"Jon!" Romeo's deep voice follows as I stride quickly down the hall. "Get back here." I round the top of the stairs and descend at full speed, skipping steps in my haste to leave. Anger pulses like a living beast beneath my skin. If I don't get the hell out of here, my alpha and I will come to blows. The urge to fight, to answer the call of my inner wolf, colors my vision, tinting the werewolf pack's large home in a wash of red haze. Claws itch to descend through my clenched fists, and the brush of fur waiting to erupt tingles my skin. "This is not over." Romeo's booming shout thunders through the house. "Get back here now, or don't ever come back!" This time he's getting what he threatens. What's so crazy about suggesting a support network for wolves? Why am I suddenly the object of scorn and ridicule? Is organizing packs somehow a threatening concept to our way of life? A tiny voice inside whispers, Your suggestion of such a change goes against everything a werewolf pack stands for. Could that be true? Would instilling communication among hundreds of Weres hurt us as a species? I block the denials I've heard for months. Doesn't make sense. Could Romeo's resistance stem from something bigger? Should I listen to the gossip saying I've evolved into an alpha faster than anyone expected? There is only one male alpha per pack,