We sat in silence until the sun dipped below the boundary of the horizon. The shifting coolness within the air helped stave off the sudden drop of my head as my eyes threatened to close. Then, when a gust of wind blew the first specks of rain onto our faces, we abandoned the bluff and retreated inside.

I lay on the bed as Paul rested in the armchair by the double- doors. Shadows stole their place over his face, no longer illuminated by the moon. The breaking waves echoed and rolled into the house through an open window. The house had stayed the same since my arrival, with only fresh bedding and towels from home. What would Lucille think of us now? Me, being with Paul, in her house, and all his wild conversations?

"Are you a believer, Dana? Do you believe me that there's life after death?"

"I'm not sure. But you believe it?" I asked. My mind wandered to those god-fearing televangelists who would condone the idea, and then those reality medium shows where everyone gets to speak to their dead relatives—first time, every time. It was ludicrous.

"Yes," he said, with the simple confidence of someone who had accepted such things without further question. "Nature changes what we are but we never really leave."

"It's a nice thought." And I meant the notion, not the reality itself. To imagine a spirit world where the dead had a front-row seat to all your indiscretions was nothing short of mortifying. But it would be nice to think my parents were around in whatever capacity the laws of nature might let them. It would always be clear that entertaining ideas of the supernatural would always take work from me.

"Thunder and solar eclipses used to be considered supernatural. It's only a label until a scientist proves it with their biased rulebook. Once they do, it just becomes nature. What if there was a different rulebook?"

"What are you saying? The supernatural is nature's way?"

"Science, like math, is the human invention of imaginary numbers to explain everything. So how can they create a rulebook when they've never played the entire game?

Up until recently, you thought mind reading and Wattpad werewolves were an impossibility."

Paul was nearly impossible to understand, but he had me there. It was worse because his analogies made complete sense, and yet, everything still seemed like a smokescreen for something else. I had answers but the instinct Paul wanted me to tap into said I did not have them all.

My eyes bounced to the clock on the wall and then to Paul. "What else aren't you telling me?"

"I'm trying to put ideas to you without influence. This new knowledge must be learned on your terms."

My eyes rolled.

"Now that,"—he pointed at my face — "is the hurdle I'm up against. When you open your mind to all possibilities, this becomes so much easier. You need to prepare yourself for Lucille. Here, I'll show you another way."

Paul stood, cut across the room, joining me on the bed. He traced my freckles with a single finger down the stretch of my neck, gliding across my collarbone. His touch was painstakingly slow, but his wavering restraint as he bit his lip built tension with my heartbeat. The atmosphere became charged. There was a sense that something was about to happen.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft with no sharp edges. But I couldn't because his mouth drew me in, and I couldn't do that without thinking about what it would be like to kiss him again for the hundredth time. The wall that kept him out and the butterflies in was fast crumpling, and it annoyed me he could make that happen so quickly.

He smiled before I'd even finished the thought. For the first time, a kiss didn't take us by surprise. Planned, intentional, and with my lips wet and slightly parted, he leaned down and claimed my mouth in a soft lingering moment. I became lost. For the glorious minutes it lasted, I would have given him everything—believe anything he said.

He withdrew with a smile. "Can math explain that reaction?"

I swallowed. Paul's gaze dropped to my neck, catching the movement in my throat. I couldn't look away anymore. His eyes were like magnets, drawing me in closer and closer until the space between us was negligible. "No."

He shifted to my side. "The world is beautiful. The seen and the unseen. Nature rules everything here."

I fought to clear my mind. Paul muddied any thoughts. "And it destroys." I pictured the day I would need to leave Benton and what the impact on my heart might be. Benton had gotten under my skin, not just Paul, the house, and Jenny. Three months would never be enough.

Without my parents in my life, Carolyn quickly filled a void I would have collapsed without. This town challenged the idea of what home felt like in a way I never thought possible. I never realized before now that the heart of a home could lie in people. Just as Paul said it was for him.

"Sometimes, but not always. Don't fear the wrong things. You see a shark in the water, but the cow in the field presents the greater danger. Did you know that? There's beauty in destruction, too. If you avoid building a house for fear it might get knocked down, it misses the point a little."

I knew what he was saying. Why wouldn't I give us a chance and stay—whatever the consequences? Paul wasn't the shark but the cow in the field. Lucille was alive, and I would try harder to learn whatever I could to help her. But what then? Helping her meant the possibility that she would want her home back.

"How long has Lucille been this way?"

"About seven years. After that, she was declared dead."

Seven years was a long time to be lost in the forest, wandering aimlessly. Still, my gut said there was more. "What is an Alpha, Paul? I mean, I've read fictional stories, but what's actually real?"

