She gestured to the pink armchair on his left.

Ivan delicately removed its flower-embroidered pillow and lowered his long frame into the chair. His knees came up since the chair was so low and he, so tall. Settling in, he placed the flowery cushion on his lap.

Miss Finn clicked the safety on her gun and shoved the thing in the pocket of her wrinkled apron.

"I will admit, sir, that I am a little frustrated with your pack at the moment," she said, sweetly tucking one ankle under the other as she folded her hands on the armrest. "I have done everything you recommended to keep your kind off of me. Since I was thirteen, mind you. Thirteen. My grandma didn't think you'd let me go, so she taught me a few things herself. Made sure I stayed clear away from you."

Her grandmother Frederica had been a potential mate as well, but her situation had turned out even worse than Miss Finn's. Her mate and first pup had been brutally murdered by a jealous rival. Those days had been more brutal—killing a wolf for their human mate wasn't unheard of. But a pup? That was a crime unpardonable.

Ivan had reread the files to prepare for this meeting. In compensation for her loss, the Pack had granted Frederica immunity. While capable of carrying their young, Federica was not obligated to do so, nor were her children nor her children's children. No potential mates were to be graphed in for breeding for three generations. It was the first contract of its kind in those days.

It wasn't as generous as it seemed; breeding potential in humans skipped at four generations on average.

But then came Miss Finn. Smelling sweeter than sunshine and more potent than all her flowers combined. Now that she was grown up, Ivan could tell she would have been the sort of mate that could change a pack. Will must have sensed that somehow. Ivan folded his hands over the pillow and nodded while she spoke.

"I've stayed off your land, I've stuck to the city limits, I've avoided any area I know your kind frequent. Not once have I stepped back your-side. Mr Wolf, sir, I am twenty-seven. Old enough to make a good wife and mother. But I haven't had kids or gotten married without warning you, just like I promised. I can't stand by my door with a taser every waking minute of the day, so I've kept my head low. I have done my part, Mr Wolf, sir."

"We are grateful for that, Miss. We know it can't be easy." Ivan's thumb was absentmindedly brushing over the blooms of lavender stitched onto the pillow. "And my name is Ivan."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "My whole life I've been paying for your mistake those fifteen years ago. And I am this close," she pinched her forefinger and thumb a hair apart, "this close, Mr Ivan, wolf, sir, to saying: screw it. Screw Beltan, the ungrateful city. Screw my friends, my altar, and all the reasons I stay here." Her eyes met his, hard. "And screw you. Pack of the White Pined Woods. I'm done."

Ivan took a moment to decide what to say. "That is a relatable sentiment, Miss Finn."

She waited for more from him. But he simply held her gaze, steady and letting his presence bleed a sense of calm into the room.

"I was expecting some sort of push back." She sounded miffed.

"I think you know, Miss Finn, that Beltan is the safest place for you. You have a deal with our Pack. And we honour that."

Her lips twisted, sour.

He waited a moment before setting the flowered pillow aside so he could lean towards her, elbows on his awkwardly bent knees. "We are an exception among Packs at the moment. We've had thirteen potentials born in the last decade, which means we can let you live your life without interference."

She scoffed.

"Other packs get as few as two mates every twenty-five years. And they still play by the old rules. Battle for the strongest, winner takes the mate. Some wolves try to cheat; a potential can be marked four or five times before the process is complete."

Miss Finn swallowed, and something in her pulled away from him. He remembered too late that she'd been the victim of a failed mark herself. His eyes strayed to her shoulder, where the scar would be. She lifted her chin in defiance, but he heard her heart squirm.

"Alpha disapproves of this behaviour," he assured her with a cringe. "We decide before we meet a potential who deserves the honour of a mate and pups. No brutal fights to the death, no mark-them-get-them behaviours."

The proud sketch of her posture was reinfused with anger. Ivan was relieved.

"Accidents have happened in the past," he granted. "And believe me, Miss Finn, what happened to you all those years ago is by far the worst of our generation."

She nodded slowly, and he gave her a moment. She raised her brow at the courtesy.

"Go on."

"The Pack of Cutting River is one of these old-way packs. Aggressive, isolated, cruel. And they— well, some of our wolves are fine with mating other wolves. No pups, obviously, but they get companionship and affection. There aren't enough potential mates to go around, so we make do. Cutting River, though. They want each pack member to have a mate—a proper mate, with breeding potential. It's a pack of seventy-nine warriors; forty-three of them have mates. They, they are known for taking their potentials in whatever way they can."

