From a young age, Shan had been able to see into the future, in approximately two minute increments.

It was exhausting.

He couldn't see into the future in a conventional, psychic sense, no more than he could read minds, or do any of the other mystical things that were often ascribed to him. His gift, if it could be called that, was that he was highly perceptive, to the extent that very little escaped his notice. It followed that, being able to perceive so much, he could also perceive patterns, particularly the patterns of behavior that everyone, himself included, were bound by. And so it was that if a facial muscle twitched in a certain way, or if a particular word was used, the gears in Shan's mind would turn at a furious pace, rapidly driving forward towards a conclusion that was seldom wrong.

It had taken him years to hone his ability, not expanding it, but focusing it. As a child, it had been debilitating. In moments of frustration, his mother had often lectured him, urging Shan to stop his over-focusing, to see the forest and not just the trees. What she had never understood was that for Shan, a tree was not a tree. It was a hundred thousand different leaves, attached to a network of branches, encased in uniquely striated bark, secured to the ground by an unseen, but astoundingly complex web of roots, and that was just if you took the tree at face value, without considering its internal processes, or the ecosystems that relied on it—moss, insects, and birds, just to name a few. His mother had wanted him to see the forest, not understanding that he could see more in a single tree than she could in an entire mountain of them.

Yet, here he was. Not only had he come to make the forest his home, but he had amassed a pack comprised of thousands of members.

Thanks to his father, from whom he'd inherited his perception, Shan had learned to tune out the unnecessary. That, in itself, was a great feat because in order to do so, he first had to make a split-second judgment between the relevant and the extraneous. Once he had, he could laser focus on a few specific details, one half of his brain existing in the current moment, the other pushing forward to what would come next.

Given the barest amount of information, there was little he couldn't predict.

There were certain limitations. He had not known that Gareth's band would return late from their trip, but as soon as morning had come with no sign of them, he had known why. He also knew that Viper would try to use the humans they'd brought as an excuse for their lateness.

Whereas most of his senior pack mates had learned to lie by omission, Viper very often flirted with outright falsehoods, stretching the truth until it was just barely recognizable from reality. He sometimes let her get away with it, too. She was an excellent liar, which he admired in a subordinate. So long as her lies were cosmetic in nature and didn't begin to grow sloppy, he didn't much care. Lying was the nature of man—and Shan included his wolves in that blanket term. If he killed every person who lied to him, he would have no pack, because sooner or later, everyone would. He could not even punish everyone who would lie, lest he become a tyrant. All he could do was keep them on edge, wondering if he truly believed them.

Viper and Rosa stopped before him, two humans at their sides.

“We found these by The Point,” Viper said, motioning to the humans, a male and a female. “Put us at least a half day behind schedule.”

When Viper lied, she looked straight ahead at him, her gaze unfocused. As far as tells went, it was a good one because she typically focused on the bridge of his nose, so the difference in her gaze was subtle.

Of course, her efforts were squandered by Rosa. Always at her side, her friend couldn't lie, not even by association. The diminutive female stood with her shoulders hunched, eyes turned down to the ground, and her lips pressed tightly and trembling, as if trying to hold in a bird.

He would deal with them later.

Gareth joined the others, and Shan slid his gaze over him. In his usual manner, he paid attention to what might be relevant and discarded the rest. Gareth took in seething breaths. There was a purple bruise on his jaw. He was drenched with sweat in spite of the cool night. Shan searched for the injury and found it where his arm met his right shoulder blade. There was a distinct swelling. He had shifted, rather than waiting for the injury to heal.

Idiot.

West had already informed him that Gareth had fought with one of the humans, though he'd not had time to provide anymore details. Even if West hadn't told him, he would have known by the way no one had yet mentioned the injury. An attack by another pack, or by townspeople would have been cause for sounding the alarm. This injury had not just been to Gareth's arm, but to his pride. Predictably, as Shan surveyed the arm, Gareth was quick to cover it with his pelt.

Which human had injured one of his best fighters? He looked first to the male, who was gagged. A talker. And short, even for a human male. His body was rigid, shoulders squared in an attempt to appear strong. His fidgeting belied his efforts. Were the winds blowing in Shan's direction, he would have been buffeted by the scent of the male's fear.

Shan looked next to the female beside the male. She was the one West wanted as his mate. He hadn't said as much, but it had been clear in the way West had come to him moments earlier, failing to utilize their seconds of privacy to provide him with any useful details. Instead, he'd asked Shan to consider allowing him to take the smaller female back to the Scouts where he could keep an eye on her.

She wasn't gagged, either because she wasn't a talker, or because of West's interest in her. He couldn't entirely see the appeal, except that with her large ears and big eyes, she looked somewhat endearing. And, mouse-like. Her face was tear-streaked and her pants were wet from soiling herself. Her reddened eyes were imploring, and turned not to the male beside her, or even to Shan or West, but the the third human, who stood apart from the others.

