I couldn't bear to look Marie in the eye when I arrived at the clinic the following morning. I'd woken up with a start to the sound of the car's engine revving when Ephraim came to drive it back hours before dawn, and I hadn't slept since. I looked disheveled and exhausted, and my muscles still twinged when I moved too quickly. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd succeeded in humiliating me, but it was written all over me when I passed her in the hallway on my way to the storeroom.

Once inside, it was obvious that she and the other healers had taken full advantage of my absence the day before to come in and take what they needed. Most of the shelves I'd meticulously worked through were only somewhat rearranged, but some were entirely jumbled in a way that made me think it was purposeful, rather than innocent use. It would set me back at least a week to redo the work.

Anger bubbled up inside my chest, hot and fast. I leaned forward and gripped the sides of the stool and took several deep breaths, picturing what it would feel like to smash its legs into the shelves, shattering the glass jars on the floor and sending their contents cascading around the room. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that I'd be the one to have to clean it up in the end. Jack always said that I had the temper of a full-blooded wolf, and imagining his teasing forced something close to a smile to my lips. It was the first time that a memory of him almost brought me more joy than pain.

That realization carried me through the next few days as I once again settled into the rhythm of my monotonous work. I found a medical encyclopedia stashed away in a drawer, so I took breaks every so often to read about the ingredients I was sorting through. Had I found it sooner, I would have recognized the calendula page the second Marie gave it to me. I found the bottom half still attached toward the front of the book: The dried petals of the calendula plant are used in tinctures, ointments, and washes to treat burns, bruises, and cuts, as well as the minor infections they cause. Flowers range from yellow to orange; blooms early summer to first frost.

Days like today, with the heady scent of herbs heavy in the air and snow falling noiselessly outside the window, I could almost imagine myself being content here. Almost—but not quite.

Ever the bearer of ill tidings, Marie came in just as I was flipping the book open for the third time that morning.

"You—" She paused when she saw me with the book. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," I said over my shoulder. "If I'm ever going to be able to use any of this stuff, I should know what it's for."

I could almost hear her biting back a harsh retort. You never will, I thought she'd say. Instead: "You've been requested by the Alpha."

The words on the page in front of me grew blurry and my lungs filled with cold, concrete-hard dread.

"Is there a problem?" I asked. I hated that she could sense my fear, but in that moment there was nothing I could do to hide it.

"Ephraim is waiting outside to take you now." Her voice was tight.

"Now?" I twisted around to look at her, eyes wide. I thought this was a warning, at least. The Alpha has requested your presence tomorrow, or next week, she would have added. Not today. I was wearing the same sweater I'd worn two days in a row and I was almost positive I hadn't brushed my hair since the morning before. I ran my fingers through the knots roughly and came away with a handful of loose strands that I shook onto the ground.

"Do I have to explain to you the meaning of the word, or have you primped sufficiently?" Marie sneered. I dug my fingernails into my palms, determined not to snap back, and plastered a smile on my face.

"No, ma'am." I slipped my coat on and followed her out to where Ephraim idled in the parking lot. Just the sight of the car Gabriel had driven me home in sent the swirling, twisting butterflies inside of me into frantic motion. I hesitated slightly, wondering whether the front or the backseat would be more appropriate. Prisoners ride in the back, I thought darkly. Ephraim made the decision for me when he leaned across the passenger seat to pop the door open. I climbed in gratefully.

By Castle Pack standards, Ephraim wasn't particularly tall or broad. In fact, I thought that Marie may even have a slight height advantage. He, too, wore a similarly severe expression to hers. If I had to guess, I would put them in their early 60's, though he appeared slightly older. His job catering to the Alpha and his Council had added a few extra years' worth of stress lines and gray hair that Marie hadn't gotten from bossing other healers around at the clinic.

He didn't speak but nodded a greeting in my direction. Truthfully, I was grateful for the quiet. I was racking my brain looking for what I might have done wrong and mentally crafting different versions of apologies for whatever it might be. Anything to keep distracted from the faint traces of Gabriel's scent that still clung to the cloth seats.

As we neared Gabriel's home, I grew less confident that I would be able to squeeze any of the various apologies I'd written past the lump that was forming in my throat. Though I didn't want conversation, I'd have liked a few words of encouragement from Ephraim, or at the very least a hint as to what Gabriel wanted me for. I didn't get either.

Without Gabriel watching me this time, I allowed myself a few moments to study the exterior of his home. The snow reflecting bright white on the windows made it impossible to see in past the glass, and it was sharp against the dark wood and black steel of the siding. I followed Ephraim slowly to the front door, appreciating every steep angle and rough stone accent.