"An Alpha, Dana..." he looked out into the distance, eyes clouded with thoughts before meeting mine. "An Alpha is what leads the pack. They are the strongest, the wisest, and the most respected. They are not only powerful fighters but also intelligent strategists and loving caretakers for those under their charge."

He paused, letting me absorb the information before continuing, "In stories, Alphas are often portrayed as aggressive and domineering creatures but in reality, they possess a calm strength and unwavering resolve. They're firm when needed yet gentle towards their pack."

I mulled over his explanation. "And Lucille was an Alpha?"

Paul nodded solemnly. "Yes. She is still respected by those who remember her in her human form. Those who don't see her only as an old wolf clinging to life, disconnected from her true self."

A profound sadness washed over me as I thought about Lucille losing herself, fading between worlds. "You've not had an Alpha for seven years?" I asked.

"Not true. When the break between shifting forms occurred Luke naturally ascended with no one left to challenge. And when he did, I became his Beta, second in command."

From what I saw of Luke the night before, he was by far removed from a loving caretaker to Carlyle.

Just as I opened my mouth to question him, Paul held up a hand. "There are things that Luke doesn't share with the rest of the pack. Things only we know," he said, a peculiar glint in his eye. "Luke is an Alpha in every sense of the word – stronger, wiser, and more respected than all others. Yet, he carries a weight only an Alpha knows...and a loneliness that comes with the territory."

Now this made sense to me. I had experienced their reaction to his command—his wolf's cry. Which begged the question of why I'd had the same reaction to Lucille before I crashed? Paul had yet to explain this. I did believe the things he had said, which left one deafening thought: I felt safe with Paul, but in all truth's absence was my age-old question of trust, and I was holding back from giving it to him. My good faith had been burned by those I had allowed in—Antoine—and I no longer wanted to be that girl.

Paul cleared his throat. An indicator that my thoughts had already traveled.

"However, there is one thing an Alpha needs that he cannot demand or take by force." He paused, looking into my eyes with an intensity that again left me breathless. "An Alpha needs a mate," he said, his voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

His words echoed in my ears, repeating themselves like a mantra. A mate. I blinked, my mind reeling at the implication of his words. "A mate?"

Paul nodded, maintaining the intensity of his gaze, his proximity making my heart race. "Yes, a mate. Someone to share the burden and joy of leading the pack, to be by his side in times of danger and solace. Luke doesn't have one. An Alpha isn't settled without one. So, cut him a little slack. It's different for wolves than for humans."

"How so?"

Paul took a deep breath, his jawline hardening as he clenched his teeth. "We're different. In the animal kingdom, it's all about dominance and hierarchy, but with humans..." He trailed off, almost as if he were struggling with the words. "With humans, it's about love. A mate unifies both physical states for us."

"How will he find his mate? Do you have like an app or something?" I smiled.

Paul chuckled and shook his head. "Scent."

Oh. My. God. Paul was now smirking and it had become at least ten degrees hotter.

"If Lucille was a wolf, does that mean my parents were wolves?"

"At least one of them, your father probably. But you don't seem to have inherited his afflictions." He grinned. "Maybe that's why your parents never stuck around?"

"Listen, I am open to what you're saying. One day in this town I'm questioning most things. But I feel there is more. What's holding you back from telling me everything now?"

"You," was all he said. "I need you to one hundred percent trust me. You don't. I hear the doubt that creeps into your head when you sleep. You echoed that sentiment again just now. Whose Antoine?"

"You shouldn't be listening!" That was one secret I was unwilling to part with. The regular intrusions were wearing on my thinning patience. "No one. What are you getting at anyway?" I deflected.

"Peach, your thoughts are louder than a ten-car pileup on the freeway, and I'm exhausted after last night because of it. I offered this once before, and I will do it again. I can teach you how to block me out—all of us, then maybe you'll trust me enough to allow me to share my truth. Sit." He pointed to the edge of the bed facing him. "Now, concentrate. Find the white noise in the room and focus on it. Any sound, something repetitive. Do you hear your refrigerator?"

I shook my head. "No, can you?"

"Try. I can hear you talking in your head. You've no focus or filter."

I stilled my mind and closed my eyes. Outside, the ocean waves thundered. The house creaked as a strong breeze battered it. The clock ticked on my bedside table. Underneath all of that was a distant whirring of a motor fan. I signaled it out.

"That's it," he encouraged. "Now amplify it." He wet his bottom lip, his actions obliterating my focus.

