For the rest of the day I stew over what happened; the audacity of that infuriating male telling me to 'hush'. Is he still threatening me to be quiet about what I know about him? Was he the one who growled?

Why is he even here?

By the end of the day I'm not as stiff, avoiding getting knocked around anymore probably helped a little with that. Marie meets me after school and we walk to work, talking about the day's assignments. Well, that's what I try to talk about, while she attempts to steer the conversation to the party she's wanting at her place.

"Shouldn't you ask your parents first?"

My continued attempts to come up with some reason it has to be canceled has yet to prove fruitful, but I'm still hopeful.

"Already done. I texted my mom in Chem Lab. She's been in a rut lately, so she's actually looking forward to helping out. My dad will be at work."

Well, so much for that.

We get to Bettie's shortly after, where the old woman gives me some weird looks when seeing the few marks that are still left over. I explain it away as 'Werewolf stuff during the full moon', and she leaves it at that, seeming not to want to know any more, but gives warning not to bring any of it here. Since that's the last thing I'd ever want, I have no problem agreeing.

Running a hand over my arm, my fingers play over a patch of skin that has me looking down. The scar is small, barely there now thanks to our healing abilities, but it's the memory behind it that has my brows furrowing. The gash I'd received from Faust, that he then tended to. Catching myself rubbing fingertips over it, I pull away quickly and go about getting to work.

The day is slow, as is usual, but it allows for plenty of time to get homework finished. Once it is, I find my mind wandering back to the nights of the full moon, and what the Alphas had shared with everyone. The land that was bought, how it borders another Pack's, who also had intent to buy it. 'The Midnight Fang Pack', is what Alpha Kristos had dubbed them.

Since I don't deal in Pack affairs, I don't know too much of what goes on politics wise, and while hearing of other Packs isn't uncommon, being so near them kind of is. Hearing about three in one area isn't something I've ever heard of happening before. Then again, it's not like anyone really talks to me about things.

Biting my lip as I tap my pen on the counter, my gaze roams for a moment before landing on a few of the smaller boxes of restock that Marie is working on. Brows furrowing, I look to the area where the maps are, then to the computer. Alpha Kristos had bought some maps of an area before revealing what was going on, could they be linked? Where was that location?

Bringing up the forms on-screen by memory and doing a more in-depth search, the area is a mountainous region far to the north, spanning thousands of acres of forest. Frowning, I look up the others that had been bought with the same order. They too show the surrounding area and its terrain.

The Packs bought this land? Why? Why would they risk trouble with a neighboring Pack over land so far away? Faust had also wanted those maps. Did he want them for the same reason? Is he part of this other Pack?

In my attempt to get answers, all I end up with is more questions.

My search gets halted when customers come in. The first pair are human, a couple of Bettie's regulars, the one to follow after them, however, isn't. The two older women are greeted warmly and given the usual mantra of 'If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask" before I turn to the male, my smile wilting around the edges.

Looking to be in his early twenties, eyes are closed and his nose is in the air, inhaling deeply of the currents around him, not even attempting to disguise what it is he's doing. Standing well over six-foot, his appearance isn't so much 'unkept' so far as 'rumpled'. Even from where I'm standing, several feet away, I can smell the wildness on him.

Long, shaggy hair tops his head, looking to be some kind of brown, while a very light shadow of facial hair darkens his cheeks and chin. His T-shirt and jeans look old, wrinkled something fierce, and stained in small splotches. Untied boots are on his feet, tightened enough just to stay on, and I'd be willing to bet he isn't wearing any socks underneath, let alone underwear.

His bared arms are covered in old and new scars, a few can be seen at his throat as well. Nostrils flare as he takes in the room, mapping it just by scent alone. Goosebumps raise along my spine as I feel my hackles try to rise, heart rate speeding up. This man isn't from my Pack, and he doesn't carry the scent of the Grotto Falls wolves.

He's an unknown, and by the looks of it, a Loner.