"Baby! Hey, baby!" The man snapped his fingers. "Get me another beer, will ya, sweetheart?"

Sawyer sighed and lifted her eyes to the grubby ceiling. She'd pray for the man to suddenly disappear, but the goddess didn't listen to people like her.

Pasting a false smile on her face, she called over her shoulder, "One moment!" The tired refrain of some old rock song played over the bar radio as Sawyer opened the fridge and pulled out the man's third beer in half an hour. If he made it to five before the hour was out, she'd have to cut him off.

"Here you go," she said, popping the top and sliding it across the counter.

The man, a thirty-something human in trucker gear, took a long pull on the beer and then belched. "Hey, isn't this supposed to be a faerie bar?" He palmed some nuts and shoved them into the endless hole that was his mouth. Bits of shells and nut pieces fell from his thick fingers, scattering along the bar.

It used to be, but Sawyer was the only faerie employee left. Still, she was obligated to confirm, "It is." Sawyer wiped down his mess with a clean rag. Tucking the rag into the rolled-up top of her apron, she braced herself for the inevitable question.

"So, where are your wings?"

"Tucked away," she answered tiredly. Most faeries in Hecate City hid their wings and pointed ears under glamour. Sawyer was no different.

The trucker grinned and pulled a bill from his wallet, slapping it on the bar. "Fifty to see them."

Sawyer rolled her eyes and pushed it back towards him. "No." If he wanted to see faerie tits and wings, there were plenty of strip clubs on the edge of town where the goods were on full display.

"You're such a bitch," the man growled, grabbing the bill, and shoving it back into his wallet.

Sawyer ignored him. There was no use getting into an argument with a human—especially a drunk one. She only wished that Marvin was still here; the bouncer had left a few months ago for a better-paying job at that fancy new bar up the street. Still, she wasn't completely defenseless. A few zaps of her magic usually shocked the most recalcitrant patron into compliance.

She moved down the bar, cleaning goddess-knew-what, but it kept her busy and out of the man's reach. There weren't that many people in Harvey's bar tonight; almost all of their clientele had jumped ship to Graziano's Enchanted Pub. Honestly, Sawyer wasn't sure how long they were going to stay open.

The thought of finding another job made her stomach turn. There was very little work in Hecate City for a faerie such as herself without a college degree—bartending and working at one of the strip clubs were the best options.

You could always go home.

Sawyer sighed and faced the mirror that hung over the bar. That stupid voice had popped up again. It had been chanting the same line since Harvey confided to Sawyer that things weren't going well.

She snorted at her reflection: long, wavy lavender hair, blue eyes, and a heart-shaped face. With her tall, slim figure—not to mention the wings—she stuck out like a sore thumb back home. It wasn't the reason why she left, but it might as well have been.

I'm not going home and that's that, she told her subconscious firmly. Was it her imagination, or did someone laugh ironically?

You're just tired, she reasoned, grabbing glasses left on the bar and placing them in a small grey tub to wash later.

"A hundred to see your wings," the trucker called out.

"No."

But the man would not be deterred. "This is going to be the best money you'll make all night, baby. All I'm asking for is a quick peek. Two hundred for your tits."

Gritting her teeth, Sawyer flexed her fingers, sparks dancing between her fingertips. As she turned around to confront the man, the trucker suddenly yelped.

Sawyer spun on the rubber mat behind the bar, mouth popping open as she watched a large man lift the trucker off his stool by his collar. Dark, wavy black hair curled against the man's neck, and his blue eyes were consumed by an angry ring of orange fire.

"What did you say to my sister, asshole?" the man growled, cords bunching under the skin of his forearm.

"Lee!" Sawyer gasped, more in shock at seeing her adoptive brother than the fact Lee was manhandling a human.

"Apologize to her—right now."

The trucker's terrified scruffy face was turning a nasty shade of red as Lee continued to hold him up. "I—I'm sorry!" he wheezed, arms and legs pedaling thin air. His foot connected with the stool and knocked it over.

"She can't hear you," Lee said, shaking the trucker.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I'M SORRY!"

"Goddamn dirty human." Lee dropped the man and he thumped to the floor. Gasping for air, the trucker pressed himself up against the bar. "Get up, coward. Take your fucking money and get out of here," Lee snarled, taking a step out of the way.

The trucker didn't need a second invitation. He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, whimpering as he ran.

Sawyer watched as the trucker disappeared into the night. Sighing, she turned to her brother. "Lee ..." At least he could have made the guy pay. Now that was coming from her pitiful wages.

