The next morning, Uncle Carl and Aunt Amber insist on welcoming us to town properly: dinner at a big steakhouse run by Amber’s older sister. They also want to introduce us to the rest of their family. I’ve never met any of them before, and I’m secretly hoping there are kids around my age—someone to hang out with who isn’t my sister or the twins.

  We pull into the parking lot, and the smell of grilled steak hits me like a wall. My stomach flips. I don’t know if it’s an elf thing or just me, but meat doesn’t agree with me. Even a tiny bite can make me violently sick—sometimes dangerously so. Mom catches my worried look and squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll find you something safe, sweetie. It’ll be fine.”

  Of course, the lot is jammed. Word travels fast when the elf kid is in town. Crowds make me antsy, so the second I step out of the car I scoot close to Mom and slip my hand into hers. Safety anchor activated.

  Inside, it’s nothing like I expected.

  It feels like a scene from one of those old mafia movies Kylie and I definitely weren’t supposed to watch. The moment Carl walks through the door, the whole place goes still. Everyone stands. People approach him one by one—handshakes for the men, respectful nods, some even dip their heads like he’s royalty. Amber gets warm hugs from the women and the same lowered heads from the men (but nobody touches her without permission). The twins get swarmed with affection too.

  Kylie and I exchange wide-eyed grins. We’ve joked for years that Carl runs some kind of crime syndicate. This isn’t helping.

  For once, nobody’s staring at me. It’s… weird. Nice, but weird. People only approach my family after Carl or Amber introduces us, and even then they keep it short and polite—no endless questions, no phones shoved in my face. It’s the most normal I’ve felt in public in years.

  We’re led to a huge table right in the center. Drinks and appetizers are already waiting, like they knew exactly when we’d arrive.

  I’m scanning the menu for anything vegetarian when a girl—late teens, maybe seventeen—dashes up behind Luna and throws her arms around her in a bear hug. Luna actually squeals (squeals!) and jumps up to hug her back. First genuine smile I’ve seen from Luna since we got here.

  And then the girl looks across the table at me.

  My brain short-circuits.

  I’ve never felt anything like this. Not once. Girls have never been on my radar—until right now.

  She’s got Amber’s warm olive skin and the same golden-brown eyes as Luna, only brighter, framed by thick lashes. Long dark-brown hair is pulled into a ponytail under a backward ball cap. No makeup, but she doesn’t need any. She’s stunning in this effortless way that makes my chest feel tight.

  While still hugging Luna, she spots me and her whole face lights up. “Holy crap, it’s the elf! I finally get to meet you!”

  I duck my head, cheeks on fire. My heart’s suddenly doing sprints.

  “Yeah, this is Meleek,” Luna says, smirking at me. “Not sure why he’s acting all shy. Maybe he likes you, Harley.”

  I snap my head up, mortified. “I do not!”

  Harley laughs—bright, easy—and circles the table until she’s right beside me. “Aw, really?” She leans in a little, voice teasing. “You don’t have to be shy around me, Meleek. Just think of me like you do Lucian and Luna—family. I really wanna be friends.”

  Then she reaches down, gently tilts my chin up with two fingers, and suddenly her face is maybe a foot from mine. I catch the faint scent of something fruity—shampoo, maybe—and my brain goes completely blank.

  “Can we be friends?” she asks softly.

  Words? What are words? I manage a frantic nod.

  She straightens up, grinning. “Good. Dang, you’re adorable. Love the hair.” She ruffles my ponytail as she walks away, leaving me in a total daze.

  I watch her slide into the seat next to Luna—directly across from me, because the universe hates me—and the two of them start whispering and giggling.

  Lucian drops into the chair on my other side, Dad on my left. Orders get taken, conversations flow, everyone catching up on the two years since we last saw each other.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Food finally arrives, and I’m starving. But the second the plates hit the table in front of Carl, the entire restaurant goes dead quiet. Every head turns. Even our parents hush. Kylie and I exchange confused looks.

  “What’s happening?” Kylie whispers to Mom.

  “Shh. Just watch,” Mom murmurs back.

  Kylie raises an eyebrow at me like everyone’s lost it. I shrug, just as baffled.

  Carl cuts into his steak, takes a bite, closes his eyes, and lets out this low, satisfied sound. He takes another bite, nods once, and waves a hand: go ahead.

  Instantly the noise floods back—laughter, silverware clinking, conversation. Like someone hit play again.

  It’s bizarre, but the rest of dinner is actually fun. People come by to say hi, but nobody crowds me. I feel… included. Like I belong to this huge, loud, warm extended family.

  I’m still marveling at how Lucian and Luna are each demolishing their third T-bone when a man hurries in from the entrance. Worry lines his face as he beelines for Carl, leans in close.

  “We need to talk privately. There’s been an incident.”

  Carl wipes his mouth calmly, excuses himself, and follows the man to a quiet spot by the bar. The staff and nearby customers clear out without a word.

  I pretend to focus on my pasta, but my ears are locked in.

