Shadows Lurking

November 16th, 2005 – Wednesday, 12:15pm

“I’m open!” James shouts. “Toss it!”

Mattheo jumps through the air and flings the white ball towards the boy who’s currently sprinting down the street. James catches the ball with no issue before holding it up and smirking to himself at his own small victory.

“Excellent work, boys!” Nicholas cheers. “I’d say Rienridge will have some fine, fresh players next season.”

The boys laugh as they push one another, racing towards a diner at the end of the street. Gill’s. The metal siding and bright red roof are nothing compared to the buzzing electrical sign above the door with the diner’s name glowing in bright neon-yellow lettering. Mattheo had explained that Gill’s is neutral territory; no matter what someone’s species or beliefs are, they are welcomed in the small building. Apparently, the man who owns it, Gill, is something not entirely human, but no one knows what he is. Everyone respects him though, that much Nicholas was adamant about when preparing me for lunch today.

“Don’t disrespect him or his diner,” Nicholas had warned. “He won’t take it kindly.”

I don’t plan on starting any trouble and I doubt anyone in there would start anything with us. They would have no reason to.

The door releases a quiet creak as Mattheo swings it open. The inside of the diner is bustling with life, noise, and warmth. There are a dozen or so booths, excluding the two corner booths on both ends of the building, surrounded by tall windows. Each booth and seat have bright red cushions, the tabletops a dark green. The chipped tiled flooring beneath our feet has been mopped recently but there are still a few stains here and there.

“Nicholas!” A large man, his voice deep and booming, behind the long counter lined with barstools throws his arms open and up in the air. “How have you been, my friend?”

“Gill!’ Nicholas reaches across the counter and grips the man’s forearm, holding it in an embrace. “I’ve been well. How’s business?”

The man chuckles loudly. “Business is business. Let’s discuss personal matters. I hear you’re back on the council.” He gives Nicholas the type of stare a parent would use when scolding a child. “I thought you were finished with council nonsense.”

Gill has the type of build you would expect to see on a lumberjack, but his smile and boisterous laugh gives him the appearance of being nothing more than a simple diner owner. Under that dirty apron and that red and white striped sweatshirt I’m sure there are bulging muscles and scars all over.

King senior looks away from the man, guilt clear on his face. “Things have changed, old friend.”

“I see.” Gill’s face turns towards me and his dark eyes trail over my entire frame before a small smirk forms on his thin lips. “And who do we have here?”

Nicholas’ arm slowly wraps around my shoulders, but he only hovers. “Rylan Evans, meet Anthony Gillian. Gill, I’d like you to meet my son, Rylan.”

“Son?” Gill and I both question Nicholas in unison.

No one speaks now for a moment as I collect my thoughts. I’ve never heard someone call me their son before. Nicholas had hinted around about it, but he’s never straight out said it. Noah certainly never said it. The words warmed me more than I had thought they would, whether that’s a good thing, I’m not sure.

“I bet Matt is more than happy to have another kid around the house,” Gill beams.

Nicholas rubs at the back of his head now. “Well, it’s- It’s, uh-” He glances at me briefly before promising Gill, “We’ll talk later.” He then gently touches my upper back while giving me a soft push away from them. “Go on and sit with the boys. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” I barely mumble.

His actions and words have been the most confusing thing about my transition into the Lycan universe. For someone who allegedly fought in a war of some kind he’s gentle and has been respecting my boundaries. No one else does, but he does.

“Rylan!” Mattheo shouts, motioning me over towards a corner booth. “Come on!”

I sit closest to the exit, leaving enough space for two people between me and Corey. The kid no longer seems offended when I distance myself from him, thankfully. James sits at the other exit point with Mattheo in the middle, saving room for his dad between him and James.

“What’d you think of Gill?” Corey asks. His eyes twinkle as he continues glancing between me and the large man discussing something with Nicholas. “Wasn’t he cool?”

Knowing that saying anything less would hurt the kid, I opt for just telling him what he wants to hear. “Yeah, cool.”