Lee pivoted, all the fire dying in his eyes. "Sawyer! Goddess, girl—do you know how long we've been looking for you?" He ran around the bar and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, holding her tight. "What the hell are you doing in this dive, anyway?"

"Working," she managed to squeeze out. Goddess, her brother had certainly packed on the muscle in the five years since she'd left. He was strong before and now he was a goddamn tank.

"Well, hang up your apron and put in your resignation. You're coming home."

Go home? "What? No, Lee. Lee! Put me down!"

Her brother, thankfully, obeyed and set her back on the dirty mat. "What do you mean 'no'? Mom and Dad have been worried sick."

"I talk to them now and then," Sawyer muttered, suddenly feeling shameful in the presence of her brother. She glanced down at the mat and poked at it with the toe of her shoe.

Lee sighed and cupped her face between his massive hands, gently lifting her chin. "We want you home, Sawyer."

Shame gave way to anger. Jerking out of her brother's grasp, Sawyer whirled around. "I can't go home!" she cried. "You know damn well why I can't!" She gripped the edge of the bar, memories assailing her from all sides—the laughter, the humiliation, the fear.

"Yes, you can," Lee replied patiently, taking a step forward. "Alpha Owen's stepping down next full moon."

"I—what?" Had she heard Lee right? The great Alpha of Hecate City, the Voice of Law, and Ultimate Pack Authority—the very reason why she was schlepping through life in this hellhole? Alpha Owen was ... stepping down?

"He's right."

Sawyer's heart gave a traitorous thump and she turned around. Walking into the bar and back into her hell of a life was Caleb Stillwater.

Alpha Owen's grandson.

Her brother's best friend.

Her first kiss; her first ... everything.

"Caleb," she whispered, flushing. Her wings, concealed as they were, fluttered, betraying her most intimate thoughts. Thoughts she had tried in vain to suppress all these years.

"Hi," Caleb replied awkwardly, looking down at the dirty floor and then back up at Sawyer. He was as tall as Lee, with short, dark auburn hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Caleb had been handsome as a teenager, but as a man, he was positively radiating masculinity. Girls were probably throwing themselves at him left, right, and center.

She hoped they were. She hoped he'd moved on.

But if he was here, probably not.

"Lee's right," Caleb said, completely unaware of her inner turmoil. "Gramps is passing the Authority over to Dad at the next full moon."

Sawyer's eyes flicked between the two werewolves. An Alpha rarely, if ever, gave up their Authority willingly. Typically, they had to die before that happened. "What? How?"

Caleb shook his head. "I don't know why, but it's going to be done."

"So, you see? You can come home!" Lee announced happily, throwing out his arms. "Uncle Ryan's going to change everything."

Ryan was Caleb's father and Alpha Owen's heir. Growing up, the two families were so close, the kids called each others' parents "aunt" and "uncle".

Sawyer glanced at Lee, then at the floor. "I ..." It wasn't that easy. It couldn't be that easy. Ryan Stillwater could announce tomorrow that he was inviting every supernatural in the city to the next Full Moon Festival, but the werewolves wouldn't buy it. They had lived under Alpha Owen's aegis for far too long.

Lee reached out and took her by the arm. "C'mon. If we leave now, we can get home before midnight."

Tears began to form in Sawyer's eyes. "No," she said softly, pulling her arm free. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" Lee repeated, eyes wide. "What do you mean 'not yet'?"

"I meant what I said!" Sawyer said, louder than she intended.

"Sav ..." Caleb began, but she turned around swiftly.

"I said not yet!"

Caleb froze as if she'd struck him. Sawyer flushed, a wave of shame crashing over her. She never meant to hurt Caleb or her family, but they just didn't understand.

Lee frowned. Sawyer drew herself up, ready to fight, but suddenly, he sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "All right, kid. Think it over. But I'll be back in a few days."

"Fine," Sawyer ground out, meeting his eyes. They'd played this game often as a child, but it was usually a struggle over who got the last cookie or got to play the best character in the video game first. This time, however, their parents weren't there to mediate and tell them to play fair.

"Fine." Lee's mouth opened, as if he was going to say something else, but he quickly closed it. Turning on his heel, he walked around the bar and stalked towards the door, practically ripping it off its hinges.

Caleb took a step forward, then changed his mind as he watched her face harden. "I ... I'll see you soon, Sav ..."

"Yeah ... see you," she whispered back, watching him as he followed Lee out.

As the door closed, Sawyer sagged against the bar and began to cry.