Chapter One

Route 2, Montana

August, Present Day

At midnight, seven hours before dawn, Hayil Rufus Rose drove out of Browning to catch the sunrise at Apgar Lookout in Glacier National Park. This was a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Montana. She didn’t want to miss a thing, even if it meant skipping a practice run for the Boston Marathon.

Plus, she was anxious to see the sunrise at Apgar Point after all she’d read about the view. That would be her reward for overcoming the physical and emotional challenge of the hike to get there.

Lights from intermittent gas stations and fast-food restaurants broke up the darkness, but the road called her into the mountains. Her headlights strobed over the pine trees lining the highway and the white line dividing the lanes. Trucks blew past her in the opposite direction, shaking her SUV with their tailwinds.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted a raccoon foraging in the litter along the side of the highway.

“Stay away from the road,” she yelled. “You’ll get hit by a truck.”

Using the instructions from the trail blog she followed, she took the Apgar horse corral road, crossed a bridge, and drove a bit farther.

She parked next to a battered pickup truck. Odd. Had it been abandoned here? Or was somebody ahead of her on the trail? She stared up at the sky, a velvet-black expanse, the blanket of the universe sprinkled with bright white diamonds. From tens of thousands of years in the past, spears of light reached out to Earth from the Milky Way. A star shot across the night sky, and she made a wish that she wouldn’t meet any aggressive bears, moose, mountain lions, or goats on her ascent.

She’d scoped out the area the day before and had stopped for fuel at the Lake McDonald Gas-N-Grub. The owner had warned her not to hike alone, insisting it was too risky.

Had she been a normal person, she would have agreed with the guy at the gas station. She could do this on her own, she knew she could. And, if she was being honest, maybe she needed to prove to herself that she could take risks outside of a controlled environment.

She had the advantage of excellent night vision—super vision compared to other humans. Plus, she possessed an almost uncanny ability to connect with most wild and domestic animals. Hayil mentally grimaced. She could also thank her grandmother for her long overdue ability to shift. What would it take to trigger her body into the lupine version of herself? Was it like a growth spurt that hadn’t hit her body yet? Or was Hayil destined to remain the one person in her pack who wasn’t able to wolf out?

Once again, her mother’s constant refrain came back to her: “You’re a late bloomer, like your grandmother. She was older than you when she shifted. All in good time. You’ll see.”

Sure, Mom.

Hayil knew her mother wanted the best for her, but found her cheerfulness a bit forced. Beneath her mother’s optimism, Hayil sensed an undercurrent of concern about her thirty-year-old daughter’s ability to integrate into the red wolf clan. This missing piece of Hayil’s identity called to her like a siren’s song, demanding she complete herself. Would she ever be a true part of the pack? Or would she forever be the unmated one? What then? She was an anomaly, something the pack didn’t tolerate well. Tradition dictated that if a pack member didn’t shift by the end of their third decade, they were banished.

A chilling thought struck Hayil mid-stride.

If I don’t shift this year, will they force me out of the pack?

They were the only family she’d ever known. Her mother would fight for her to stay and would probably win. But at what cost?

Hayil would be an outcast. She’d never be invited to pack meetings, deliberations or celebrations. Those were reserved for shifters. If she married a non-shifter, the pack would drive her out, of that she was sure. What if her offspring were able to shift? Would that make things better? Would the pack let her stay then? It wasn’t as if she could go to a genetic counselor and ask for a DNA test for werewolves.

The thought of losing her extended family through no fault of her own made her gulp back tears. Angry at herself for allowing her thoughts to go down that dark rabbit hole, Hayil reminded herself she was a scientist. Review the facts, not the fears.

Fact one: Grandma had been in labor with Hayil’s mother when she’d shifted for the first time.

Fact two: The majority of the pack members had shifted when they’d hit puberty.

Fact three: Hormones! It had to be related to hormones! The rush of hormones at puberty and the flood of pregnancy hormones had to be related somehow.

Hayil was long past puberty and the associated mood swings and acne, thank you very much. She was not ready to be pregnant. For starters, she would need a romantic partner in her life. She’d had zero luck on that score so far.

“I still have time. It’s not too late. I won’t give up hope.”

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Hayil double-checked her wild animal deterrents. All in place. Then she tugged her knit cap down over her ears and pulled her hands-free headlamp into place. She zipped her fleece jacket against the breeze and adjusted her twenty-five-pound backpack. With an altitude gain of almost nineteen hundred feet, she planned to take her time, pacing herself for the strenuous four-hour hike. She grasped her lightweight hiking poles and took a last look up at the stars. Time to see that spectacular view at the top.

As promised by the trail blog, the dirt path was well maintained. The morning air was cold and crisp, layered with the woodsy scent of damp earth and pine needles. An owl hooted, and Hayil spotted movement in the brush between the thick pines beside the trail. Her headlamp reflected in the eyes of small critters, all of whom skittered deeper into the woods.