Corey nods. “He is! That guy has killed more people than all of our toes and fingers combined.”

“What?” I turn to Mattheo for answers.

His verdant eyes flutter closed as he sighs, a hand on his forehead. “It’s not what you think, I promise. Gill used to be- Used to be- an informant of some kind for the council.”

“He was basically an assassin!” Corey beams.

“Enforcer,” James corrects. “He never actually killed people that were on a type of contract. The council would have an issue with someone, and he would make them... disappear.”

Mattheo laughs now. “Yeah, forever. But the point is, he’s not some psycho murderer or anything. It was just his job, and it’s in the past.”

“Did he do anything for the war that your dad was in?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No, but he fought in the one Professors Grey and Dawes fought in. But he was on the other side.”

“The other side?”

James taps the table. “Lycan’s have a few enemies and the hunters are one of them. Gill used to be a hunter.”

Turning, I stare at the man once more. He’s laughing and clapping Nicholas on the arm as if he hadn’t spent years murdering Lycan’s. Either Nicholas is that likeable of a person or this Gill guy has lost his marbles.

“Not all hunters are bad,” Corey admits. “After Gill met Professor Grey on the battlefield, they became close, and he eventually was welcomed into the pack.”

“So, he’s a Lycan then?”

James bursts out laughing. “Gill- A Lycan? No, no way. No one knows what Gill is.”

“I’m not even sure Gill knows what Gill is,” Corey says. “But whatever he is, it’s pretty cool. He’s just as strong as us, maybe even stronger. Everyone that comes here respects him.”

Nicholas approaches the table and James stands to let him sit next to Mattheo. The man grunts as he sits and scoots. Once seated, he throws his arm around Mattheo’s shoulders, holding him close. An unfamiliar ache settles in my chest at the sight, and for a moment I wondered what it would have been like to have someone like Nicholas around when I was growing up. What would my life have been like had Nicholas raised me instead of Noah.

I spent years daydreaming about someone rescuing me from Noah, but no one came. He’s gone and I’m still daydreaming.

Nicholas orders us food and some shakes while the boys argue about lacrosse next year. Corey still thinks he has zero chance of making the team, but James and Mattheo are adamant that he will. Nicholas only watches them with amusement, glancing from time to time in my direction, but he says nothing.

A tap on the table breaks me from my own mind. Nicholas stares at me for a moment before asking, “Would you care to grab some more napkins from the counter?”

I only nod, slowly exiting the booth. The diner is still bustling with conversation. There are multiple people at the counter, leaning on it and talking with one another or wolfing down their food. Gill stands tall in the open area of the counter, no one seated in front of him, and the napkin holder just in his line of sight.

Ignoring the stares from a few of the people around, I reach for the napkins without a word.

“You look like her, you know.” Gill continues cleaning a shake cup with his dish towel as he says, “You have her nose and her eyes.”

“I’ve heard,” I mumble.

“Are you tired of people mentioning her yet?” He asks.

Am I? Not many people have mentioned her, and when they had it was always something kind. She seemed like a nice person, someone everyone looked up to.

“No, not really.” I shrug my shoulders.

He chuckles before motioning towards one of the red cushioned barstools in front of him. “Take a seat, kid. I think we have a few things to discuss.”

My first instinct is to glance back at Mattheo, but my eyes meet Nicholas’. The man gives me a warm smile before nodding, assuring me that sitting and conversing with the giant behind the counter would be okay. Ignoring the uncomfortable stretch of my skin, I sit down.

Gill places a milkshake down in front of me. “Strawberry. Your mother’s favorite. She ordered it every Sunday, without fail.”

I focus on him now, uncertain of how he knows my mother. The boys had said he was a type of assassin- Enforcer- who also fought in a war. My mother, according to everyone who has talked about her to me, was the sweetest person in town. The idea of them knowing one another and her sitting here with him like I am now is mind boggling.

“How did you know her?”