"You gotta do better than that." There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I was distracted!" Refocusing on the hum, I let my eyes close again. I no longer wanted my private thoughts on display. The playing field needed leveling, and I desperately wanted to trust Paul. I tried again and found the motor. I paid attention to the whirring until it became the only sound in the room.

"And again," he instructed.

"Why? I had it that time."

He looked at me, puzzled. "Because you can't walk around with your eyes closed."

I rubbed my face with my hands and shook off the tiredness.

Paul stood. "Now, this time, when you try, I want you to focus on the white noise but also be actively thinking. What's the biggest secret you have? Hit me with it but stop me from listening."

Paul would never understand my darkest secret, and I couldn't admit how foolish I'd been in Georgia. On reflection, the dangers of what I'd done now sounded all too obvious. I stared at him head-on, and with the memory fresh in my head, I allowed my thoughts to drift to my parents, the first time I had met Antoine and the final time I had seen him in the parking lot outside of the coffee house.

At the same time, with one stream of consciousness occupied, I focused on the sound of the sea outside with everything else I had.

He went quiet for a moment, and I knew from the tiny throb in my head that he was trying, looking for a hole, a weakness, an opportunity to read me.

He frowned; my thoughts were under a microscope—I had failed.

Paul began to pace at the foot of the bed. "You owe someone money?" He rubbed down his face before his hand dropped. That's why you came to Benton after leaving it all those years ago? Why didn't you say?"

"Because you don't have any. What difference could it make?"

He ignored my answer, his own questions pressing harder. "There's something else—a someone—Antoine. How much trouble are you in?"

"I need to sell Lucille's house. It's the only reason I came back."

He came to a stop. "If you don't pay, what happens?"

"Antoine will come for it himself. He's quite verbally creative with his 'ten ways to smash my kneecaps'—it's all or nothing with him."

"How much?" was all he said.

My words lodged in my throat.

His eyes narrowed, refusing to release the question I didn't want to answer. "How much are we talking, Dana?"

"Fifty-thousand dollars in cash. It increases the longer I wait to return it."

"A loan shark?" His eyes widened.

I didn't answer because I didn't need to. The shame on my face must have been as evident as the words falling out of my head.

"How did you get wrapped up with a loan shark? You're a smart girl. Say you get your money, pay your debt. What happens next?"

"I have a life in Georgia, friends, and college to return to."

"Then why did you build a life here, too?"

His question threw me, and my mouth hung open. Is that what I had done? On reflection, it probably was, but my plans had always stayed the same. "I don't know." I sighed.

"So, you'll still leave? That's what happens next? Dana, I can't leave Benton, and you can't stay. What did you need the money for?"

"When my parents died, their wills instructed me to sell the house to allow the rental of a small off-campus apartment and pay my college tuition until its end. That's what I did until their medical bills arrived. After that, the rest of the money didn't last; rent doubled, and I lost my part scholarship when my grades dropped. Because of the inheritance, I wasn't eligible for financial aid. Carolyn moved in to help out. I couldn't stand thinking their money would become the banks."

My eyes pleaded with him to understand. "We tried our best, halving rent between us, but with part-time jobs, assignments, and astronomical tuition fees, it was impossible. Food costs alone could have bankrupted us. Antoine said this would be an easy fix. He said all the right things. He lied to me."

Paul's face was an edifice of stone. "This is a prime example of using your gut instinct to avoid these people. We'll get it sorted. I don't know how, but we will."

The coolness seeped out of his voice and replaced it with a small smile. He walked over to the bed and pulled me to stand straight into a hug. "I don't know how you kept that a secret from me. The only person who has the power to be selective with their thoughts fully is Luke—an Alpha. I hear everything that crosses your mind, from—' Can you put marshmallows in the toaster, to what underwear you've chosen and why."

His gaze flicked down to mine. "Don't get me started on that last one, and never use the toaster when I'm not there."

"I didn't hide it on purpose." Yet, like Paul, I wondered how that had been possible. Maybe my buried secrets were embedded than I had given them credit for.

"It's the one thing I hate to think about because I know how stupid I was. Every time it surfaces in my mind, I force it away and focus on something else until it goes away."

"That's exactly what you need to do to stop me, or anyone else, getting in your head. Apply that logic to what I've taught you today. You'll be shutting us all out in no time. Soon I want to show you something—and it's going to change everything about the world you think you know. I know you're ready."

"I think I am too. I can't afford not to be, and I'm tired of letting life walk over me. I'm in the game now, and I want to be a player."

"Practice what I've shown you—again and again, once I leave. When you find a focus, it blocks everything else. Find the same spot in your mind where you bury your secrets. It's important. We need to do this right. You will need to be able to sense the good from the bad. Soon, you won't be able to trust your eyes."