Will had been gone a week with no response. It worried Harley. As she went through her days, anxious thoughts peppered her mind. What could really be happening two states over? A rogue clean up can't take this long. Not with the other hunters this Alpha called in. The whole situation made her uneasy. When she had asked about it, Alpha Mark gave her no response. "Will will share his information when it is necessary. Just know he's alive and okay." Alpha Mark had said.

He might have well said, Let the adults handle it. Which, in a way, she understood. Harley was not a shifter wolf. She was not a high ranking pack member. She was no one, and that meant she would never be important enough to be in the loop.

And so, whenever she wasn't desperately trying to keep her worried mind off of Will by falling into book worlds, she threw herself deep into training.

Cam took over instructor duty. He did a great job...but he wasn't Will. He stuck to the same exercises Will had, and added a few more when he realized her body had adjusted to the work load and she needed more of a push. Surprisingly, as a trainer, Cam barely spoke a word. Will, on the other hand, was loud. During warm ups or just general exercises, Will had a tendency to yell, "Come on, Harley," or, "This is where you get the most benefit, Harley."

From Cam...nothing. No shouting. No clapping. No smack talk. She didn't know how much she valued Will pushing her to do better and better until it was gone.

She'd finished her last lap and fell rather than sat on the dry ground when Cam ambled over. "Good job today, Harley."

"Thanks, Cam." Harley peered up at him, squinting against the bright morning sun. She began her stretches, slowly, as Will always urged her to be careful. According to Will stretching was important, but she could easily pull a muscle if she stretched too far.

The gentle rush of wind through the trees filled the silence. Cam rested against a nearby tree while she finished up. "You're quiet." Cam spoke.

I could say the same. Upon first meeting Cam, she got an impression of an easygoing, hard-working wolf who was generous with his humor. The Cam she'd dealt with over the past couple of days had been subdued and serious.

At least Harley was known for being reserved. Cam had stepped into a whole other skin. Definitely one less flexible.

She shrugged and pulled one leg in while reaching for the other in a hamstring stretch. "I don't have anything to say."

"And normally I'm okay with that--you're naturally a quiet person. But I can see the bags under your eyes. When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?"

Harley snorted. Cam was right on the money--she hadn't been able to sleep at all the past couple of nights. Her dreams were so vivid she could hear the deep, rumbling growls of wolves fighting, and feel the sharp, stab of claws digging into her stomach. Helpless as the pull of those razor claws yanked her insides from her body, feel the chill as all her blood seeped into the brisk, unforgiving ground.

"Harley."

She blinked. In the distance, birds chirped and twittered, still welcoming in the morning. The late May sun had done a nice job warming up the meadow. She wasn't cold. With one swipe of her hand she could tell her stomach hadn't been gouged out. "Does a rogue hunt usually take this long?"

Cam ran long fingers through his dark blond hair. "Sometimes. If the wolf is tricky enough."

"Does...does it ever get any easier?"

He stared at her then, weighing something in his mind. His green eyes were striking, in the way that they matched the small patches of grass popping up throughout the meadow. She didn't know too many people with green eyes like that. "No. It doesn't. Wolves will always have enemies--humans who know too much and are afraid, so they strike out, or other wolves who greedily fight for power and control, or even wolves who lose all power and control and are so lost in the cage of their mind that they go feral." Cam took a breath and looked at the sky, resignation draping over his features. "There will always be an issue for Will to deal with. Always something ready to tear him to shreds."

Her brain, being the nice, considerate entity, decided to feed her flash images of a foreign wolf tearing Will apart and she unwillingly jerked back at the similarity of the scene and the dreams she'd been having. She put her hand to the dirt and scraped it up with her fingernails. Feel the Earth. You are here. You are in the present. And then finally, you are safe.

Safe. Because people like Will went out to fight for her.

"He's a protector." Harley wiped her dirty hand on her basketball shorts.

Cam chuckled humorlessly. "That guy was born a protector. Some wolves just are."