Gill finally looks at me, his eyes appear to glow a faint orange undertone beneath the brown. “Emelia was someone I considered a friend. She’d come in here often with her friends, eating, laughing, studying.” He runs a hand through his peppered hair. The ends barely meet his ears, but not long enough to tie back like Mattheo’s. “She could always hold her own in here back when the place would have its ups and downs. People would fight often, and your mother would shut it down just as quickly as it started. Then one day, your father caused the fighting to start, and your mother got hurt in the crossfire. I declared the diner neutral territory after that. If anyone was to fight or jab, they were thrown out until they cooled off.”

“So, he’s the reason you don’t allow fighting in here. Did he get thrown out a lot?” I ask him. I take a sip of the strawberry shake, instantly understanding why it was Mom’s favorite.

He nods, releasing a small and deep chuckle. “I’ve thrown a lot of kids out of my diner and eighty percent of the time it was your father being thrown out of here. He had a way of knowing just how to get under someone’s skin, push their buttons, your old man. But enough about him-” Gill taps the counter with a huge smile. “Let me get something for you. Wait right here.”

He shuffles off through a door, I’m assuming leads to the kitchen or a back office of some sorts, practically humming to himself. The thought of this man lifting Noah off the ground and tossing him out of the diner, a menacing look on his face, causes a soft smile to grace my lips. The smile slowly fades as I begin wondering if he knows about me murdering Noah.

“Ah, here we go.” Gill comes crashing through the swinging door and places a photo album on the counter. “These are filled with my customers, my favorite customers anyhow.” He points at a man down the counter while saying loudly, “And ole Pharis down there will never see the inside of the covers!”

The people around the counter begin laughing while jabbing at the older man with grey hair, beady green eyes, and long braided beard.

Shuffling through the pages, my eyes land on a familiar face. Three of them. Mom, Nicholas and Collin are sitting together at the counter with two other men. She looks happy, smiling with one arm draped over Nicholas and her other draped over one of the mystery men. His hair is dark, and his eyes are somehow darker, haunting almost.

“I have quite a few of your mother and father together in here, if you’d want to keep one.” The gesture is innocent, nice, but I don’t want to see them together.

“No, thanks.” I finally face him, and our eyes meet. “D-Do you know about my father?”

“What about him?” Gill tilts his head now.

I shake my head. “Never mind.”

“Kid-” Gill places his hand on the counter, making me hesitate to get up. “Say whatever it is. This is neutral territory.”

My heart races now at the idea of confessing this to a stranger. “I, uh- I killed him.”

Gills eyes slightly narrow before glancing between me and the photo in my hands. “What do you mean, you killed him?”

“What I said.” My voice grows quiet. “I killed him. Professor Kerum found me the morning after I did it. When I woke up- When Kerum got there, Noah was dead. I killed him, but I don’t remember doing it.”

His eyes widen now. He slowly nods as he says, “I understand now. Well, kid, I can’t say I’ll miss him much. I think everyone wanted to kill Noah at one point or another. If you hadn’t of done it, someone else would have.”

My own eyes widen now, and he only laughs while waving away any questions on the tip of my tongue. “We will all have to make the choice one day of taking a life. Some will choose to remain pure, and others, like us, will choose the much harder option. I wish you hadn’t dealt with taking a life so young, but it was bound to happen.” He leans on the counter. “Have you had the nightmares yet?”

My skin grows tight, and the temperature seems to have dropped. “Y-Yeah.”

“You won’t hurt them, you know.” He offers me a knowing look before glancing in the direction of my friends. “You chose to take a life out of self-defense, not pleasure. You won’t hurt them.”

“And what if I do?” My voice becomes mousey, almost silent.

Gill leans back away from the counter, stretching his arms out as he grips the edge of it. “Well, then you’ll seek asylum here in my territory until the issue is resolved, or until you’ve come to terms with what you’ve done.” He then hums out, “But you won’t need it. I have faith in you, kid.”

He seems to know a lot about what I’m going through. I hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares or my fears of hurting the boys, but he figured it out within a few minutes of talking with me. A part of me wonders now if he might know something about the smoke I’ve been seeing, and whether it’s my mind freaking out from the murder.