The leader.

Shan took her in, not particularly surprised that she was a female, though the detail did stand out. Human females, at least in his experience, were not fighters, but negotiators. She was tall, easily as tall as a man. Her height should have made her ungainly, but there was something elegant in the shape of her long, leggy body and it made her build seem almost delicate. Her chin was tilted upwards. She was confident, or at least, she wanted to appear as such. Her hair was an unnatural blue. It had been dyed. A mark of rebellion, or a human fad he was not yet familiar with? Perhaps both.

He looked last at her eyes, as was habitual for him. He could discern so much from eyes, that he sometimes became absorbed in them, at the exclusion of all else.

What he didn't expect, was to find her appraising him right back, her eyes sweeping over him in a cool assessment. They lingered briefly on his arms, and then moved up to his eyes, where they stopped. She went still, and for an instant, he thought she was afraid. Then, she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes in challenge. Shan felt one corner of his mouth lift.

Hello.

He enjoyed strangers. Some, like the mousey female and her male companion were easy enough to figure out, typically within minutes of talking to them. Now and again, he could meet someone who was more enigmatic, someone that took him several days, perhaps even weeks to figure out. For a short while, some of the creeping banality would seep from his existence. He could already tell that this female would be one such person.

His lips flattened as Gareth stormed over, seizing the tall female by the arm and dragging her before Shan. He delivered a kick to the back of her legs, forcing her knees to buckle.

Shan felt the urge to admonish his beta. It happened sometimes that he felt the need to defend females, a byproduct of the human manners his father had instilled in him. It was his mother who had taught him not to mind the grievances of a woman, because any female worth her salt didn't need a man to do so.

This time, his mother's wisdom prevailed. The woman turned to snap a scathing look in Gareth's direction. Shan thought that if not for the gag, she might have bared her teeth. Gareth didn't notice, and for that, she was fortunate.

Gareth was the senior most member of the expedition, and so Shan addressed him, though he'd rather be dealing with West or Viper.

“Why are they bound?” Shan asked. “Were they carrying weapons? Did they attack you?”

“This one did,” Gareth spat, seizing the female by her bun of blue hair. “Jumped down on me from a tree and tried to snap my neck. I might have killed her, had she not been so easy to restrain.”

The female, who by rights should have been terrified by Gareth's handling of her, appeared only annoyed and rolled her eyes as Gareth spoke.

Rosa made a squeaking noise, the sound of someone starting to say something and then stopping halfway through the intention. Rosa could see the future as well, one in which Gareth dealt swift retribution on her for speaking out against him. Indeed, all of the expedition members, even West, remained silent.

Of course, Gareth was lying. It wasn't always easy to tell, because Gareth had the tendency to believe his own lies. As a general rule, Gareth lied whenever his pride was at risk of being injured. Shan tolerated it because he understood the need to protect one's own honor, and if he was little else, Gareth was loyal.

Shan asked, “Why did she attack you? And what happened to your arm?”

At this, Gareth predictably faltered. His lies never held up to questioning.

“I didn't bother asking her for a reason,” Gareth said. “She's a human.”

Shan almost didn't wait for him to finish. “Was not your mother a human? And her mother? And your father's mother?”

He could see Gareth growing flustered and knew that he wouldn't hold up against this line of questioning, especially with his injury, which must have hurt like hell. Shan motioned for West to clear the area, and West went forward, signaling for the congregants to stand and depart. One way or another, Gareth was going to make a fool of himself, and Shan could at least do him the favor of limiting his exposure.

As the last of the people filed from the clearing, Shan looked between the group before him and addressed them.

“Given that Gareth was so taken with the throes of battle, his accounting of the event may hold inaccuracies. Did anyone see anything different?”

He doubted any of them would skirt too close to the truth, not in Gareth's presence, but he had hopes that West would speak up. It was in moments like this that certain members of his pack could rise above their fear and begin asserting themselves against Gareth's stranglehold. Not many had done so, and most who did were soon broken by Gareth's retribution, but a select few had risen above, establishing themselves as dominant figures within the pack.

This was not West's moment.

His wolves were silent. Even the humans seemed to know better, aside from their fearless leader. The sound of her muffled vocalizations cut through the brief silence.

Shan asked, “You have something to add, human?”

Unlike Gareth, he didn't use the term scornfully. He was not sure what else to call her, as referring to her by her gender would sound patronizing no matter which term he used.

She issued another vocalization, this time nodding her head. Gareth tightened his grip on her hair, to the point that she winced.

“This one has a poisonous tongue,” Gareth spat. “Don't waste your time listening to anything she says.”

“Do you presume to tell me how to spend my time?” Shan asked. He was growing more irritated with Gareth by the second, and he made no effort to hide this as he said, “Remember your place. Release her, now.”