He settled back then and closed his eyes, basking in the small sliver of golden light peeking through the trees. His breath came out slowly, and Harley watched as the tension started to drain out of him. First in his shoulders, then down his arms, his neck, his torso. If his foot wasn't swaying to some imaginary beat, she'd have thought he fell asleep. She used that moment to really look at him. His hair had been swept back, as if he had run a comb through it and let the locks rest where they may. He had a strong jaw, but not so much it dominated over the rest of his features. With the broad shoulders and muscles threading through his frame, she had no doubt he'd make some woman a fine mate someday.

A mate. Harley wished she could have one of those.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves didn't wake up one morning, see their other half on the street, and form an instantaneous bond of love. No, they fell in love the way most humans do--through hard work, and lots of time spent together. A wolf had to really be sure that when they took a mate, that was who they wanted to spend their life with. Wolves mate for life. But, when wolves formed a bond and decided to become mates, the connection was something magical. Not starry-eyed, dreamy magical, but honest-to-God magic. The bond formed between mates literally connected the two. Similar to the pack web bond, a mate bond could share feelings between the two wolves, but also sentences. In the rarest case, wolves have been said to be able to share past memories.

Wolves could mate with humans, but the bond never formed. And while packs didn't outright shun a human living in a pack, there usually was unease, or sense of otherness. Wolves were primal creatures, ruled mostly by instinct, and it took a lot to ignore the instinct that came with humans. They were not wolves. Outsiders.

Harley didn't have a wolf. At least, not a physical one. She didn't get any qualities wolves got--speed, strength, increased senses. It made sense then that she wouldn't get the bond between mates either. Maybe, but unlikely. Subjecting someone to maybes and what-ifs would not be fair to a wolf deciding to make her his mate.

Cam though, she could see him being a wonderful mate. He was friendly, protective, had a sense of humor... He'd be right for a loving she-wolf.

The second she'd finished her stretches, Cam's eyes popped open. "Ready to go? I think Natalie was cooking up some grilled cheeses for lunch. Maybe we can steal a few before the masses come."

Her watch said lunchtime had a while yet. "Cam, it's only ten."

He lifted his shoulders. "By the time we get back it'll be ten thirty. That's prime grilled cheesin' time. Are you going to pass up a quality grilled cheese?"

She was hungry. But--

A branch snapped from the other side of the meadow.

Harley's entire body flipped, sudden alarm going through each of her senses. Within seconds, Cam whirled, pulled her behind him, and got into a fighting stance.

"Cam--" They were near the edge of the territory. Not at the edge, no. But close enough that if anything got past the patrols--ice shot down her spine.

Across the meadow, a bush rustled. A low growl.

Her heartbeat thrashed. It was the same. The snap of a twig, the bright sun, her guard down. All the same. She clutched at her butterfly necklace.

"Harley, I'm going to distract him." Cam barely muttered. "You go get help."

He'd pushed his back close enough to her front that she gripped his blue shirt with tight fingers. She wouldn't let go. Couldn't let go. "I'm not leaving you." As much as her body told her to run, despite her weakening muscles and the darkness coating the edge of her vision, she would not leave him.

She'd run last time. And look what happened.

The bush moved, then parted. A foreign wolf crept from hiding, his muzzle down. Teeth glinted against the sun, eyes sharp and focused.

"Harley--"

"I'm not leaving you."

The tan and white wolf approached slowly, intent clear. This wolf wouldn't let them go--not alive. The slow, slinking walk, the narrowed gaze...this was a hunter. She forced herself to look at it's eyes, to see the focus, but behind that alertness, nothing.

This wolf was feral. How did it get past the patrols?

Cam stepped back, and Harley mimicked him. He could go. He could run. He had the speed, the strength to fight his way free.

Harley had nothing. She was trapped, and painfully human.

In the distance, a single wolf howl echoed across the sky. Birds scattered--backup was coming. The patrols had noticed the breach.

The wolf's ears perked. He tilted his head to the side, no doubt catching something Harley couldn't, like the rhythm of wolf paws pounding on the dirt in the distance. Then he shook his head and the darkness faded from his eyes, replaced with confusion. Lost, this wolf had lost himself. He took a few skittering steps backward. His hide bumped into a large, unforgiving tree.

The wolf took one more look at Cam and Harley. And ran.