate has other plans when on Friday afternoon, I find another note waiting for me at home.

A rush of excitement runs through me at the prospect of getting another private message from Clayton, who I haven't even glimpsed from afar—much less talked to—since Tuesday night. I know that he should be aware of what I think happened at the lake, but I haven't yet found the right time and place to hold that conversation.

Between having Lark around, witnessing a potential criminal cover-up, and counting down the days to another full moon, I'm currently questioning my own ability to make good decisions. Especially after nearly kissing Clayton in the SUV.

Okay, so that might actually be the biggest reason I've been avoiding him. But that doesn't make my other reasons less valid. It's just that I could probably have told him about Calhoun's sneaky dealings a lot easier if I wasn't spending much of my other thoughts on those fleeting seconds where out lips almost touched.

But what I think is a note is just a flyer. The students in Jules' dorm are having a fundraiser to help her parents pay to expand the search for the missing girl. Reading between the lines, it's fairly obvious that the Woodhurst police department isn't doing enough to find her. And knowing what I saw at the lake, I can't say I'm surprised.

When I get inside, my phone pings and I'm ready to see another enthusiastic text from Lark about one more thing she's just learned about waitressing, but the message isn't from my sister. I'm about to delete the text from the unknown caller with a local area code when the word Duchess catches my eye. Opening the notification, I read the full contents:

TONIGHT 9pm. Duchess Hall. Robes required.

This can't be from anyone else, but the Allegheny pack.

I didn't expect my first formal invitation to one of their ceremonies to come via text message. Imagining Carlos or Clayton's assistant Patty managing a distribution list full of werewolves is pretty darn funny. If Clayton is doing the administrative stuff himself, then that's even funnier.

I look back at the message, but the recipients have all been blind copied so no one can respond in a way that everyone else would see. Too bad. What I wouldn't give for an Allegheny pack group chat!

At least this means that I'll likely get to see Clayton soon. Between the anticipation of that and the task of finding something quick and affordable for dinner that isn't pizza, the hours until I need to head out pass by in no time.

I see a few familiar faces from campus the closer I get to the building.

Selina and Kate, coaches with the women's crew team, are up on the path ahead of me, walking toward Duchess Hall. Tony, a sweet older man from the facilities department, and I get to the gap in the fence guarding its perimeter at the same time and he helps me avoid getting snagged in the cut chain links. And Galina is waiting just inside the entrance, handing me an extra robe and mask she's brought.

"Dry clean only, right?" I ask (only halfway joking) as I give my new pastry chef friend a hug.

She gives me a squeeze. "These aren't your usual academic gowns so I'm afraid it's strictly hand wash until we get a wolf-run cleaners on campus," she says with shrug.

I take a better look at the fabric. It's rich, black velvet with delicate maroon embroidery, definitely handmade and most likely vintage. The anthropologist in me wants to take it home and inspect it immediately to figure out its provenance and symbolism, but that'll have to wait.

"So that reminds me," I say, changing the subject as we walk inside. "You told me about the Wards' and Calhouns' ties to the university, but is it normal to have so many pack members associated with one organization like this?"

Galina leads me to the central staircase and we begin our descent.

"Actually, all," she says, but I'm confused.

"What?"

"You asked if it's normal to have so many of the same pack members belong to one place, but it's not just 'many.' It's all," she says. "As in all of the members of both Allegheny pack and the Black River are affiliated with Packard University."

"Wow," I mutter as we near the basement level. "Really?"

"Yeah," she says. "And it's not just us. It's fairly typical for like-minded wolves to find each other and establish their packs. You probably wouldn't even be surprised if I told you that some of the best known cohorts are actually werewolves."

I've never been one for gossip, but even I can't resist this juicy piece of information.

"Ooh, like who?" I ask as we near the subterranean room that Allegheny used for my recent initiation ritual.

Galina stops and uses her hands to count.

"So there's the Kansas City Chiefs, obviously," she says, ticking off with her index finger.

My eyes bug out at the thought of TSwift's boyfriend being one of us. "The football team?" I ask and she nods.

"Yeah. Then there's the whole cast of SNL—past and present—including everyone who regularly collaborates with Adam Sandler."

"Even Drew?"

"Even Drew," Galina says with confidence. "Plus you often find those in major law firms, among the world's richest people, and employed as high school gym teachers to be like us."

By now we've arrived at our destination and there are too many people here to continue the conversation. Instead, Galina introduces me to some of the others.

I assume at least some of these people were also here for my ceremony, but their masks had concealed their identities. That's not an issue now, so I finally get a look at their faces.

Tamar with the bright smile and designer purse is from the fundraising office, while Jawan from IT is wearing a notable mustache and strong cologne. There are also others from the history and math departments, payroll and landscaping, as well as the campus post office and housing unit.