Gareth complied at once, though he couldn't resist giving her a push as he did so, forcing her down hard onto her knees. She gave him another scathing look, and this one, Gareth didn't miss.

Foolish human, Shan thought as he leaned over to remove the gag. Close up, he could smell her scent, and it caught him off-guard, his fingers pausing on the knots.

In ancient stories, gods would make women out of strange things, such as clays, soils, rocks, and bones. Had Shan sought to make a female from a collection of fragrances, choosing only those notes that appealed most highly to himself, he could not have created such a singularly appealing scent.

His mind, which typically made complex assessments in the span of a breath, dragged on for prolonged seconds as it parsed each element of her scent. Most dominant were patchouli, vetiver, and musk, three fragrances that would have been overpowering, had they not been softened by notes of bergamot, vanilla, and something fruity he could not readily identify.

Her gag momentarily forgotten, his hand moved from the knot to the top of her head. He pulled loose the elastic that held her bun in place, allowing her hair to spill free. Her hair was naturally dark, as evidenced by the gradient, light blue at the tips and dark, almost black at the roots. He twisted a lock of it around his finger, noting its soft and unusual texture. Then, he pulled it up to his nose and inhaled. He had expected to find that the fragrance was her hair, some sort of lingering shampoo or spray, but found only the faded smell of coconut.

Acutely aware of everyone watching his antics, Shan stopped short of pulling her into his lap for a more thorough inspection. He had already decided that there was no way a person could naturally smell so pleasing, and there had to be something on her somewhere, a lotion or spray, that could account for the smell. Later, he would find out what the fragrance was, and he would make certain to procure it in bulk.

He indulged himself in running his fingers through her hair, before gently twisting it and reapplying the elastic. Then he moved back to the knot of the gag. She stared up at him, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. Her eyes were almond-shaped, her irises a deep and inviting shade of blue. He didn't fail to notice the dilation of her pupils or the way her nostrils had flared when he'd first touched her. She was attracted to him.

Not surprising.

When the gag came off, words burst from her mouth as though the gag had been a dam holding them back. Her voice was raspy from disuse, her tone replete with righteous indignation, but the sound of it sent a prickling sensation up his spine.

“I told him we weren't there to fight. I warned him multiple times that I would defend myself if he attacked me. Yes, I laid him out and broke his arm, okay, fine. But I was defending myself. You can't punish me for defending myself.”

Shan tensed, preparing himself to block Gareth's strike, if necessary. A second later, Gareth's fist clenched, but it remained at his side as he glared down at the human, his breath still coming in heaves.

“Lying bitch,” Gareth said through clenched teeth.

She looked between Gareth's fist and his eyes and gave him a smug smile. “How about you untie me and say that again, hot shot?”

“Oh my God, can you please stop?” said the other human female in an urgent whisper.

“I could snap your neck right here and now and be done with you,” Gareth growled.

And Shan saw that he would, consequences be damned.

“I'm positively quaking with fear,” she flatly replied. “How about I give you a few days to go tend to that fucked up arm of yours, and then I'll let you try beating me up again. Maybe next time, you'll actually get a punch in before I—”

Whatever idiotic thing she was going to say next was muffled behind the gag as Shan replaced it. Had his arm not come between them when it did, he had no doubt that Gareth would have struck her in the proceeding moment. He kept his arm between them even after the gag was secured, lifting her up by the shoulders and placing her in front of West.

“Take this one back to my den before she gets herself killed. I'll be along shortly.”

He took one last look at her fierce blue eyes before West led her away. His gaze lingered on her retreating form, paying particular attention to the curves of her legs and backside.

Once she was gone from his sight, he took a minute to compose himself. He recognized that her scent had another quality, one that was all her own, that no perfume could bestow upon her. It tugged at his insides, in a way that was all-too familiar to him.

He wanted to mate with her.

Annoying as it was, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Not every female piqued his interests, not even most of them, but from time to time, one would come along that would cause the gulf between Shan and his wolf form to narrow. During those times, the urge to take a mate could become dangerously consuming.

It had been well over two decades since Shan had become capable of siring offspring, and a solid decade past the point when most males saw fit to take a mate. He was not old, and given his unique biological makeup, he could very well remain in his current state of vitality for many decades to come.

However, he couldn't dismiss his human blood. No matter how thin it might be, it could come back to strike at his longevity. If that were the case, he could have as few as another eight to ten years to reliably produce offspring. On the surface, it seemed like a generous amount of time, yet Shan knew all too well how quickly the years slipped away. He could remember being twenty-eight as if it was yesterday, and not a quarter of his life ago.

His pack mates were eyeing him speculatively, no doubt smelling his arousal. Only Gareth was oblivious, too wrapped up in his private rage to notice anything else. He paced back and forth, his left hand still fisted, while the right was limp at his side. He really needed to have that looked at.