  “There’s a rogue in town,” the man says quietly, voice masked by the restaurant chatter. “Markings show he’s been banished from another pack—er, family. He’s been asking around, hoping to put down roots here. Doesn’t seem to know this is claimed territory.”

  Carl nods. “Send Greg and Dante to talk to him. Politely explain he’s gotta move on. We’re not taking rogues right now. Point him toward Saratoga—they’re looking to grow.”

  The man nods at Carl’s instructions—“Yes, Alpha”—and starts to step away. Then he freezes. His teeth catch his lower lip, biting down hard enough that I can see the color drain from it. He shifts his weight, eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for an escape that isn’t there.

  Carl notices immediately. His eyes narrow. “What is it? Speak, boy.”

  The man swallows. “Well, um…” He looks away, shoulders hunching.

  Carl’s patience snaps. He reaches out, grabs the guy’s chin in one massive hand, and forces him to meet his gaze. “What?”

  The guy’s voice comes out a nervous squeak. “Um… my sister. She went through her first change.”

  Carl releases him and straightens, interested now. “Good for her. What’s the problem?”

  “She… wasn’t with us when it happened. She snuck out. Slept over at a human friend’s house.”

  “What!” Carl’s voice cracks like thunder, loud enough that heads all over the restaurant swivel toward us. He grabs the guy by the collar and yanks him close, faces inches apart. The man’s eyes squeeze shut in terror; he’s shaking so hard I can see it from across the room.

  Everyone else suddenly finds their plates fascinating and looks away. Everyone except me.

  “Why am I just hearing about this now?” Carl growls low into the guy’s ear. “Why wasn’t your family watching her?”

  “I—um—”

  Carl glances around, checking for eavesdroppers. His eyes land on me—staring right at him. My heart stops. He knows exactly how sharp my hearing is.

  He cuts the guy off mid-stammer, clamps a hand on his shoulder, and drags him toward the exit. Away from my prying ears.

  I drop my gaze to my plate, cheeks burning. Great. He’s definitely mad at me now.

  To calm my nerves, I grab a french fry and pop it in my mouth.

  Big mistake.

  The second I swallow, my stomach revolts. It’s coated in steak juices—someone’s plate must’ve dripped onto my basket.

  I slap a hand over my mouth as nausea slams into me. Everyone turns.

  “Meleek, you okay?” Dad asks, rubbing my back.

  I bolt up, still clutching my mouth. “Ate something bad,” I mumble, and sprint for the restroom. Dad’s right behind me.

  Behind us, I hear Luna snickering.

  “Luna Celeste,” Amber snaps, “what did you do?”

  I don’t make it far—just the hallway—before I’m heaving into a decorative plant. Mortifying. Tears sting my eyes as I finally stumble into the bathroom and finish being miserably sick.

  By the time Dad helps me back to the table, I’m pale and shaky. Amber forces Luna to apologize (again). Turns out she thought it’d be hilarious to dip one of my fries in her steak juices.

  Dad announces we’re heading home. Carl apologizes for Luna and asks if the twins can stay the night anyway—something urgent came up he and Amber need to handle. My parents, being the overly nice people they are, agree.

  I inwardly groan. Perfect. Stuck in the same house as Luna while I feel like death.

  Back home, I hide in my room. Lucian follows, controller in hand, ready to distract me with video games. We settle in for a marathon session.

  Eventually, curiosity wins.

  “Hey,” I say, eyes still on the screen, “what’s a rogue?”

  Lucian flinches. “What?”

  “That guy who talked to your dad at dinner. He mentioned a rogue in your territory.” I pause the game just long enough to dodge an enemy. “Watch out—sniper in the tower on the right.”

  “I got him,” Lucian mutters, blasting the guy. He unpauses. “You were eavesdropping?”

  “I might’ve heard a little,” I admit, glancing over. We both snap our attention back to the screen.

  Lucian hesitates. “A rogue is… kind of an unwelcome guest. Someone who causes trouble if they stick around too long.”

  “Trouble like… getting whacked?” I ask, half-joking.

  He laughs. “Dad’s not in the mafia, dude. He’s just gonna make sure the guy leaves town and doesn’t come back.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, grinning skeptically. “Sure. So what does your dad actually do? My dad says archaeology, but you guys are loaded.”

  “He does do digs with your dad sometimes. But mostly he owns businesses—restaurants, properties, stuff overseas. Him and Mom are big into investments. Smart money stuff. That’s where the real cash comes from.”

  “Oh. Makes sense, I guess.” I’m not totally convinced—not after tonight—but I let it drop.

  We play for hours more. Around two a.m., Luna pokes her head in, hair messy, eyes tired.

  “Lucian, come sleep. I’m exhausted.”

  He groans but saves the game. We shut everything down and crash—me in my bed, Lucian on the air mattress, Luna dragging him off to whatever room she claimed.

  As I drift off, stomach still queasy and brain buzzing with questions, one thought keeps circling:

  This town is definitely going to be interesting.