A single file line of werewolves march through the grand entrance and stand shoulder to shoulder outside the makeshift hospital room.

I readjust my new tie-dye overalls and red and white polka-dot hair-bow to go and greet them. It's a shame that my favorite and possibly the most beautiful outfit I've ever worn was entirely ruined with blood and guts in the vampire ambush.

Yet another thing that can never be forgiven.

A short stubby werewolf steps forward and slaps a hand to his chest. "Beta Oswald reporting back in with Gamma Wendy, Delta Joe, Omega Tyler, Omega Chris, Omega Vicky, Omega Freddie, Omega Mildred, Omega Philip—"

"Wonderful!", I take in a sharp breath, "Any sight of Chad?"

Brett's self deprecating ramblings pause as wolf ears sprout from his head for a moment, perked and high alert

This happens every time there's a mention of him— of Chad. Does my mate miss him that much? The guy who abandoned us in our time of need? The monster who masqueraded as a human?

Would he be this way if it was me instead who went missing?

Or it were me that was in a coma?

My fingers twitch, begging to retract into claws.

Gamma Wendy courtesies. "Apologies, Queen Luna, none of us have spotted any sign of Chad McDracula."

Omega Chris coughs, "Junior-"

"Junior! Yes! Haha! How could I ever forget that!" Gamma Wendy smiles, but the beads of sweat collecting atop her brow indicate inner pain.

Over these past few days I've begun to wonder, just what hell is wrong with this pack. They tremble and cower like a newborn pups in my presence.

I've done nothing but be kind to them, yet, they look at me like I'm some kind of horrifying beast. Is it my fashion? Are they intimidated by a paperclip bracelet? Should I be insulted?

Wolfinia appears in my mind's orb, laid out cross legged on the marble kitchen island bar, stuffing her face with kibble out of a popcorn bag. "Man these guys suuuuck"

"F*ck off."

Todd and Brett's sobs pause.

The werewolves sharply inhale.

They gulp.

Oh.

That was... out loud.

"Uh, I mean, 'aw man!'" I stomp my foot. "Damn you, Chad! You can't hide forever!"

A cricket chirps.

Todd and Brett sobs continue.

The werewolves exhale.

Wolfinia tosses the bag of kibble and leaps to the tiled floor, trotting along the row of werewolves. "This is actually really hilarious."

She chuckles, "These idiots can't find one vampire. A 6'3 vampire with fried blonde hair!" Tears rolls down her snout, "And a bad spray tan!"

The laughter escalates to a howl as she falls onto her back. "Whose only means of transportation is a f*cking skateboard!"

Her tail thumps wildly as she rolls side to side, "Oh my god— this is too much, I can't breathe!" Then the hysterics dies down, she sighs, clutching her chest. "Ah, this was too good. I'm goin for a smoke."

Wolfinia poofs away.

I grumble. "Have you found anyone that could treat Brenda? A wizard? A witch? Anything?"

Omega Tyler rubs his chin, "Do wizards even exist?"

Delta Joe steps on the Omega's foot, "Silence."

Omega Tyler squeaks.

Beta Oswald stiffens his spine and slaps a hand to his chest, again. "Unfortunately, dear Queen Luna, we have not been able to locate anyone with experience in restoring Shapeshifters! Please forgive us." He dips his head and drops to his knee, "We are undeserving of your grace!"

A bit more of me dies every time these rude and tasteless fashion police disappoint me.

Has Wolfinia been an intellectual this whole time?

I pinch my brows together and scrunch away the crimson brewing in the pools of my orbs. "Brett, dismiss them."

No response.

"BRETT!" I shout.

Brett scurries out of the pantry and joins my side, "This meetings adjourned."

The werewolves disperse from the kitchen.

A gasp escapes my lips as Brett snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me into him. He gently tilts up my chin to meet his tantalizing gaze and caresses my cheek. My frail heart leaps at the small action. I'm supposed to be angry at him— livid, actually.

I promised myself I would treat him coldly for at least a week, but I just can't.

I want to bury my face is his large warm hand, to entirely engulf me.

The lightest brush of calloused fingertips heightens every single one of my senses. His masculine musk of evergreen and mixed berry soap with a hint of mocha vanilla coffee with a half shot of espresso. Perfect lips that are so inviting.

Wait— is his face getting closer to mine?

Oh my god... does he want to kiss me?

Right now?

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, then twirls the end of it with his finger.

Yes.

I'm ready for my first kiss.

Now is the time.

This is it, I feel it. He's going to lean in...

I close my orbs and part my lips, awaiting his.

"Lydia," he says, huskily, "... you must refer to me by my title when we are in the presence of our pack."

What.