“Gill?” He hums in response while wiping at some dishes. “Do you ever, I don’t know, see things?”

He stops wiping the plate in his hands and slowly looks at me. “See things?” I nod. “What kinds of things, kid?”

“Things like shadows that move.” I begin tearing at the napkin in my hand. “The boys mentioned a man named Lorcan and shadow hounds. And I’ve seen shadows, but I- I don’t know if they’re real or maybe just my mind acting different because of the-”

He sighs now. “Because of the murder?” I nod once more. “I won’t lie to you, kid. Sometimes I do see things, things that nearly drive me mad, but they aren’t shadows. What you’re seeing is real.”

“L-Lorcan is real then?”

“He was,” Gill corrects me. “Lorcan is dead and has been for twelve years now.”

“Then what about the shadows and the shadow hounds-”

Gill raises a hand, a calming gesture. “Kid, even if the hounds come back, and they might, they wouldn’t dare step paw on that campus. If there was one Lycan that Lorcan was terrified of it was Kerum.”

“But why him?”

“Because they have a lot of history with one another. None of which is my place to speak about. If you want to know more about Lorcan, just ask Kerum.” He groans as he begins searching through some cabinets below, just out of sight.

“Do me a favor, kid.” Gill places a stack of napkins in front of me. “Don’t worry about Lorcan or the shadows. They can’t hurt you while you’re on academy grounds. And when you’re not, and walking about in town, run here. There will always be asylum for you here.”

I take the napkins from the counter and drop down from the barstool. “Thanks.”

Walking back towards the boys and Nicholas, my shoulders feel less heavy. Talking with someone else, a stranger, someone who understands what I’m going through, helped more than I had ever thought it would. Gill knew both of my parents, he knows what I’m dealing with when it comes to the nightmares, and he understands why I feel the way I do over my friends and the murder.

He’s right though; I won’t hurt them. Spending as much time with them as I have, there’s no way I could do it. I’ve got to learn about them and understand them more. I now consider them friends, enough to the point where I look forward to listening to them argue and play with one another in the halls and after classes. I can only hope they feel the same way about me, even when they learn how much of a monster I truly am.

Stepping up to the booth, James immediately throws his hands up while shouting, “Took you long enough! Corey’s made a mess of the ketchup.”

Corey stands up on the cushioned seat with his jacket tied around his neck while posing as a superhero. Ketchup has been smeared all over his face, some of it clinging to his long bangs. “Fear not citizens, for Ketch-Up Man is here! I shall save you from Mustard-Boy.”

Mattheo slowly turns to face me, and I suppress a laugh. Mustard has been smeared all over his face and clothing. He has a deep frown, showing just how much he hates being involved in Corey’s theatrics. As much as he looks fed up and aggravated, I know deep down that he’s enjoying himself, making his friend happy.

“Alright, boys.” Nicholas begins wiping Mattheo’s face with the napkins I’ve brought. “I think it’s time to start heading back to the academy. I do believe Professor Dawes might not appreciate you four being out too late.”

Wednesday, 4:56pm

The walk back to the academy earlier was painfully awkward. Nicholas had asked me again to stay with them over the break and I turned him down. Mattheo hasn’t even looked at me since then. I can only assume he thought I would agree to join them.

James finishes packing his suitcase for the break, tossing it up on his bed with no care. Mattheo sits on the edge of his own bed, his ankles crossed as he pushes buttons on his music device. The giant headphones on his head are blocking anyone from attempting to communicate with him. A part of me has debated apologizing, but then another part believes I have nothing to feel guilty about.

Corey rushes into the room now, slamming the door against the wall. He bends at the waist, hands on his knees as he pants out, “Follow me.”

“What?” James walks over to him. “Are you alright?”

Corey waives him off while repeating, “Follow me. I found a-” Deep breath. “I found a secret tunnel.”

Mattheo throws his headphones onto the bed. “Show us.”

