As a werewolf, I had years of fighting experience both in training and in life. I quickly grabbed the attacker’s arm and threw him under me as we rolled down the porch and into the snow. I bared my teeth and---

“Scotty?!” I suddenly realized as I looked down at the man. He was older, of course, more manly than eleven years ago but that messy light brown hair and those hazel green eyes and that happy wide smile, those for sure belonged to my old friend Scott.

“Long time no see, you bastard!” He laughed and hugged me, rolling us in the snow. He was just a bit shorter than me, probably five foot eleven. But he was lean, chiseled muscles everywhere I touched as I hugged him back.

“Gods Scotty, it’s good to see you.” I smiled as I got up from the cold snow that very quickly got under my clothes.

“How long has it been? Ten years? Wow… I…” His smile wavered, his gaze suddenly sad. “I’m sorry for Bran… It’s terrible… But hey, at least it brought you back.” He bumped my shoulder with a smile.

“It’s kind of sad though,” another voice said from behind me. I turned around to see yet another familiar face. “That it took Bran’s death for you to come home…” Yuri stood on the porch; arms crossed over his wide chest. Gods, he looked exactly like his father Nikolai. Salt and pepper hair and light blue eyes, he was also big with broad shoulders and muscles. So many muscles. He was one solid wall I would not want to fight with. Luckily, he was my friend, well at least I hoped he still was.

“I’m not welcome here,” I told him, absolutely sure of it.

“Oh? Has someone told you to leave?” He raised an eyebrow as he slowly came down from the porch.

“Not yet.” I sighed knowing that after the funeral most wolves would insist on me leaving.

“You still…?” he half-asked suddenly unsure, nervous.

I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s not something that just disappears, I was born like this and there’s no changing that.”

“Okay… Okay.” He nodded and looked a bit ashamed for even asking. “It’s really good to see you though…” he added quietly.

“Yeah, you too.” I smiled and before I could move, he was hugging me as well. Damn, when did he get taller than me? After a bit of a hugging session, they decided to take me to the Dead dog. It was a roadside bar, not Gavin’s pub where all the werewolves hung out, but a biker-bar-styled pub at the edge of the town, that me, Scott and Yuri used to sneak out to when we didn’t want other werewolves to bother us while we tried and failed to get drunk. I didn’t know how the hell the Dead dog kept in business. Alaska was not the place for bikers and yet there were people here, playing pool and drinking beer in the shitty cubicles. It smelled like cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sweat. It was amazing.

Yuri and Scott took me to a table in the back and ordered us beer. Damn, it tasted as shitty as I remembered, for some reason that fact made me happy. It was more probably caused by drinking with my best friends once again than by the horrible taste though. They asked how I was, what I was doing, if I found a new pack… So, I told them I moved a lot, worked the oddest jobs, and then started college. Not that I could ever be bothered to finish any of the five I went to since I had to move every two years because of my status as a loner. I never found a pack I would want to join. I was a lone wolf. In every sense of the word…

“That’s harsh man,” Scott said. “I can’t imagine living without a pack.” Probably because he wasn’t very dominant, one could say almost submissive but not quite.

I shrugged. The first few months were bad, but eventually, my wolf stopped begging me to go back home. “I had friends…”

“That you had to leave too,” Yuri added with a sad look. “Someone special?” he asked then.

I shook my head and drank my beer, looking at the bottle as I answered. “You know how it is. A fun night here and there, nothing too serious.” I wasn’t much for relationships. The werewolf life wasn’t too inclined to human-werewolf pairings anyway and if I actually wanted a werewolf, I would have to join their pack. Lone wolves were rare and mostly crazy. My phone started buzzing, I took it out of my pocket. Matt’s face stared back at me from the screen. I hung up and put it away.

“One of your ‘fun nights’?” Scott grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I shook my head at him. “So, what about you two? How’s life in the pack?” I asked, smiling.

“Same old, same old. Well, except for Bran.” Yuri sighed and took a long gulp of the beer.

“Yuri’s been training for the position of a warrior,” Scott said and grinned when Yuri frowned at him.

“That’s great, it suits you.” I smiled at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up being the Shield of the pack one day, like your father.” Yuri was always powerful and loyal… and terribly headstrong. He would make a good Shield. Even Trystan, arrogant as he was, had to see the potential in Yuri.

“Hm,” he murmured and frowned at his drink. Oh. Oh, there was something clearly bothering him. I made a note in my head to talk to him later. For now, I just wanted to enjoy the ease of drinking with them.

“And you Scotty?”

“Me?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just being a part of the pack is enough for me. Thought about opening a bar of my own.” He grinned, drinking up. Yeah, that would be the job for him.

“You know that owning a bar doesn’t mean you get to drink your liver away every day right?” I grinned knowing exactly what kind of a party animal he was.

“It doesn’t?!” He made a fake surprised face. “Thanks, Reid now my life is ruined.”

I shook my head, then asked, “So any mates?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, you know how it is a fun night here…” Scott started, imitating my voice. I swatted at him playfully. Of course, he dogged and laughed.