Miss Finn's lip curled, a show of disgust. But her fingers were fidgeting with the pocket of her apron.

"That's right. They have raided enemy packs and stolen every potential they can find, already mated or not. So they have no scruples taking unclaimed potentials from other territories if they can find them."

"Meaning I don't have a chance." Miss Finn took her taser from her pocket and laid it on the coffee table, which he was pretty sure was an overturned crate.

"Without out Pack's protection? No."

Miss Finn took a deep breath, shifting so she could sit up straight. When she let the breath back out, it was shaky.

The scent of her fear leaked into the air, souring the smell of flowers and sun and making him feel restless. And she didn't even know the worst of it. "Fortunately, we are not enemies with Cutting River. They are here to meet the royal family and run some trade negotiations with the Pack. We can assume they will also be searching for any—"

"William is with Cutting River, isn't he?" she said, already sure. Her voice was carefully dull.

Ivan ran his eyes back over her. "He is," he said, too surprised to elaborate.

"I see."

Miss Finn stood abruptly, making Ivan stand in turn. Miss Finn didn't seem to notice. She slid open a white closet door on the wall to his right. "How exactly are you planning on protecting me, then?" She took out a stool, hitched up her skirt and balanced on it. Ivan braced to help her, but she grabbed an old hatbox from the top shelf and clambered back down.

"Cutting River runs in factions: a colony of alphas that splinter off into their own packs." Ivan heard himself explain. She sat back on the couch and set the hatbox beside her.

He eased back into his chair. "Will is one of those alphas, and while sources tell me he is already mated— Miss Finn, is that a were-pistol?"

Miss Finn looked up from the bulky handgun she'd removed from the pastel-painted box and dropped it on her lap. It was at the least four times bigger than her taser; a shiny silver with an assortment of levers, dials and compartments. Way too heavy for her to be carrying around.

"It is." She pulled a large mason jar full of fat bullet cartridges from the box and sprinkled a few on her lap. "I've not used it on a wolf before, myself. But I've been assured it gets the job done."

He stared. "That's a Fur Splitter."

She smiled at him. "Right again, wolf."

"The police don't even have those. The Pack banned them."

She loaded eight bullets into the butt of the gun. "I didn't react well the first time you kidnapped me. I got smarter and met a few dealers this side of the river. Grandma taught me to shoot and made sure I practised." She gave him a look. "You don't tell your pack I have one and I might just let you fire it one day."

He tore his eyes from the gun and recoiled at the suggestion. "Those things were made illegal for a reason. They hurt like hell. Can take a wolf out for years."

"Humans have to defend themselves somehow." She tested the gun's weight and sighted something through the bars of her balcony. Ivan flinched. She checked the safety and put it back in her lap. "Anyway, you were warning me about William."

"Yes." Ivan leaned back in his chair, more wary than before. "How did you know he was in Cutting River?"

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes calculating. She shrugged. "Seemed like his thing. And this would be a whole lot of fuss over me for a pack visiting the queen. What sort of protection are you offering me?"

Ivan wondered if William had contacted her. But her demeanour refused questions. "Well, there are several options. The easiest, of course, is for you to join our Pack. There are several great wolves who would be honoured to have you—"

"Not an option. I hate your kind and everything you stand for," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "I won't be marrying an animal. And I won't be sleeping with one neither, to tangle their smell in mine or something else vile, so don't even suggest it."

Ivan took a deep breath, got caught on her scent, then let it back out real slow. "I wouldn't dare, Miss."

"Next option."

"Would you come to Pack grounds?"

"No. I swore never to cross to that side of the river and I meant it."

He'd expected as much. "Then a guard is our only option. And, while safe for you, it isn't necessarily safe for my wolves. A potential mate is a dangerous thing. You're around one too long and your world spins on a different axis."

She watched him.

Ivan carefully picked up the embroidered pillow and placed it back in his lap. "So we'll divide the shifts in two. Gives wolves a moment to reset. Living here, not an option—but your neighbour across the hall has agreed to take a month of vacation in the countryside. Her apartment will be at our disposal."

