Hazel put the rope of the small motorboat on the jetty. The rotten wood creaked under her steps as she shouldered her travel bag and looked at the small village on the edge of the forest. Small wooden houses were scattered between the greenery and merged by their gray paint with the rock on whose ledges they had been built. From the woods it was an unpleasant way here, there was no road connection, although it had already been discussed in her childhood. The nicer access was to go by boat. From here, the small settlement stretched like a painting on the small mossy rocky plateaus. Down here there were a handful of old jetties stretching like fingers into the lake and as many boats.

She took a few steps ashore and saw a shadow detach from the trunk of a pine tree. It was one of the young guards of the village, barely older than her, who patrolled the sea side. A young man of tall stature.
"Hazel? I haven't seen you for at least six months. How nice that you are back! Do your parents know you're coming to visit today? I didn't see any message on the pack server," the young man approached her with a friendly smile and then stopped in front of her. Cannon Banker. He had gone to school with Hazel. The little chubby boy had really changed under the strict hand of his father.
"That's right, you still use emails. I wrote them a message this morning. I'm using the wonders of modernity now," Hazel giggled, pulling her phone out of her pocket to pointedly hold it up. Cannon snorted softly.
"But you also have to contact the alpha. He has to keep track, you know how he is when he has unannounced visitors in the pack."
"I know I do that after eating at my parents' house. I'm sure they're already waiting for me as I know them. That's how long the alpha will be able to wait at least," Hazel said casually with a shrug of her shoulders and wanted to pass Cannon, but he blocked her way. A slight nervousness spoke from his gaze.
"Better you do it right now. He's gotten a lot stricter lately," Cannon said with an apologetic look. Hazel raised her eyebrows. How unusual. Usually, old Darus was knitted, but never overly careful. "Has anything happened, why he's doing it this way?" asked Hazel a little less easily. It would, of course, worry her if something had happened while she was away. Especially her friends and family. She felt a cold hand close around her neck. Cannon sighed softly. "No, don't worry, but... well... Actually, I'm not allowed to tell you that. Officially, you're not part of the pack anymore." - "Cannon! This is my family," she interrupted. He grimaced in resignation, looked right and left, and then hugged Hazel without notice. Perplexed, she wanted to ask what it meant when his voice in her ear made her linger. "Too much has happened in the last few months to tell you here. But I can tell you this: There are people sneaking around on the pack grounds that we don't know. Stray. Savage. Hunter. No idea who exactly, in any case they didn't come for a nice coffee break, if you understand what I mean. At the same time, Darus has surprisingly handed over much of his responsibility to his eldest son Matt and has not appeared publicly since then. He locks himself in his house and has it guarded by three of the old warriors like a treasure chest. Under the hand one tells himself that he suffers from an illness and therefore no longer shows himself. But psh... you didn't get it from me," Cannon whispered hastily and incoherently. Hazel pushed him away with her hands. He looked guilty and then took his stance again. "Do you understand now?" he asked again at a normal volume. Hazel nodded, unsure what to make of what she had heard.

"So let's go to Alpha first. After that, you can eat in peace with your parents." Cannon took the lead. Not that she didn't know the way. Although Matt had never been one of her best friends because he was a few years younger and terribly childish in the past, she had spent some good hours at the Alpha's house. They had played hide-and-seek, chased each other in the spacious wooden house and bellowed. Now it seemed so incredibly far away to her, like a dream that was hardly remembered. Everything now felt familiar and completely foreign at the same time. Even Cannon, whom she now followed the narrow path of sand and gravel, was both known and foreign. For the little boy, whom she had admittedly not always treated kindly before, was now a man of considerable size and stature. How had her friends changed? Had they already married? Hazel wanted to know everything right away. Impatience gnawed at her.

When they stood in front of the Alpha's hut, there were actually three of the older guards who greeted them. "Hi Hazel! How nice that you come to visit, child. How do you fare all alone in the big city? Are you also studying hard?" asked Gerrit, a friend of her father and almost as familiar to her as a close family member. She hugged him with a smile and looked at the dark-haired man. He had grown wrinkled and gray strands mingled with the black in his beard, but his dark eyes were still warm and welcoming. "I'm not alone," she said, playfully annoyed, what she had said hundreds of times. "I have friends at university with whom I can do a lot and who help me. They take care of me, I take care of them, it's all good." But her face brightened immediately. "But I'm still happy to finally be back here with you! The village seems to have hardly changed, everything looks like in my memory. The houses, the boats - even the old one of Bran is still there, with his state flags that he wants to clear 'tomorrow'." Gerrit smiled proudly, but Hazel also thought he saw something sad in his gaze. "Bran is dead. The old dog just fell off the bar stool a few months ago. Heart attack. Hit his children like a blow," said Gerrit dejectedly. But before Hazel could express her sympathy , Gerrit quickly moved on. "I know he wouldn't have wanted us to be sad but... Well, I think he knew that he was asking too much. Especially from his family. But after such a long time where we haven't seen each other, let's not talk about something so sad! How is your studies going? And... maybe there is a young man who could convince you of himself." He raised his eyebrows and Hazel smiled half-heartedly. Bran's death had hit her harder than she thought. "Joar, there is such a person," she said anyway, so as not to be the spoilsport. Gerrit laughed in amazement. "Indeed! Why didn't you bring him with you? Or are you still hiding him at the bottom of the jetty?" Hazel had to join in the warm laugh and then ran her hand through her hair embarrassed. "It's still quite fresh, just three weeks and... he doesn't know about all the werewolf stuff yet. I didn't want to scare him away and fall into the house with the door, so... anyway... I'll wait until I tell him." This was followed by an awkward silence in which Gerrit's laughter drowned. He now looked skeptical and had to clear his throat first. "He doesn't even know you're a werewolf? Oh Hazel... you know that there are always problems with that. Secrets are never the optimal start for a relationship. What if he doesn't accept that? What if he gets scared? You should clear this up as early as possible!", Gerrit said now in his best instructive tone, sounding like her father. Hazel rolled her eyes. "He's cool, Gerrit! I have everything under control; If we've only been together for a month, I'll tell him and he'll certainly see the whole thing loosely. He's not the type to get so upset about anything," she said casually and waved it off.

Then rumbling sounded from the house and angry voices shouted muffled through the walls. It must be three people, Hazel thought, when the door flew open - almost ripped from its rusty hinges - and an ice storm came out.