For three hours, all she heard was the crunch of her hiking boots on dirt and gravel, the rasp of her own breaths, the glug of water when she drank and the jingle of her bear bells. She looked at yet another incline on the trail and decided she needed a hiking song for inspiration.

“Country roads, take me home,” she sang, belting out “Mountain Mama”—and something crashed through the bushes ahead on the trail. Something large.

She froze.

An enormous black bear stood on its hind legs at the top of the hill.

Shit, shit, shit. If only I could shift, shift, shift!

The animal had its back to her, but if it got her scent, it could turn and charge at her in a flash.

Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she placed her hand on the bear spray.

A breeze sprang up, making her eyes water with its intensity. The good news was that it meant she was downwind of the bear. The bad news was that the air smelled like a wet dog had rolled in a dead animal. The worst news was that the bear turned and looked right at her.

Omigod. It’s not a bear. What the heck is it?

Bigger than a gorilla. Much, much bigger. It had to be a man dressed in a furry black snowsuit. A gigantic man, to be sure. Leathery skin and pitch-black eyes peeked out from beneath his hood.

Her feet cemented to the ground and her knees, fists, and jaw locked so tight, her head ached. For crying out loud. I got up at the butt-crack of dawn, drove hours in the dark, and hiked all the way up here. I’m not missing the sunrise.

“Hey, mister!” she shouted. “You on your way to Apgar Lookout, too?”

He cocked his head and stared at her.

Her heart boomed in her chest.

One beat.

A bird whistled.

Two beats.

A barn owl screeched.

Three beats.

Please, please, please…

He shook his head, turned, and lumbered into the woods.

She released her breath and inhaled the pungent air. Shaking, Hayil waited until the crashing of bushes and snapping of twigs receded in the distance before taking a step on rubbery legs.

Maybe I should have paid more attention to the local’s warning about hiking alone.

“Country roads, take me home,” she croaked. Anxious to put distance between herself and the strange man, she gripped her hiking poles and pushed onward.

Think of it as a sprint to the finish line, Hayil. You can do this.

As the sky turned from black to dark gray to light gray, the lookout tower appeared over the crest. She quickened her pace and her breath came in shallow gasps.

Almost there!

Foot on the first step, she closed her eyes, put her head down, and gulped for air.

Someone touched her on the shoulder.

Poles flailing, she screamed, stumbled backward off the step, and landed on her butt.

“Whoa! Take it easy!” A tall man with sparkling hazel eyes, cheekbones that could slice bread, and long, dark braids put his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She was too young for a heart attack, but Hayil believed she might have come close. “Thought. You. Were. Him.”

“Him?”

Trying to communicate the size of the huge man on the trail, she raised one hand and pointed at the sky. “Man.”

He frowned. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Where. Did. You. Come. From?”

He pointed past the steps. “I was standing on that outcropping, taking in the view, when I heard you huffing and puffing.”

“Wanted. To. See. Sunrise.”

“The air is thinner up here. Stay down. Catch your breath.” He looked past her. “Where are your hiking buddies?”

He’s going to think I’m an idiot.

She shook her head.

“You’re alone? On this trail?”

“Ha.” Her breathing finally returned to normal. “You say that like I’m crazy.”

“Are you?”

“After today, I’m inclined to say yes.” As she rose to her feet, he offered her his hand. She waved it away. “Where are your hiking buddies?” And the rest of your clothes, she wanted to say. Despite the frigid air, he wore olive-drab cargo shorts. His only concession to the cold appeared to be a red and brown geometric-patterned jacket.

“I was born in this area,” he said. “I know this trail like the back of my hand.”

“Since you’re an expert, can you tell me if it’s normal to see hairy giants in the woods?”

He shrugged and looked off in the distance. “That’s what some people say.”

“He scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Consider it a learning experience.”

“I guess.” Her stomach growled loudly enough for both of them to hear.

“Sounds like you need a bite to eat. I have some protein bars. Happy to share.”

She jerked a thumb at her backpack. “Me too. Care to join me in a sunrise breakfast?”

Surprise crossed his face and he nodded. “I’d like that. Let’s start over, shall we?” He extended his hand. “I’m Will Penn.”

“Hayil Rufus Rose.” Hayil gave him a firm grip in return—and lost her breath again. Her heart raced—and not from the hike. Heat coiled in her belly, and a primal urge to move closer to this man, to breathe in his scent, nearly took over. Every inch of her body tingled with recognition—but of what? Who is he? She blew out a slow breath.

Why do I feel like we’ve met before?

As if wondering the same thing, Will held onto her hand a beat too long, his gaze boring into her. At last, he released her and motioned to her to follow him up the steps. “Best place to see the sunrise is right here.”

