“I should have gotten a dog,” you grumble. You’re sitting cross-legged in a cage, elbow on your knee, chin propped in your hand, as four burly werewolves carry you in said cage through the forest. They’re shirtless. You’re pretty sure they oiled themselves before hoisting the cage’s poles onto their brawny shoulders. The view isn’t bad—minus the cage bars, of course. Those put a damper on things. That and your smug calico cat perched atop a purple pillow with gold tassels, carried by the pack’s alpha male, who is also shirtless.

Everybody was wearing shirts when you interrupted their little get-together. You don’t know why the men stripped. It might have something to do with whatever nonsense they’re chanting. The women are still clothed, and they’re carrying baskets full of kittens. And chanting. The women, not the kittens. The kittens are popping out of the baskets on occasion to mew at you, as smug as your cat and twice as cute.

You feel something tickling your neck and reach back to pluck a feather from your shirt. Who would have thought feathers could be such an effective weapon? But when someone cut a goose-down pillow open and threw it at your face, the resulting feather explosion blinded and disoriented you long enough for you to get captured and thrown into this cage. And now, you have the uneasy feeling that you’re about to be sacrificed in some weird religious ceremony, which is even weirder considering this pack’s dedication to atheism.

That was the reason they kicked you out when you were a teenager. You had the audacity to find God. They preferred that He remained lost. When you made your fortune, you bought this forest, which had been their territory, and you hired a priest to bless it, just to spite them. You’d seen neither hide nor hair of them again until today.

You hear a familiar meow and shoot your cat a glare as the alpha brings her toward you. She alights from the pillow and slinks through the cage bars to sit in front of you, flicking her white-tipped tail as if to tell the alpha to leave. He does.

“You have a lot of nerve coming in here with me,” you tell her.

I’d prefer if we carry this conversation on this way, her meowed voice enters your mind.

Your eyes widen. “Why are you in my head?”

Shush! I don’t want anybody to hear us, you idiot!

You scowl at her. Careful. I’ve never wanted to strangle a cat before, but I’m considering it now.

I know, I know, this looks really bad, but if you’ll just listen, there’s an explanation!

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. It had better be good.

Okay, well, to start with, my name is Luna.

Like Sailor Moon’s cat?

She rolls her eyes. You didn’t know cats could roll their eyes.

No, not like Sailor Moon’s cat! Like the rejected girl in every werewolf romance! Except you’re the rejected girl in this story, and I finally have the chance to get a new storyline, and I am not passing up this opportunity!

You tilt your head to the side, studying her mismatched blue and green eyes. You know this is a story? Do you know about the author, too?

She nods. She wrote me into this story after the pack rejected you. But I’d never heard of her before, so I did a little research. Did you know she’s never written a werewolf romance before?

I kind of figured. This isn’t like any werewolf romance I’ve ever read.

Same! So, in any other story, I would end up with the alpha, but he’s a real jerk, and I’ve always wanted to study ancient history. The author turned me into a cat so I could pursue my interests and figure out how to get away from him. Did you know there’s an ancient temple right under your log cabin?

You stare at the archeologically inclined feline. I suppose that should surprise me, but after everything else…

And it was full of kittens! One kitten for each member of the pack. The alpha thinks they’re the avatars of some god of mischief, here to punish him for kicking you out. But it’s just the author messing with him. She wants to teach him a lesson, so she found a prompt that would cross our storylines and allow us to work together. After that, I’ll turn back into a person. Er, werewolf.

You sigh. Of course she did. What’s the prompt?

I’ll take that one. It really threw me for a loop until I took a shower and put all the pieces together. Showers are the best for stimulating new ideas. Well, you know. You reset your mind with a nice hot shower in the last chapter. Anyway, the prompt is this: ‘Every day at the exact same time your cat slips out of your home. One afternoon, curiosity gets the better of you and you follow, only to discover it's living a secret life you never imagined.’

