The Other Pack

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Cameron drove the truck, with Adrian quietly criticizing his driving from the passenger seat in between painful gasps as they bounced down the rutted dirt road, with Scarlet, Ben, and Peter in the bed of the truck. The sun was high in the sky, but the air was brisk and bitter.

Peter poked his head through the rear window and gave Cameron another direction. "Turn right up here."

They pulled down a long, craggy driveway and followed it for about a half-mile until they came to a small log cabin. Smoke twirled out of the chimney and drifted into the treetops that canopied the little house. On the front porch, there sat two old wicker rocking chairs, and wind chimes hung above them.

"You live here?" Scarlet asked. "It looks like the granny's cabin from Little Red Riding Hood."

"Maybe it is," said Peter. He hopped out of the truck. "Maybe I'm the big bad wolf." He winked at her.

They all followed Peter toward the house, Cam and Ben holding Adrian up as they went. He was doing a bit better, but it would take days for him to heal completely. And he'd be left with the scars forever.

Peter opened the front door and they all went in. Sitting around the living room were the remaining members of Peter's broken pack. In the corner, a huge, broad-shouldered man sat eating an apple with a knife the size of Scarlet's arm.

"My brother," Peter gestured toward him, "Charlie."

Charlie simply nodded.

"And my best friend, Oskar," Peter said. He pointed across the room to an average-looking, much younger man with long, stringy hair and a goatee.

Oskar looked up from the tattered book he was reading. "Pleasure."

A door burst open to Scarlet's right and she turned. A short, petite girl with dark brown skin and black, braided hair stood with her hands on her hips. Her nose was pierced and she had a few dark freckles across her nose.

"Fiona." Scarlet didn't need to be introduced. Somehow, she knew just by looking at her.

"What is this, Peter?" Fiona asked, ignoring Scarlet. "We running a halfway house for wayward wolves now?"

"Oh, shove it, Fiona," Peter replied. "Scarlet has a bone to pick with you."

Fiona rolled her eyes.

"You killed her," Scarlet said. She felt the rage rising in her again, a warmth spreading up from her gut. "You killed my best friend."

"Who," Fiona chuckled, "Penny?"

Scarlet blanched. "How do you—"

Fiona laughed loudly, tossing her head back. "Oh, Peter, come on. Don't you ever get tired of your own dramatic orchestrations?" The girl shook her head and looked back to Scarlet. "I suppose you came here to kick my ass, avenge your best friend's death, yadda, yadda, yadda."

Scarlet frowned and turned her attention to Peter, who shrugged.

"Well, save your energy, pup," Fiona said. She reached over and pushed open the door she'd just barreled out of. "Hey. Come here."

Scarlet's heart raced and tears burned behind her eyes. Her head pounded, her ears rang, and her whole world came crumbling down at the sight of Penny. Her coppery red hair was cut short, and her face seemed paler and less alive than it did the last time Scarlet saw her.

"Oh, my god." Scarlet's voice trembled, her knees grew weak, and a hard sob exploded from her chest. "Penny. You're alive?"

Penny stared, her mouth hanging open. "Scarlet?"

The two girls collided in a tight embrace. Peter looked on, nodding, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

"I thought I'd never see you again," said Penny.

"I thought you were dead," Scarlet replied.

Both girls looked over at Peter, their faces scrunched up in identical frowns of disappointment and disapproval.

Peter grinned innocently. "The two of you have some catching up to do."

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