I think my dad purposely prepared all this work for me so I wouldn’t be finished when the Paige Clan arrived with Scott, because I was barely three fourths of the way through by the time I heard the car engines driving up. I jumped out of my seat and spun on my heel to press my face against the window behind my desk, eyes wide as I counted the cars that had parked in the turnabout dirt driveway at the entrance of our property.

I counted ten regular cars, vans, and trucks, with several bigger U-Haul trailers, a few motorcycles, and even a boat. That made sense, as far as I understood, Paige Clan was near a lake. That wasn’t nearly as great as being close to the ocean like Kerry Clan, but I’m sure it was enough for the eastern wolves. They were used to city life, deserts, and lake weekends, so they had a lot to learn about how a real pack lived.

I couldn’t count how many new faces there were, at least a hundred, all of them part of different families, men and women and children alike, but as hard as I tried, I could not for the life of me find Scott in the crowd. Maybe he was near the back? Damn it I wanted to see him.

When I spun around and ran to my door I was stopped in my tracks, because Cliff was standing right outside in the hallway, lifting an eyebrow at me, “Have you finished your work?”

“You heathen, I haven’t seen Scott in eight years!”

“Yes, I know,” Cliff reached out and clapped his hands onto my shoulders, spinning me around, “But imagine how disappointed he’d be if you went out to see him with your work only half finished! You’re supposed to work side by side with the Paige Clan alpha, and that’s Scott, meaning you’ll be spending plenty of time with him from now on, but at the immediate moment, you need to actually prove yourself a diligent alpha and finish your freaking paperwork.”

“You’re a monster,” I whined, but sat down and leaned over my desk to finish my work.

As much as I wanted to argue and complain, Cliff was right. He knew Scott nearly as well as I did, since we grew up together, so he knew that Scott would get on my ass for leaving something half-done or finished like a half-baked shit stain. He was probably a fantastic alpha, so I didn’t want to disappoint him. I had to be on the same level as him if I wanted us to be equals.

Luckily my determination to make him proud of me helped me finish all of my paperwork, but by the time it was done, the Paige Clan had all retired to their knew residences, and the courtyard was empty. I found my parents in the kitchen, Wade sitting at the counter with a cup of tea between his hands, and Cecilia standing across from him flipping through a cookbook. I couldn’t imagine what she would be cooking at eleven in the evening, but decided not to ask.

“Is Scott here?” I asked, and Cecilia lifted her head, grinning.

“Yes he is.”

“Well why didn’t you get me?!” I whined, and Wade pulled the cup away from his lips.

“You know you have to put the pack before your own needs and wants. It’s fine, son, he was exhausted from the drive anyway, so the reunion probably wouldn’t have been as exciting as you were hoping.”

“Is he in his room?” I asked, turning, and Cecilia hummed.

“Yes, we lead him, Shaede, and Rebel to the cabin we prepared.”

I stayed in one spot, staring at the door for a long time before turning to stare at my mother, “What cabin? You were preparing a cabin? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You would have argued,” Wade explained, and I didn’t even rebuff the statement because it was true, “He asked personally for something a little more personal than his old room, and in any case, there were others with him, and I doubt all three would have been able to fit in that little place.”

“He could have stayed in my room with me. What others?”

Cecilia waved a hand over her mouth as she yawned, “Don’t act so betrayed, sweetheart, you’ll see him tomorrow. He’s coming to a family dinner. That’s why I’m looking for a special recipe, something he hasn’t had in a while.”

“Meatloaf,” Wade offered, and Cecilia looked utterly offended.

“What do you take me for?”

I shuffled over and sat down on the stool beside my father, dropping my chin onto the counter and sighing, “He could’ve just stayed with me.”

“You and Scott are both adults, Malcolm, I think you’re a little old to be having sleepovers,” Cecilia chided, “He has responsibilities now, and so do you. You need to remember that.”

“I know, and I get I’m being childish, but it’s been eight years!” I folded my arms over the counter and set my chin back against them, “I just miss him, and he’s so close now,” I sat up, “I’ll go tell him welcome back before it gets too late!”

“It’s nearly midnight, and I guarantee he’s already asleep,” Wade chuckled.

I sighed in frustration and dropped my head back against my arms, “Mom, can I have something that makes me fall asleep really fast? I want it to be morning as soon as possible, and if I don’t get some sleepy time tea or something I’m going to be awake all night and maybe sneak into his house,” I pointed at Wade, “You gave him the old Shaman cabin we never use that’s been empty for like thirty years, right?”