Between the pleasantries, I also manage to find out before Clayton arrives the reason we're all here. Because as soon as he enters the room, everyone goes silent and quickly dresses. And after donning the hooded robes and masks, we form the usual circle.

Unlike my ceremony which one was a welcome, this one is meant to symbolically cut a member from the pack. Professor Reyes from the school of engineering is relocating to California to take a corporate job. After he's released from his oath of loyalty to the Allegheny pack, he'll be free to join another community of wolves closer to his new home.

The un-binding ritual is the same as the initiation, except the tap of the sword on the shoulder means that the pack approves the dissolution of membership. Since there are no objections, the whole process goes pretty fast and soon everyone is standing around maskless bidding farewell to the professor.

As Alpha, Clayton is in the middle of all the hubbub. Still, this is my chance to get his attention so I cross the room and wait outside of his perimeter.

"Can I help you?"

The question from Gemma Calhoun catches me off guard. She had been part of Clayton's circle of conversation, but now she's turned toward me. And if looks could kill, I'd be struck dead.

Having sworn after our first encounter to not let her get to me again, I straighten up and compose myself.

"I need to speak with Clayton," I say, "in private."

Gemma's ruby red lips pull into a forced smile and she crosses her arms. "I'm afraid that's not possible. As you can see, he's much too busy with pack matters along with his administrative and research duties to have time for . . . you."

I'm about to reply that what I have to talk to him about, in fact, does related to pack matters, but the way she tacks on the word 'you' gives me pause.

This woman is insufferable and I can't believe that a man like Clayton Ward would not only invite her into his pack, but also choose her as his mate. In spite of Galina insisting that the arrangement was transactional—on his part, at least—there's clearly more going on. Because I don't see Clayton betting the Allegheny pack's future on a loose cannon like Gemma.

I also wouldn't place any bets on where her allegiances truly lie. For all anyone knows, she's a mole planted by her father to get inside this pack and destroy it from within. And no matter how unhinged that may sound even to me as I'm thinking it, the fact that it's even a possibility can't be ignored.

So while I had initially considered pushing back against Gemma's gatekeeping, now it gives me the perfect opportunity to back away. Not telling Clayton that I saw President Calhoun and the police captain destroying evidence in a murder investigation may ultimately turn out to be a mistake, but it won't be as bad as potentially having Calhoun discover that I had been snooping. That's exactly what would happen if Gemma also found out and I'm not willing to take that risk.

Gemma has already turned back away from me and as I leave the room, no one even notices. I take the stairs to the ground level, but instead of exiting the building, I continue to the second floor.

There's a grayish-blue tint to the walls and remaining furniture here as the lights from outside shine through the dirty windows. Classrooms with unusually tall ceilings stand empty and the thick layer of dust crunches under my shoes. I remember that officially this place is classified as condemned, which helps to keep any unwanted visitors out. I hope that also means that the air isn't full of asbestos or that the floor could give away underneath me at any moment.

When I come to the end of the hallway, there's a broken directional sign pointing upstairs: Girls' Dormitory. Since these risers are significantly more damaged than the others, I hesitate to try my luck. But as I retrace my steps to the other stairwell, the pieces slowly fall into place.

Could this building be the former orphanage that was established at the request of Clayton's ancestor and also which forms the basis of Allegheny pack's claim to the university? That would certainly explain both his use of it for pack rituals, as well as why the derelict structure hasn't been torn down to make way for a more modern replacement.

A stabbing sensation suddenly shoots through my head and I bend over in pain. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take deep breaths as lights flash behind my closed eyelids.

"What the heck?" I mutter as I slowly straighten up. I've had headaches before, but never one that came on with such a sharp impact.

There's a faint giggle from behind me and I turn.

"Hello?" I ask into the darkness as burst of hot air wafts toward me. "Is someone there?"

I get no response, but that's probably a good thing. I'd probably jump out of a second story window if a disembodied voice decided to reply.

Hastening my steps, I continue toward the stairs, but the heat seems to follow. My shoes rhythmically thump as I descend and I can swear I also now hear music. It sounds like a piano medley playing on an old-timey gramophone with its imperfect crackles and occasional distortion, but whatever it is, the sound doesn't belong in in an abandoned building.

Convincing myself that it's residual noise coming from somewhere outside, I get to the stairs' landing before another sharp pain radiates through my skull. I grab at my head just as a voice whispers directly into my ear, "Turn."

With a scream, I collapse to the floor. My body writhes as the muscles swell and bones grow. Fearing that I cannot regain control, a sob escapes my lips, "No!"

The wish turns out to be a command and my transformation stops. The pain slowly subsides as my body regains its human shape and after a few moments, I can stand again. Whatever just happened to me is over. At this point, I want nothing more than to get out of this place, but no matter what it takes, I will figure out how I fit into all of this.

And I know just where to begin.