Freya decided to start with the biggest question in her mind at the time. "Why did you kill those men in the club?"

Tristan was surprised by the question, "How do you know about that?"

"I saw you," she said, simply.

"Well, Freya," he said, his arms over his chest as he leaned in his chair. "Those men were trespassers."

"Trespassers?" she echoed. "They were in a club for Christ's sake."

"They were scavenging, stole some things and shot Hunter from our pack so we ended the threat. We were protecting our family, don't tell me you wouldn't do the same."

Freya stayed silent.

"Besides, one of them shot your brother. They weren't exactly saints."

"Okay but what you did to Greg is reversible though, right?" she said after some thought.

"You can't reverse a bite."

"So he's a wolf, like, what you are?"

"I suppose, yes."

"And you want us to leave in the morning?"

"That would be ideal."

If Freya felt slightly hurt by the comment, she didn't show it.

"If my brother is what you say he is then he needs help. I can't take him out of here being a wolf. What the hell do I tell him?"

"I can't let you stay here, if that's what you're getting at."

"Why not?"

"Because this is the pack house, it's home to the wolves."

"I might not be a wolf but Greg is."

"We do not accept strangers into our pack, Freya."

"Strangers? You did this to my brother and you need to fix it."

"And you're going to tell me what I need to do?"

Freya heard the anger in his voice and she looked at the painting behind him, thinking of what to say.

"Why haven't you barricaded your windows or your doors?" Freya asked, finally looking back at him.

"Because they're not drawn to us, they don't detect us like they pick the humans out."

"But if those things came into your home?"

"We'd kill them."

"How?"

Tristan seemed to lose his annoyance and instead was amused. "First, we'd transition."

"Into wolves?"

"Yes and then we'd bite and claw those things until they couldn't walk no more."

Freya frowned, not liking where he was going with it.

"And then, finally. We'd rip their heads clean off their bodies."

"I get it," Freya muttered. "What did you do with the stuff from the safe?

Tristan shrugged, "None of your business."

"That's not fair."

"Yeah?"

"You stole them from us. I don't even know what you stole. The least you could do is tell me what it was."

"They were the old witch's journals and notes," he answered, vaguely.

"Why did you need them so bad?"

Tristan looked at her, bored. "Witches, they're the protected ones in this area. The smoke? It can't touch them. It doesn't even fog their gardens by a mile."

He paused, cracking his knuckles. "Right now, it's a survival game. Nobody knows what the hell that smoke is or where it came from and nobody except us and them have survived long enough to find out."

Freya watched him, "But you needed the journal so bad?"

"Any information could turn this thing around. The witches are selfish and arrogant but they're smart. However, the journal was useless."

Freya stayed silent for a while.

"Do you think there's any way to stop the smoke? Like permanently?"

Tristan looked at her, "Maybe but for now, we're on our own."

Freya sighed and glanced at her hands in her lap.

"I have a question for you," Tristan said after a long pause.

Freya looked at him, waiting. His blue eyes scanned her face and he didn't hide it. She would've considered him to be good looking if he wasn't such an asshole.

"How old are you?"

She was caught off guard by the question, "Nineteen, why?"

Tristan ignored her question and continued.

"Where are your parents?"

Freya paused, "My dad is dead, killed by one of those things out there."

"I'm sorry," he said but Freya shrugged it off, not wanting his sympathy.

"And my mum is... I don't know where she is. She took off when they were attacked at the house, could be anywhere."

"I see," he replied.

"That's why I need to know if there's a place like this one. Maybe there is and my mum might be there," Freya sighed.

Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"That's why I'm asking you, please help us out. Only until we find my mum because either way, in that house or not, we're screwed."

"Keeping you here will put us in danger," Tristan explained.

"I could stay on the down low or something. Hide me in the attic or basement if it's that bad. I don't have anything to negotiate with but I could be useful here, help with gathering stuff or house chores. I'd do it if you just give us a chance plus we wouldn't stay forever, just until we find somewhere else," Freya tried.

Tristan looked at her and finally replied, "I'll have to discuss it with the others."

"Okay," she nodded, hopefully.

"But no promises."

"You'll consider it, that's all I'm asking," she replied.

Tristan watched her intently and when she left, let out a deep breath. He leaned back in his seat, gripping the table with his hands.

Freya walked back to the room and Jade shoved past her, hitting her shoulder with hers. Freya opened her mouth to argue but closed it when she realised it wasn't worth it.

"Hey," she said to Greg. "You should've gone back to sleep."

"Couldn't sleep. I didn't trust that girl."

"Smart boy, I don't trust her either."

"If you don't trust her then why did you ask the Alpha for us to stay?"

"What?"

Greg smiled, sheepishly. "I could hear you guys."

"Wow, what else can you do?" Freya laughed.

"I don't know yet," Greg shrugged. "But I feel amazing."

"I'm glad you do. I'm not sure what mum would say though."

"I don't think she'd like me being a wolf. She'd say it's dangerous."

Freya smiled, "You may be a wolf, Greg. But you'll always be my brother first, okay? I don't want you to think that this changes anything."

Greg nodded.

"Go on, let's sleep."

Greg moved over and lay down, "What's the plan now?"

Freya paused, laying her head on the pillow. "To be honest, I don't have a plan. But I guess I'll have to sleep on it."

"Yeah but Freya?"

"Hmm?"

"These guys are still dangerous, I don't want to stay here longer than we have to."

Freya glanced at Greg, "I guess you're right but it'd be nice if we weren't alone out there even for a little bit of time."

"We aren't alone. We're still together and mum's out there, too."

Freya smiled, "Yeah, you're right. Goodnight, Greg."

"Goodnight, Freya."

Who would've known, Freya thought to herself as she stroked her brother's hair. Her brother was a werewolf and to think, days ago, she didn't even know they existed.

•