“Of course, it’s the best cabin we have,” Wade confirmed, “Of course we’ve renovated it plenty, and we just restocked it with food, blankets, sheets, pillows, pictures, anything he might need to feel at home there.”

“Doesn’t the Paige Clan actually have a Shaman, though?”

“Zen, if I remember his name correctly,” Wade said, holding his cup to his lips.

“Then wouldn’t it make more sense to give him the Shaman house? You know, since he’s actually a Shaman? It’s been years since Kerry Clan has had a Shaman.”

“We didn’t need one,” Wade said, setting his mug down, “We still don’t. I don’t know Zen well, why would I give him the best cabin in the estate? That house is rightfully Scott’s.”

I held a hand up, “Okay, I understand. I kind of agree, Scott’s family, obviously he would deserve that cabin, I was just asking. Anyway, why wouldn’t we need a Shaman? They’re basically medics, and last I checked those were kind of important.”

Wade stood up, his face suddenly grim, “I believe this conversation is over. I’m going to bed now,” he drank the rest of his tea before setting the cup down and smiling at his wife, “Don’t’ stay up too long, darling.”

I watched him leave the kitchen before throwing my hands up, “What’s so bad about the idea of having a Shaman?”

“It’s a long story,” Cecilia laughed weakly, and I folded my arms back over the counter, leaning forward.

“I’m alpha of this pack, don’t you think I need to know the story, regardless of how long it is?”

“Someday, yes,” she agreed, closing the cookbook, “But for now just try to understand. It’s a hard subject for your father to talk about.”

“I don’t really understand, but fine,” I stood up from the stool and turned, “I’m going to try and sleep. You should too,” I walked around the counter to kiss my mother’s cheek, then headed for the door, “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, Malcolm.”

I didn’t. I was restless the entire time, rolling around and sitting up more than once to flip on the low light lamp beside my bed so I could unfold the letter Scott had left me eight years ago and read over it again and again. At one point, I stood up and walked over to my window, pushing the curtain aside and sitting on the cushioned seat there, staring at the Shaman’s house that was in perfect view of my room.

I couldn’t see any lights on, so Scott was most definitely asleep, but I still wanted to jump from the second story building so I could see him again. I held back though, and somehow managed to sleep through the night, even with waking up five times.

Normally I would sleep in until Cliff knocked on the door to get my lazy ass up, but that next morning I was in the kitchen before my mother, already showered and dressed, clean shaven with my hair as neat as I could get it.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise,” Cecilia yawned when she stepped into the kitchen wearing a dark blue robe and slippers, her hair a mess and a soft smile on her lips, “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Morning, mom,” I greeted, holding a hot cup of coffee out for her to take.

She eyed it suspiciously for a long moment before humming and taking it from me, holding it to her face and sniffing it before shaking her head, “No, I don’t think so,” she poured it out and slapped my arm to make me move so she could grab the coffee pot and dump out my sad attempt.

“Hey, I tried.”

“You know you can’t make good coffee, Malcolm,” Cecilia argued, setting up a new pot, “Though I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I was making it for Scott,” I admitted, and Cecilia gaped at me.

“You wanted to start your reunion with that poison?”

“That is so rude to say to your son!” I complained readily, “Shouldn’t you be saying something like great job, keep working on your coffee making skills and you’ll be a barista in no time!”

“That was when you were twelve,” Cecilia decided, “You’re too old for that now.”

“I highly disagree.”

“I don’t think you should bring Scott that coffee.”

I held up a thermos I’d already filled, arching an eyebrow at her, “It’s far too late for that now.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, waving a hand at me, “Go on then, he might already be awake. All you alphas either get up at four or sleep until noon, and Scott has always been an early riser.”

I nodded and pushed myself forward, spinning on my heel and stepping quickly towards the door. It was cold outside, there was frost on the ground and my breath ghosted out of my lips as I headed towards the Shaman house, clutching the thermos between my frozen hands as I hiked up the steps onto the porch and knocked on the door respectfully. I wanted to just barge in, but decided against it.

I waited for a few minutes before the door opened, and the smile on my face fell as my confusion grew. The man standing in the doorway was about my height with dark red hair and eyes like the purple edges of a sunset. He wasn’t bad looking, which is probably what had me bristling.

“Who the fuck are you?” I found myself asking, and he arched up a suspicious eyebrow as he leaned one hand against the doorframe, essentially blocking my entrance.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, and I tensed up.

“Yea, you can move. I’m here to see Scott. Who the hell are you?”

“A friend,” he said simply, pushing back and turning his back to me, “Close the door on your way in, don’t let the heat out.”