Well, that explains a lot. This story is the shower equivalent of a fever dream. Great. But my storyline is enough trouble for me, so before I’ll help you with yours, Luna, I need to know: what’s in it for me?

Luna looks around at the cage. Well, I’ll let you out of here, for one.

I’m a vampire and a werewolf. If I wanted to, I could rip these bars out and leave.

So why don’t you? She leans toward you. Are you waiting for your knight in shining armor to rescue you?

You press your lips together. No. Absolutely not. First, the only knight in shining armor I know is trying to kill my ticket out of this story, and second, I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving all the time. I’m just… curious, that’s all.

A cat’s smirk is much more sinister than a dragon’s smirk.

So, you’ll help me?

You sigh and shrug. Sure, why not? I don’t have a handle on anything in this story anyway. What’s another plotline thrown into the mess?

Yay! Okay, here’s the plan. When we get to the den, the alpha will give you the choice to marry him or be sacrificed to the god of mischief. You’ll agree to marry him, and—

My cooperation just ended.

She glares at you. You haven’t even heard the rest of the plan.

I will never agree to marry that buffoon, even if it’s just a ploy. He thinks a fancy restaurant is a place that uses glass ketchup bottles.

She flicks her tail and twitches an ear, irritated. You can’t reject him if you don’t accept him first.

I can reject him without accepting him.

It’ll hurt him worse if you accept him first.

No.

Fine. Then you’ll have to go along with the sacrifice bit, which means you’ll have to deal with traveling underground until we reach the temple. Are you okay with that?

The thought of going underground makes you cringe. Do you have a fear of dirt or something? Whatever the case, that won’t work, so you’re stuck with agreeing to marry the alpha who rejected you, thus playing into a key werewolf romance storyline. Unless you can come up with something else, in which case I’m all ears.

You frown and tilt your head to the side. What if the author wants us to do something completely different? Something completely unexpected?

What do you mean? Luna asks.

Well, look at you. Where does getting turned into a cat factor into any werewolf romance story? She wants to teach this alpha a lesson. What kind of lesson? Is this all about his treatment of women? I mean, come on. This is the twenty-first century. Kicking a minor out of the pack because they don’t share his beliefs? Forcing someone to marry him because he said so? No way. He already thinks the kittens are avatars of a god who’s punishing him for what he did to me. Who would have thought kittens could be a punishment? We are not his playthings, and we need to drive that home.

She swishes her tail in slow swipes across the cage floor. You’re right. We live in a democracy—well, technically, it’s a republic, but it amounts to the same thing. Elected officials fill all government positions. Who gave him the power to decide for the pack? Who even established the pack as a distinct political entity? Or maybe it would be considered a club? No, it’s definitely political. And monarchical. In a republic. Which is totally illegal.

You smile, listening as Luna continues to work through her complicated feelings about pack structure as it relates to political theory. Most of it goes over your head. Who knew the attractive but shallow Luna in all those werewolf romances was such a secret intellectual? She isn’t a flat character at all. Tropes have done her a disservice. She’s much more than a pretty face, and you have the solution to this situation well before you arrive at the pack den.

Your bearers set down the cage. The alpha approaches and inserts a key into the lock. As soon as you hear it click, you shove the door open and step onto the grass in front of him, stretching your hands over your head with a sigh.

“You have a lot to learn about hospitality,” you remark.

He crosses his arms over his oiled, muscular chest. A tattooed heart with the word ‘Mom’ bulges over his right bicep. “And you still haven’t learned your place. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one in control of this situation, not you.”

You give him a sweet smile. “Really? I got the impression that the cat is the one in control of you, this pack, and this situation.”

“The cat is the avatar of a god of mischief. We found a temple underground, and—”

“Oh, it’s so cute that you’re such a primeval stud muffin! It’s like your only positive feature is your looks—because that’s the truth! Your tiny mind saw a strange phenomenon and jumped straight to a simplistic, fanciful explanation! I think a little re-education is in order. Luna?”