“Gareth, calm yourself,” Shan said, mostly to redirect the focus of the others.

“She lied to you,” Gareth said. “Lied through her lying teeth. I could have killed her. I could have easily killed her.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Shan said. He didn't point out that Gareth faced easy opponents on a daily basis, though as of yet, none had succeeded in breaking his arm.

“What are your names?” Shan asked, startling the remaining humans.

The female gave a shaky reply. “I'm Jo-Joana. This is Ian, and my friend, she's...you're not going to hurt her, are you? Please don't hurt her, she really didn't do anything wrong. I swear, none of us did, aside from breaking the law coming to the reservation but I think that's something that should be handled by human authorities. If you take us to the nearest town, I swear, we'll turn ourselves in.”

As she spoke, Shan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He knew that the woman would give him any information he wanted with very little provocation, but at the moment, he did not have the patience to question her. His mind was already ahead of the present moment, stretching beyond the limits of his perception, to his arrival back at his den, where the blue-haired spitfire would be waiting.

Sound judgement told him that he should interrogate both of the humans, and then find out if their stories aligned with the third's. But in a rare moment of impulsivity, he decided against it. He could compensate by thoroughly questioning one human, and then conferring with the keepers of the others.

Shan said, “Take the male back to your camp, Gareth. And then go straight to Gwen. Listen to and obey her, otherwise you're going to lose that arm.”

“If I lose it, I'm taking hers as recompense.”

Shan waved a hand to dismiss him, knowing that the only option was to disengage. He then ordered Oslo to bring the female to West's camp, and she went without further protest.

As soon as Gareth had cleared the area, Rosa spoke up in her mumbling way.

“She is a very good fighter. I've never seen anyone fight like her, not in real life, anyway. It was like she knew what Gareth was going to do before even he did. Kind of like...” Her eyes lifted to meet Shan's briefly, before skittering back down to look at her toes.

Shan looked to Viper, beckoning her to give her account.

“Every time Gareth went in for an attack, she would move just far enough away to avoid it,” Viper said. “She was waiting for her opening, and when he tried jumping at her, she sidestepped him and...” She paused to laugh, looking over her shoulder as she did so. In a lower voice, she went on, “she pulled him in, knocked him on the ground, and pinned his arm behind him. Dumbass didn't realize what she was doing. When he tried to roll over, he snapped his own arm.”

Though Viper had painted a clear picture for him, Shan had difficulty picturing how a human female, so slight of build, could have taken down one of his largest males. He wished he could have seen the fight for himself.

“And is it true that she attacked him first?”

Viper scratched her head, her gaze going unfocused. “I wasn't really all that close.”

“Enough equivocating,” he said firmly.

Rosa was quick to answer, “No. He tried to take her from behind and she fought back. Before that, she was saying something about them being researchers. Later, she said they came to share information with our pack. She asked for you by name.”

That, Shan believed, was called 'burying the lead.'

He leaned forward. “How did she know my name?”

The females exchanged looks.

Viper said, “She said something about having informants among our kind. We didn't ask her much. She has a mouth on her, as you've seen. I had West gag her before she got herself killed.”

“She had drugs,” Rosa blurted.

Viper shook her head. “Just some pot. Well, a lot of pot, actually. Can I keep it?”

“I don't care,” he said. “Did she have any weapons, aside from the knife?”

“No, but she did have these.” Rosa extracted an iPad and a solar charger. “Can I keep them?”

“Not a chance,” he said, taking them from her.

He pressed the home button on the iPad and it lit up, displaying a picture of the three humans at some sort of bar or restaurant. They looked much the same, except that they were smiling in earnest and appeared far less bedraggled, and the blue-haired female was sporting hair that was pink and purple.

He touched his finger to her face, tracing the curve of her jawline, and then swiped. A password form appeared. He stared past it, still looking at the female.

“How was the movie?” he asked absently.

He heard Viper swallow. “Sir?”

“You heard me.”

There was a pause, and then Rosa said, “It was scary. There was a clown that ate children.”

Viper spoke over her, scrambling to explain. “I was going to tell you about the movie, it just hadn't come up yet, what with the humans being here and all. It didn't put us much behind schedule. West had some things to do in the mine, and you know how miners are about females coming down...”

Shan stood, tucking the iPad under his arm. He placed a hand on Viper's cheek, or more aptly, on the side of her head, given the size of his hand.

“You are getting too comfortable in your lies. Don't think I haven't noticed. Next time, ask.”

She nodded, dumbly. “Yes, sir.”

He patted her face. “Good.”

There was nothing more to be said. He could hear them softly bickering in his wake, but tuned them out, already knowing what each would say. His thoughts once again pulled forward, towards the human that was waiting for him.