I stay on the bed, watching as the three boys walk from the room. The silence echoes now, draining me of any shred of happiness I had before they left. The feeling alone is enough to make me realize just how lonely I had been before meeting them. Being here, in the academy, for an entire break without them would be a horrible feeling.

There’s a knock at the open door. Glancing up, I notice Mattheo staring at me as he leans in. “Are you coming?”

My heart picks up and my palms begin sweating. “A-Are you sure?”

“Rylan, come on!” Corey shouts.

“We’re waiting on you!” James follows.

The tightness in my chest worsens as I stand to join Mattheo. He slowly looks up at me once more before sighing. His arm lifts and his hand drops down onto my shoulder. The knowing look in his eyes is enough to bring me back from the edge of breaking.

Following the black-haired boy out of the room, my muscles are for once not as tense as they usually are when leaving the room. As we descend, I can see the other two boys waiting patiently at the bottom of the winding stone staircase. James smirks as Corey beams a smile at me, motioning for Mattheo and me to hurry.

James and Corey begin shoving one another as we run through the castle hallways, fighting to reach the outside first. Running with them, racing against them, feels like what I had thought fun would feel like all those years of isolation. The adrenaline inside is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Seeing them weave in and out of the tree ahead of me, knowing that we’re running together as a group of friends.

A pack.

We’re nearly a fifteen-minute run from the academy, deep in the woods, by the time Corey shouts up ahead. “Made it! Come on, slowpokes!”

Mattheo growls out from the left, “He knows we’re not as fast as him.”

“Maybe you’re not,” I huff out.

The taunt was something unexpected, even to me. I grunt as the muscles in my legs tighten. The ground beneath my feet crumbles into small bits of dirt that flies behind me. There’s a strain in my lower back, but I keep pushing, forcing myself to continue despite the burning sensation.

With a few more huffs of air, I reach Corey long before the other two. I fall to the ground, letting the cool and damp grass soak through my already soaked shirt. The churning in my lower stomach is nothing compared to the itch spreading all over my body. My skin tightens, breathing becomes uneven and labored, and my hands begin to tremble. From above me, I can faintly hear Corey asking me muffled questions over the blood pumping in my ears.

Through hooded eyes, there’s a brief image of Mattheo staring down at his hand. The small glance is enough for me to know what he’s debating. Whether he should use the leash.

“D-” The strain is enough to vomit as I attempt to roll over onto my front. “D-Do it.”

Three pairs of warm hands touch my backside, searing my skin. Mattheo quietly mutters, “Come on, Rylan. Just breathe through it. You’re not going to hurt us. Either let it happen or bring yourself back.”

“You can do it,” Corey whispers in my ear.

James rubs his hand over one of my scars, eliciting a growl from me. “Come back to us, mate.”

The heat in my chest, legs, and back begins to dissipate. Slowly, the cool grass on my cheek becomes the only thing on my mind. I don’t even register the hands touching me until the heat has all but gone. The only sounds now in the woods are the creaking of branches, leaves blowing in the light breeze, and my panting.

“You did it,” Mattheo praises. “I knew you could do it.”

I begin growling. “I almost didn’t.” My hand balls up and meets the ground as I pound it downwards. “You shouldn’t have been a coward. You should’ve used it.”

There’s another round of pain exploding in my backside, and I’m shoved back against the grass. Mattheo grips my shirt and flips me to face him. His face has become contorted, eyes glowing a hue of yellow.

“Why would you want me to use that- It’s disgusting!” He shakes me back and forth by my shoulders. “Kerum chained you like an animal, like some dog, and you want me to use it against you? Well, I won’t! I’ll never do that again. So, suck it up and learn how to control your shifting faster.”

The air between us is tense as the boys slowly back away from the two of us. James whispers something to Corey and then they’re gone from sight. Mattheo pants as he continues staring at me, obviously controlling his own anger.

“What’s wrong with you, Rylan?” His voice is hoarse now. “Why can’t you see that you deserve more than being treated like an animal.”

