“As far as rules go, all packs are different, but one rule we all share is keeping our identity a secret from humans. There’s always an exception, but as a whole, they’re too volatile. It could cause panic.” He’s watching my every reaction. “The rest is easy. I already told my brother you’d be by in a couple days. No one will make you leave, but more importantly, no one will make you stay if you don’t want to.”

I can’t detect any deception from him. Is it really that easy? Why was I led to believe otherwise? My God, all those years I could have been safe, cared for? I shake my head to dislodge the useless thoughts. There must have been a reason for my parents to tell me that I needed to wait until I was much older before living in a pack. That I would be used or enslaved. But what is it?

Sniffer’s face softens. “Do you have any other questions? Can I ask you a few?”

I had to know this was coming. “I’ll try. There are things I am not ready to talk about, but I will try,” I answer.

“When did you lose your parents?” he whispers.

“I was fourteen.” I’m proud my voice doesn’t crack.

“What! Where have you been all this time?”

I pull my hand from beneath his and say, “Foster care.” It comes flatly. My guard is up, he’ll get no more about that from me.

He jumps from his seat and starts pacing. “With humans? Your first shift, you were alone?”

“Yes,” I answer simply.

“How is that even possible?”

With a shrug of my shoulders, I reply, “I knew my first shift was coming. I tried to prepare as best I could. I just did it. I didn’t have any other options.”

I’m pulled from my chair and folded into his arms with his hand on the back of my head holding me to his chest. A soft noise comes from his throat—I can only describe as a whine—before he says, “You sweet girl, poor sweet girl.” His chin rubs the top of my head, and I soak in the embrace, taking a few moments of comfort.

Too quickly, I’m leaning back and saying, “Hey Sniffer, enough with the heavy. Let’s go eat cake.”

His nose scrunches in distaste at the name I’ve given him, but he smiles and tuts. “What? You’re my first friend. Nicknames are cool. Right?” Just like that, his playful demeanor is back, and we’re both pretending. Me that I’m okay and him that he believes it.

I grab us each a glass of milk and give him a piece of cake that takes up the whole plate. Holding my much smaller piece, I say, “Ya want to watch some TV?”

He’s shoveling cake in and moaning while we walk to the living room.

Sniffer tells me about growing up in his pack, how everyone knows each other’s most embarrassing moments and how much he looks up to his brother, who he thinks is the best Alpha there is.