The cat leaps to the ground beside you with equal parts feline grace and feminine seduction. “Hm. I didn’t think about sending him back to school, but that’s exactly what he needs, isn’t it?”

Alpha Empty-head stares at Luna and utters a profound “What?”

“But if we don’t want to perpetuate the existing problem, we’ll need to bring in qualified teachers who know what they’re doing,” you continue. “So as much as I’d like to assign this guy to Civics 101 with Professor Luna, I’ll have to organize something else. Unless you’d like to handle that, Luna,” you said, turning toward the cat. “When you’re back in school and working toward your doctorate.”

The cat’s eyes widen. She gasps. Suddenly, the cat is gone, and a brunette with flawless skin and a gorgeous body is jumping up and down in front of you, squealing with delight. “I’m going back to school? I’m going back to school! Ack! I can’t believe it!”

“Luna?” the clueless Alpha asks.

“Don’t think this is me being charitable,” you tell Luna. “I’ll foot the bill, but I want something in return.”

“Anything!” She grabs your arm, mismatched blue and green eyes dancing in her glowing face. Dancing irises and luminescent skin would bother you if you hadn’t already seen things such as smoldering eyes bursting into flames. Now, you just take the literalism in stride.

“My new clothing line combines femininity with felinity,” you tell her. “I need a model.”

“I’ll do it!” She jumps back and spins around, squealing. Then she jumps forward, grabs the alpha, plants a big kiss on his gaping lips, slaps him, and spins back to you, hopping in place. “I’m getting my PhD!”

“I’m… confused,” the alpha says, rubbing the red handprint on his cheek.

“Wait. Does that mean we get to go to school, too?” a woman bearing a basket of kittens asks.

“And I can learn something other than bodybuilding?” a shirtless man adds. “I’ve always wanted to be an accountant.”

“Yes and yes,” you confirm. “And also, I need to fix and vaccinate all these kittens… Ugh. So much for my fortune.” You sigh and shrug. “But what’s the point of having money if you aren’t putting it to good use?”

“I’ll earn it all back for you and more! I’m getting my PhD!” Luna sings, liberated and empowered. You’ve done well today, Y/n. I’m proud of you. Of course, it’s a bit too early for me to resolve anything in this story, isn’t it?

“No!” the nameless alpha shouts, an unknowing pawn in my plan. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but one of you is marrying me, and the other one is getting sacrificed to the god of mischief, and that’s that!”

“Rrawk! Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners? You should be ashamed of yourself! Rrawk!”

The pack erupts into laughter as your parrot leaves a deposit on top of their alpha’s head, sullying his luxurious brown hair and forever tarnishing his reputation as the Alpha Who Dances with Toucans. I know macaws and toucans are two different birds, but this is an uneducated pack, remember? Anyway, he shrieks like a little girl and darts off toward the closest river, only to run face-first into BTS’ fist and fall flat on his back, out cold.

“What are you doing here?” you shout as BTS rushes toward you, asking, “Are you okay?”

“I woke up and you were gone!” he explains as you reply, “I’m fine! I didn’t need your help!”

“Wait, you were worried about me?” you ask as he shouts, “You’d been kidnapped! Of course you needed help! And yes, I was worried about you! When I woke up and smelled that idiot—” he jerks a finger toward the unconscious bird-blessed alpha— “I knew something bad had happened!”

Fortunately, his dialogue lasted much longer than yours, breaking the cycle of you two speaking over each other. It happens all the time in real life, but it’s really hard to write. And also, your insides are turning into mush again. You throw your arms around BTS and squeal, “You can’t blame this on a lawsuit this time!”

“Um… I…”

“Darling!” A woman shoves you aside and tackles BTS.

“‘Darling’?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at the offending blonde.

BTS pushes her away and clears his throat. “Yeah… this is my fiancée.”

Uh oh. If she’s his fiancée, then that means…

“Deploying Plan G!”

All the shirtless men suddenly have guns and fedoras, and they’re all pointing their firearms at you. Yep, this is a mafia pack. Bummer, huh?