She set her backpack down, pulled out a water bottle and took a deep swig. She offered him a protein bar, which he took. Hayil leaned on the railing and admired the view, conscious of his presence and his woodsy aroma. Aftershave, soap, or him?

You came here for the view—not a guy.

A panorama of snowcapped mountains sprawled before her. Below, mist hovered over Lake McDonald, and pine trees swayed and whispered in a susurration of anticipation of the sunrise. As the sun crested the horizon, red, yellow, and orange flared into a blinding fireball. The ineffable beauty of the moment took her by surprise, and tears stung her eyes. She swiped at her cheek. “Thanks for the show.”

“It never gets old.”

Hayil snapped a series of photos on her phone, rotating it to catch the entire landscape. She stopped when Will entered the frame. She never took someone’s picture without their permission.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you?”

“Thank you,” she said. “I suck at selfies.”

“You got it.”

She handed him her phone, leaned back on the railing, and grinned.

“Perfect.” He handed the phone back to her. “Ready to post on your socials.”

“Nope.”

Will cocked his head. “Most people would plaster these photos everywhere.”

“Not if they want to keep their security clearance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

“Sometimes. Most days, it’s hours of tedious work interrupted by occasional alarms.”

Will chuckled. “Sounds like my job.”

Four hikers appeared below. One man turned and yelled at another, “Dammit, we missed the sunrise! I told you we should have started earlier.”

She sighed. “I think that’s my signal to go back.”

“Want company?”

Will stirred up unfamiliar feelings. He wasn’t creepy, not like that weird man on the trail. Far from it. Despite the initial jump scare, Will Penn was a pleasure to be with. And easy on the eyes. But there was something she could not put her finger on. If her family had been around, they would have called it her animal instinct. Then it hit her. She felt safe with him.

“You sure you’re ready to leave?” she asked.

He side-eyed the quarrelsome quartet. “Very.”

“One condition.”

“What’s that?”

“No complaining about my singing.”

Will smiled. “I won’t complain about yours if you don’t complain about mine.”

For the rest of the morning, they hiked, sang, and chugged water at hourly intervals. Between tunes they talked about where Hayil was from, her previous job, and why she was on vacation in Montana. In return, Will told her a bit about his parents and siblings.

“My sister, Susan, is the principal of Browning Middle School. Every student knows and respects her. She’s even gotten calls from parents asking how she does it.” He shook his head. “She never raises her voice, but you know when you are in trouble.”

“My friend, Ashley, teaches biology there,” Hayil said. “She loves Susan.”

“I’m planning to visit Susan at school tomorrow. Maybe I’ll see your friend.”

“You can’t miss her. Her hair is streaked with purple. She’s a big Ravens fan.”

“I’m more of an Arizona Cardinals guy, with Big Red. But I respect Edgar, Allen, and Poe.”

“Baltimore’s most famous author and our team mascots.” Hayil paused. “What about you? Do you work in Browning?”

“I hope to,” he said. “I’m trying to recruit a specialized team for a major project.”

“Good employees are hard to find.”

“And to keep, based on what you told me about your last place.”

“Hallelujah!” She pointed at the parking lot. “We made it!”

“And it’s still light out,” he added.

Hayil unlocked her car and tossed her backpack on the passenger seat. “Thanks for keeping me company and for not criticizing my one-woman show.”

“You reached for the high notes on some of those songs,” he said. “I was surprised no wolves howled back at you.”

“Hey, I thought we had a deal!”

“It was only binding during the hike, not after.”

She shook her head. “Fair enough.”

“The casino has karaoke on Friday nights.”

Hayil snorted. “Do I look like someone who wants to be humiliated in front of a crowd? Bad enough I had an audience of one today.”

“It’s a small town and more of a biggish group than a crowd. You’d be in good company. Lots of fun.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes, I am.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Too soon?”

“What will people say?”

“My mother would say we don’t know your family, Ms. Rose.”

“My mother would tell me that I’m not getting any younger, Mr. Penn.”

“Is that a yes?”

“No karaoke.”

He snapped his fingers. “Darn. I had my heart set on hearing you sing ‘I Will Survive.’”

“That is my theme song, but no, I will not be headlining at the bar. Ever.”

“How about dinner on Friday? There’s a good steak place in Cut Bank.”

“Sounds great,” she said. “Text me the details.”

Will raised his chin. “You got it.”

As she drove away, Hayil tingled with anticipation for her date with this funny, handsome guy. The day had gone from ordinary to extraordinary in the space of a few hours.

The hairy giant popped into her mind, and she shuddered. Don’t be so dramatic, Hayil. He wasn’t a monster. Probably just a camper, or one of those preppers, living off the grid.

***