Chapter 2

When Amara entered Murphy’s Tavern, she weaved her way through the many round tables and upturned chairs, making a beeline for Mitchell. He had been her best friend for years, but lately, things seemed a little strained between them.

To be honest, Amara couldn’t really blame him. For so long, it had been just the two of them. They had their own Sunday night ritual of Chinese food and a movie, along with their weekly, Monday morning hikes. And yet, since she had begun dating Nova, and Mitch had started seeing Zoe, they really hadn’t done any of that. She couldn’t even remember the last time they had hung out just the two of them. Maybe that’s what they needed to do to work some of the weirdness out. They needed to get back to doing things just the two of them. Well, at least sometimes.

“Hey,” Amara said, setting her coat on the bar. Taking a box from the floor, she set it on the counter and started unloading bottles of vodka.

Mitch looked over at her and instantly brightened. “Hey, Deputy,” he greeted her, his muscular arms straining under the weight of his own crate. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“Oh, hardy har, har. Very funny.” She rolled her eyes, but Amara couldn’t help but smile. “Last I checked, I worked here. Has that changed since I became a cop?” The look in her eyes was unmistakably a dare.

Smirking, Mitch shook his head. “Hey, I warned you what would happen. Didn’t I tell you? Zoe took your place.” Laughing now, he came over and began setting bottles on shelves, the two of them working shoulder to shoulder.

This is nice, Amara thought. This felt like old times. And if it was old times, she would be able to ask about his relationship, right? “So,” she started, feeling like she was about to dive into the abyss. “How are things with you and Zoe? Getting any better lately? I know you said a few weeks ago that things between the two of you were strained.” She waited a beat or two for him to answer. When he didn’t, she set the bottle down and turned to look at him. “So?”
Silence. Then, finally, Mitch cleared his throat. “They’re good, Mara. Why do you ask? I like her a lot, but she’s, well, she’s still Zoe.”

Amara chuckled. Zoe Hamilton was definitely a category in herself, that was for sure. Though she was beautiful, and actually fairly smart, she was known around town more for being a hot mess than anything else. She could frequently be found on a bar stool at Murphy’s, taking shots or drinking vodka tonics. It wasn’t uncommon for Amara to load her drunken friend into a cab and take her home to tuck her safely into bed. Thankfully, that was Mitch’s job now, but still; better him than her.

It was no secret that Zoe and Amara didn’t get along. The entire town knew they’d fallen out of sorts and become more frenemies than anything else over the years. She had no delusions about the reason either. When they were fifteen, Amara, Zoe, and their friend Becca, were walking down the street one night when they were attacked by a group of wolves. Shifters, actually, from the Valley Clan. Led by none other than the infamous Kal Vann.

It had been Nova and Nemoy who had saved them. They had come racing down from whatever rooftop they had been keeping watch on, and fought off the shifters. Zoe had been knocked out from the start. One of the wolves was on top of her preparing to rip into her throat when Nemoy had shown up, though he’d almost been too late for Becca. She’d survived, thank God, but she now had to walk with a cane.

Amara, on the other hand, had been chased down the street. Kal had targeted her specifically, and wasn’t about to let her go. She had a lump of scar tissue down the length of her collar bone to prove it. It was Nova that had come after them and forced Kal off her, saving her life. For years afterward, she thought the image of the boy standing over her had been a dream.

That is, until he walked back into her life a decade later. She still couldn’t believe he had been taking care of her for almost half of her life.

Zoe, however, hadn’t had someone looking out for her. No one except Amara, really. And for some reason, Zoe had always resented Amara’s protectiveness. She had started drinking and going after boys and, over time, the two girls had drifted apart. Becca was the only thing tying them together. Nothing had really changed since they were teenagers. The only difference was that now it was legal for Zoe to drink.

“I saw Becca the other day,” Amara said to Mitch. “And she, uh, mentioned that things between you and Zoe were pretty difficult.” But hadn’t he just said things were going just fine? Maybe Becca was just imagining things. Zoe did tend to overreact about…well, everything.

Mitchell shrugged. “I don’t know. Yeah, maybe, I guess. But I mean, come on, it’s Zoe. We always fight. She’s pretty intense.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Amara bit her lip. “But maybe it’s something more than that? I don’t know.” When Mitch just gaped at her, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m just worried, is all,” she told him. “I really just want you to be happy.”

“I know.” He wrapped an arm briefly around her shoulders and squeezed. “And I am…for the most part. But hey, thanks for being there for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she nudged him with her shoulder. “Of course.” An awkward silence fell between them for a moment or two. “Hey, you know what we haven’t done in a while?” she asked, hoping to break the silence. “We haven’t had our movie night. What do you say, huh? Sunday night, you and me, Chinese and an action flick?”

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I think I’d really like that. It’s been a while.”

“Good.” She smiled back at him. “It’ll be nice to be able to make fun of you for not knowing how to use chopsticks again.”

With a smirk, Mitch chucked a towel in her face. “Shut up, Townsend.”

By the time Amara got home, she was absolutely exhausted. Pulling her truck into the driveway, she cut the engine and opened the door. She all but dragged her tired body up onto her porch. Unlocking her door, she walked into her house. And froze.

Lying on her dining room table was the long stem of a deep purple orchid, bound by a silver ribbon to folded note.

Flowers. Somebody had come into her house and left flowers on her table. Had her secret admirer finally crossed the line into stalker?

Forcing herself to cross the threshold, she went to the table and picked up the flower, the note dangling by the ribbon. With a shaking hand, she opened the note and read. She let out a visible sigh of relief. It was from Nova.

They’ve finally set a date. I will pick you up tomorrow night at six. The first trial begins at sunset.

The first trial. The pack had decided they could move forward with the first trial?

Amara pressed a hand to her chest. It was happening. If they got through the trials, they would be allowed to get married.

Still glowing, she changed into shorts and a tee shirt and crawled into bed, ready to settle in with a good book. She’s been reading for maybe fifteen minutes, about to nod off, when the phone rang. Groggy, she picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?” Amara said again. Was there something wrong with the line? No, she could tell someone was there. “Hello? Look, I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing.” Still, no one answered. Disgusted, Amara hung up the phone, slamming the receiver down in the cradle.

It was probably just a wrong number. Maybe a kid pulling a prank. Probably something completely harmless. And yet, she slept with her lamp on for the rest of the night.