The first week of October the email went out asking anyone interested in working their heats to sign up. I hit the YES button so fast my finger almost went through the screen of my phone. Please, please, please, please.

It was something of a lottery system. Limiting the supply kept November special and made the word of mouth travel that much farther. If we could have set up hotels outside the enclave, we’d have been rolling in money as tourists came from all over to sample the ‘insatiable shifters’. But we were bound by the Segregation Laws that made it a federal felony to be outside the enclave during the curfew hours, so the hotel money rolled into the city over an hour away, while we did all the work for it.

By the third week of October, I was going lunar waiting to hear back, checking my email twenty times a day and moaning to Ma when there wasn’t an answer yet. Which she dealt with the way all mothers did, by either giving me an errand to do or sending me off to find some friends I could send lunar instead with my whining. Which, I knew, was exactly the kind of treatment I deserved.

It was probably asking too much to get picked for this year. I’d only just graduated to the blue, I’d only been working the front of house since last May. The slots usually went to the older, more experienced shifters, because working when your heat was on you meant you might take chances you shouldn’t just to get your own itches scratched. Older workers could think through their heats—not all of us younger ones were able to do that yet.

“You’ll be fine,” Ma told me while we made pierogis to freeze against what we both hoped would be a busy November. “You’re my son and an omega. But if they do give you a slot, you and I will be having a few talks beforehand.”

“I know. But what if they think I’m too young?” I folded the dough around the filling and pinched the edges together. “Remember what happened with Rafaella two years ago?” I set the finished pierogi aside and reached for another thumb-full of filling.

“Rafaella was very pretty and very dedicated and absolutely not level-headed enough to deal with it when her heat came in stronger than she’d expected,” Ma said firmly. “You are not like that.”

I protested some more, mostly because I just wanted the reassurance, but I thought maybe Ma was right. I’d never had the crazy heats that some of my friends had, with the moaning and pacing and never-ending self-pleasuring that sometimes went so far as to end up with them in medical. I’d be fine.

If they picked me.

“Let’s get these finished,” Ma said. “I want to go down to the community complex and see a movie with that reprobate father of yours, if I can pry him away from his office. Did you want to come?”

I shook my head. “I might have an early night. Can I borrow some of that oil-conditioner for my hair? It’s feeling a little dry.”

“Sure. You can borrow the blue face mask too, if you want. Xino texted earlier to say he wouldn’t be back until late, and I imagine your Da and I can pawn your little sister off on your aunt for the night.

Svetlana would love that—she had a terrible crush on our cousin. And if my brother had texted to say he was going to be late, it probably meant he wouldn’t be home at all. “Thanks, Ma.”

She smiled, but it was that mother kind of smile, a sort of world-weary, some-day-you’ll-understand type of smile. “You need to relax, Salem. They’ll send the notifications out soon.”

“Yeah.” I dropped another finished pierogi in the bowl. “How many more of these darn things do we have to make?”

Ma laughed. “You’ll be glad of them when you’re staggering home in November, exhausted and starving.”

“Yeah,” I agreed and reached for another pinch of dough. Please, please, please, please.

I was naked in the bathtub, my face covered in blue goop, my hair soaked in oil, and in the middle of a joking text argument over alpha ‘attributes’ with my only omega friend Galen, when the email came in. I nearly dropped the phone in the water.

Please.

I hesitated with my finger over the notification, then closed my eyes and opened it.

We are pleased to offer you one of the November positions for this year. Should you have changed your mind since your application, please let us know as soon as possible, as there is a long waiting list. If you are still interested, please click the button below accepting this offer. Be advised that there are two mandatory meetings that you must attend before the end of October….

I didn’t read any more, just whooped and texted Galen back that I’d gotten accepted. Then I scrambled back into the email, because in my excitement I’d forgotten to click Accept below the whole long list of things that I was going to read later, I promised myself.

Then I leaned back in the water and gazed up at the ceiling while I dreamed about having my own place. And if some shadowy alpha sometimes intruded on those dreams—well, it wasn’t like I was planning to stay single all my life, was it?

Suddenly, I sat up and started to scrub the mask off my face, then I turned the shower on and washed the oil out of my hair. If I had a good heat… As soon as I was clean, I jumped out of the tub and got dressed, then rummaged in the refrigerator for an offering.

“Ah!” I growled. “Why is there never any good meat when you need it?” If I was going to make an offering, it should be worthy. Which was ridiculous. After all, I wasn’t particularly religious. But I couldn’t have explained why I felt this sudden, undeniable urge to go out and pray to the goddess of wolves. Just that I needed to, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I’d done so.

There. I found a small steak in the freezer, probably something Ma had set aside for Da for some special occasion. I’d have to replace it for her, but for right now, it was perfect.

I wrapped it up in a scrap of paper, gathered up some string that had been dyed a pale, pale green and a small, sharp knife, and headed out to the running ground.

Juniper trees filled the air with their sharp, astringent scent, mixed with a soft note from the pines that were scattered among them. I was noseblind almost before I’d gotten to the trees themselves, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t hunting anything or anyone here tonight, except maybe my own future.

There was a little clearing where the branches fell back far enough that the moon could shine down to the ground. At the edge of the clearing was an old tree, older than the enclave itself, with wild twisty branches and gray, furrowed bark. The remains of offerings from last month’s full moon still hung from its branches. I counted ten love wishes, six for good luck, three for health and one general blessing among the limbs.

It wasn’t quite full moon but I didn’t think the Wolf Goddess Medeina would ignore me for being a couple of days early. So I picked a clean looking rock out where the light could find me and flattened the paper over my thigh. With the knife, I pricked the tip of my little finger and drew the symbols for luck and wealth and happiness on the paper, then wrapped it around the little steak and tied it all up with the proper knots before I picked an empty branch to hang it from. I didn’t want to have the wishing energy divided up between my wish and someone else’s.

Plus, there were plenty of branches available—no need to share.

Once I was sure it was going to stay, I stepped back into the moonlight and tipped my face up so the Lady could see the truth and worthiness of my asking. “Lady of Wolves,” I whispered. “Grant this your pup the wish of his heart, that he should be happy and safe and beloved of those who follow the paths beside him. Grant that this season be fruitful and bring him happiness in the future for the good of the family and the good of the pack. And know in this that, however you choose or refuse, that I your offspring and descendant love you and worship you, in all your forms, in all your faces. My eternal gratitude and faith to you, Mother of us All.” I kissed my still bleeding finger and made a mark on the Bleeding Stone, to call down her attention on my plea.

A breeze ruffled through the tree branches, bringing me the scents of sage and juniper and pine anew. Maybe it was a sign; it wasn’t as if I was more than half-convinced that these things were real. But it felt, in that moment, with the air caressing my face the way my mother used to when I was a pup, that someone, somewhere, had heard me.