The Gray Backs sat around a communal fire pit in front of a semi-circle of trailers. They wore light jackets to ward off the cool March night and sat in brightly-colored plastic chairs. Easton wasn’t here. Well, good. This would be easier without him watching because she wasn’t here to see Easton right now. She was here to talk to his alpha, Creed.
The Gray Backs had gone quiet by the time she stumbled out of her car. “Hi!” she said, much more high pitched than she’d intended as she flapped her hand in a wave.
“Ha! Pay up, Griz,” Willa said, pointing to Matt.
Matt rolled his eyes and handed Willa a wadded up five dollar bill from his pocket.
Okaay.
A yipping attack dog the size of a soccer ball charged Aviana and bounced around her feet, barking. It was brown and white, and someone has shaved a mohawk down the entire length of his back and head. She would’ve been more intimidated if he didn’t lick her ankles between barks.
“Peanut Butter Spike. Get down!” Gia commanded.
Aviana stepped gingerly around the yapper and opened the back door, then struggled under the weight of a massive box of beer cans. She hefted it toward the Gray Backs, breathing heavily as she stumbled forward, trying not to step on the tiny dog circling her feet. She set the gift on the ledge of the brick fire pit. “I did research on lumberjacks, and the Internet said you were hairy, wore flannel, belched a lot, and drank lots of beer.”
Willa grabbed her stomach and cackled. “What site were you looking on?”
“The first one that came up on the results.” Good God, she wished she could lift her gaze from the ground right now. “Anyway, I brought you this.” She pushed the box forward, but it only moved by an inch. Silly, weak bird arms. Peanut Butter Spike probably could’ve moved it more.
“I like her,” Jason said, ripping into the side and pulling a blue can out.
“How did you find out where we live?” Creed asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Oh. Uuuh, it said it on Jason’s social media pages.” Had it? She couldn’t remember. She’d known they lived here because she flew over it every day, but they didn’t need to know that she was a quiet observer to their lives.
“Dude,” Matt said, leveling Jason with a glare.
“Like you can talk! You were the king of oversharing before you deleted all your pages. Piss off, man. It’s not like I ever thought anyone would be able to actually find the trailer park. We’re out in the wilderness. I assumed GPS would laugh at anyone who tried to get up the back roads in these mountains.”
Creed was glaring at him with a tired, not amused expression.
Jason shrugged. “Fine. I’ll take any mention of our address off my pages.”
Creed swung his attention to Aviana, who was feeling mighty guilty for outing Jason to save herself right about now. “What are you doing here?”
Aviana lifted her chin and tried to hold his gaze, but failed. Fuck it all, just spit it out then. “I’m here to ask you for Easton.”
Jason choked on his beer and spewed it into a fine mist in the air.
“What do you mean, ask for Easton?” Creed asked over the coughing.
She inhaled deeply and said, “I’m here to ask your permission to court Easton.”
“Explain.”
Aviana held onto the side of the waist-high, bricked-in fire pit to steady her wobbly legs and swallowed hard. “I want to date him with the intention of becoming his mate.”
“That’s not how we do things here. Mates are chosen freely.” Creed looked her up and down as his nostrils flared. “You smell like terror. I know Easton. I don’t think you are it for him. He isn’t made for a mate. I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”
“Aw, piss off, Creed,” Willa muttered. She pitched her voice up and yelled, “Beaston!”
“Willa,” Creed warned.
“As Second, I veto your bullshittery. She likes him, she brought us beer, and she won me five fuckin’ dollars.” Willa cocked her head and her eyebrows jacked up. “Winner, winner, werebear dinner.”
“Second, Willa. Second. Not alpha. I’m alpha, and I say she isn’t going to be safe around Easton. I’m all for Easton finding someone, but she’s human, and he’s…well…Beaston.”
“He hasn’t killed Gia yet,” Willa argued, pointing to Creed’s mate.
Creed looked at Gia in disbelief. “I’m not the bad guy in this. I’m trying to save her life.”
“He won’t hurt me,” Aviana murmured. She would ignore the slice under her arm that was just now scabbing over.
“Baby,” Gia said rubbing Creed’s arm. “I know you mean well, but Aviana is asking your permission to court him out of respect. It’s not really up to you.” She nodded to the man limping toward them from the tree line. “It’s up to him.”