While the exterior felt more like an art installation than a home, inside, the space was stark and bland. There were a few generic decorations, but nothing overtly personal. The walls were bare and devoid of any pictures or art. It was extremely tidy, but only because there was nothing to clutter it with. It was cold, too. I refused Ephraim's offer to take my jacket and instead kept it zipped up to my chin.

He led me down a hallway to a wide door at the back of the house. I felt guilty for the snow I was tracking across the hardwoods behind me, but it didn't seem right to take my shoes off when I'd come in. I wasn't going to turn up to my potential execution in socks.

Ephraim knocked on the door, paused, then opened it. He looked at me expectantly.

Stepping into Gabriel's office felt like stepping out into the forest: the entire back wall was constructed with seamless glass that looked out into the dense treeline. The space more closely resembled a library than an office; the dark shelves lining the walls were filled with books, most of them old. I could smell them, and Gabriel. The scent of old pages mingling with his wild evergreen musk was, in a strange way, calming.

He was sitting in a large chair behind an even larger wooden desk. He studied me as I stood on the threshold until the door closing behind me forced me to take a few steps forward, deeper into the room. I regarded him apprehensively. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows and a tie hanging loose around his neck. This was the most professional I'd seen him yet and I had to look out the window over his shoulder to keep my eyes from sliding over his muscles beneath the material.

Predators in nature are often endowed with a striking beauty: their bodies patterned with an array of vibrant colors or their features sculpted with perfect symmetry. Their natural allure is not just a coincidence, but an evolutionary adaptation that allows them to lure in their unsuspecting prey, disarming and distracting them, making them easier to catch. My pounding heart reminded me once more that Gabriel was no different from a wild predator; and that I, like prey, was drawn to his dangerous perfection.

"Sit." He commanded. I moved cautiously across the room and sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. "Are you cold?"

I pulled my hands out of my coat pockets reluctantly. "I'm fine."

"I suppose I do keep it rather cool in here." He mused.

I waited for him to drop the hammer, to tell me that I'd made some unforgiveable error or that the pack had unanimously decided exile was better than debt repayment.

"Kiera?" I had been so caught in my own mind that I hadn't heard him speak until he said my name. He said my name. The two short syllables crossing his lips set my blood on fire.

"S-sorry?" I stuttered.

"There's been a call for an Alpha gathering."

I frowned, confused. I wasn't sure what this had to do with me. "Oh."

"The Sawtooth Pack thinks it's necessary to have a conversation about our alliances and how we're handling...issues in the region." He sounded annoyed.

"Human issues," I filled in the blank for him. My heart ached when I heard the name of my pack. He nodded.

"When I travel—when any of our Councilmembers travel outside of our borders—we bring a healer. Ephraim. However," he paused and withdrew a letter from a pile on his desk. I recognized the handwriting on the envelope immediately.

"However," Gabriel began again, flattening the page on the desk in front of himself. "Dmitri has requested that I bring you."

"Me?" I choked out.

"He believes bringing you will be a show of diplomacy and the strength of our alliance, and hopefully convince other regional packs to offer their support."

"You shouldn't take me." I argued, almost desperately. "Dmitri will understand...if anything happens, I can't help if you won't accept my medicine. I don't think I'm the right person for this."

"It doesn't matter what you or I think!" He snarled harshly. I shrank back in the chair. The brief flash of anger seemed to tire him and he rubbed his hand over his face. "You will do as you're told."

"Yes, sir." For the second time that day, I was resigned to following orders. I looked down at my hands, clasped tight in my lap. They were trembling. I shoved them under my legs.

"Pack for several days. Please ensure you're dressed appropriately; this is a formal gathering."

"I'll do the best I can." Mentally, I was scanning my closet. Jack hadn't packed many nice things, though I didn't own many nice things to begin with.

"We'll pick you up tomorrow mid-morning." Gabriel spun his chair away from me to stare out the window at the falling snow and, having obviously been listening through their link, Ephraim opened the office door. I was dismissed.

"I'll take you into town." Ephraim said when we were back in the car. "You'll need at least a dress for dinner the first night. The rest of the time you will likely be left alone. Slacks are preferable, jeans are fine. Nothing torn." He eyed the pants I had on with rips at the knees. I slid my hands over them self-consciously.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Ensure that your medical bag is stocked."

"It's at the clinic." I immediately began flipping through the book I'd been reading in my mind, making a mental note of a few easy herbs I could grab.

"I'll drop you there instead." He turned back in the direction of the clinic. "Keep your head down. You'll be fine."

Ephraim's words of encouragement, minimal as they were, almost brought me to tears. I didn't realize how much I needed such a simple kindness. I clung to them as I moved on autopilot through the rest of my day. I'd never doubted myself as a healer in the Sawtooth Pack, not once. But here, where my skills weren't accepted, I felt out of my depth. The best I could hope for was that other Alphas travelled with their own healers as well, so that if anything went sideways, Gabriel could turn to one of them instead.