Miss Finn arched a brow. "Mrs. Whimble?"

"I believe that's the name."

"Poor lady. Dragged into this." She studied the sliver of sky outside and ran her hand down the handle of the werepistol.

"Miss?"

She shook her head. "Can you imagine how demeaning it would be to have your life watched and hunted merely because you were born with a particular scent, Mr Ivan, sir? So much so that it affects the very lives of your good-for-nothing neighbours?"

Ivan bowed his head. "I am not sure I can, Miss."

"No. You can't." She looked at him again, her head listing to the side. "And are you really the alpha's second?"

Ivan nodded. "I am Beta to White Pine."

She wiped her hand over her face. "Are you mated then, Beta of White Pine?"

"No, Miss."

"And you're the wolf that's been assigned to me?"

"Yes, Miss." In a way.

Another sigh and she placed the Fur Splitter on the crate-table next to her taser. "And why," those big, black eyes watched him, "would your alpha assign his beta to a little human you owe an old debt to in the middle of such tense pack meetings?"

"A lot of reasons," he said.

"A lot of reasons," she echoed slowly.

Ivan unballed his fists and wiped his hands over his trousers. "Two reasons, actually. First, I don't get along with members of Cutting River. It's best if I take backstage this time round. Second, I think it is high time the Pack pay more attention to her debts."

Miss Finn was shaking her head at him. "You know William. Don't you?"

Ivan gave himself a moment.

"You called him Will earlier," she said by way of explanation, waving a hand at his confusion.

"I do know William," he admitted, watching her closely.

"So this is personal," she said.

"It is."

"You requested this." Her voice was accusing. "You want a chance to take him down. Away from the pack. Hell, hold it—am I bait?"

Ivan blinked. "No. You are not bait. Protecting you is our top priority. We will stick to our deal with you. Everything else is spillover."

"Sure." She watched him from the corner of her eye. "You look familiar. The eyes and the slant of your jaw."

Ivan cringed. "I was there when we found you. Involved in the cleanup."

Her chin titled up. "And you know William, how?"

Ivan hesitated. His words were chosen carefully. "We trained together." He leaned forward again. "What that wolf did was unforgivable and you bore the worst of it. But his actions shamed both me, my mentor, and my Pack. If he comes for you again, I will make sure he pays for that."

And Ivan was sure he'd be coming.

She glanced at her gun and slowly relaxed her shoulders. "And when does this madness begin?"

"Two weeks from now. They have said they'll come in three, but we expect scouts a week early. I'll be moving into Mrs Wimble's apartment then, alongside two other Pack wolves. We'll keep an eye on you from a distance while you're at work and guard across the hall at night."

She breathed deep through her nose. "Are you a religious man, sir?"

Ivan's hesitation spoke for him.

Her lips pinched. "Well, you ought to be. I'll caution you against superstition all the same. No matter what you hear about me, I'm not going your-side."

Ivan thought that an odd stipulation but bowed his head all the same.

She stood, and Ivan followed suit. "Two weeks from now, we'll meet at the altar. A new contract is in order if you'll be living down the hall."

"Whatever makes you comfortable, Miss."

Eying him, a whole head and a half taller than her, she took a step closer and Ivan almost tripped over the pink armchair. "Now if I die in the next month, I'm blaming you."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, Miss."

"If I'm marked by the end of this, I'm blaming you." She took another step.

"I would expect nothing less."

"And if any other wolf gets within a yard of me or my house and I don't like it, I'm gonna hunt you down with my Fur Splitter and shove it up your ass. Do you hear?"

Ivan found himself smiling a little. "I hear you, Miss Finn."

"Good, Mr. Ivan. I'm glad we understand each other."

They stood there a moment; her, just an arm's reach away. A breeze came through the open window and snaked about them. He breathed her in, deep, and noticed the way the orange sun curved in to make her skin glow a bronze-gold. Her long neck stretched up to watch him; her hair lifted off her shoulders like a cloud in the breeze.

Then she stepped aside. "Show yourself out then, Mr. Ivan. I'll see you in two weeks."

It took him a moment, but Ivan bowed his head and stepped around her and the couch, closing the red door behind him. He waited there until he heard the locks click into place. All five of them.

_____

You best believe Nosey Neighbour Martinez watched him leave, surprised the Miss didn't tase another wolf into oblivion.

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