“Because I am an animal, Mattheo.” My voice is quiet, no more than a whisper. “You have no idea what I’m capable of- What I’ve done.”

Slowly, Mattheo’s grip on my shirt loosens and I’m dropped back down onto the ground. “I don’t believe that. I believe everyone is capable of horrid things, but that doesn’t make them animals. I’ve done wrong too, Rylan, but I don’t let past actions decide what kind of person I am.”

“Believe what you want,” I growl at him.

The growl hangs in the air between us for a moment before he sighs and turns away. “I also believe you’re my brother, and my brother isn’t an animal.”

Allowing myself to glance at him, my chest heaves. I’ve never had a sibling, never had a friend, or someone to call my own. Mattheo has been trying so hard to get close to me, and each time he makes leeway, I shove him from me. The thought of being close to someone, especially someone that I care about, worries me.

“What if I hurt you?”

He sighs again before turning to face me. “You don’t want to hurt-”

“Mattheo.” I hold my hand up and he stops his rant. “What if I hurt you? Just because I don’t want to, doesn’t mean I won’t. You’ve seen how little control I have over myself. What would happen if I was trapped in a room alone with you, or James, or Corey, and I shifted? I might- No.” I shake my head, a dark chuckle escaping my lips. “No, I know, I would kill one of you. What then? What do you think that would do to me?”

There’s a flicker behind his eyes, a flash of yellow once more, before he slowly smiles. The devilish grin I’ve come to know is his ‘I know something you don’t know’ look. “I know you would be broken if you hurt one of us, but we would be broken if you left us behind. Don’t keep holding back because you’re scared-” He notices the growl leave my throat and stops himself. “-worried about hurting one of us. We care about you, and we want to be your friends. I want to be your brother.”

The silence between us thickens as the air becomes heated. There’s almost no space in the open woods now as I focus on my trembling hands. “It’s going to take some time,” I admit to him. “But I think I can try to, maybe, calm down when it comes to the space and- and the touching. I just- I don’t like being touched. Okay?”

“And we get that,” Mattheo replies. “But touching is a big part of our culture. Packmates bond through touch, scenting one another. The more we smell like one another, the more we seem like a tight-knit pack.”

“I didn’t know that.” It makes sense now why the boys would always give me small touches and nudges before. They were giving me distance but still making sure I smelt like them. “I don’t know how to do the scent thing.”

“It’s easy,” Mattheo laughs. He holds his hand out and motions me closer. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

Hesitantly, I move closer towards him. His hand slowly touches my shoulder and, with focus, I can now smell his scent. It’s stronger than if I were just standing next to him. It’s as if he’s bathed in his own scent, and soaked for days. My brows raise as I take in my own scent being mixed with his.

“Weird,” I breathe. “Just weird.”

“I know, right. You just focus on the other person’s scent and envision your own scent mingling with theirs. It’s used for a lot of things, but mainly marking packs as one.” Mattheo motions me to follow him. “Come on, now. If we don’t hurry they’ll go through the tunnel all the way without us.”

It doesn’t take long to meet up with the other two. Both of them are lightly shoving one another in front of the edge of a large wall covered in vines and dried mud. The wall of rock has to be at least fifteen feet high, with a cliff that arches downwards towards us.

“Okay,” Mattheo starts, “Where’s the tunnel?”

“Behind this hill.” Corey motions towards the wall. “I was running from Finley and his servants when-”

“Woah, woah.” Mattheo holds his hands up. “You were what?”

James gives Corey a pointed look as well. “Why were you running from them? When?”

“While you two were packing,” he admits. “But that doesn’t matter. I shifted and ran until I got here. I was trying to climb the hill when I somehow slipped through the vines and found a tunnel.”

Corey motions us to follow him through the vines covering the wall of dirt and rock. Within a second, he disappears, engulfed by the greenery. Mattheo and James look at one another before glancing back at me. I shrug my shoulders, unsure of what happened just as much as they are.

James walks ahead of Mattheo and I, pushing his way past the vines until he too disappears. After shoving and ripping through the thick greenery, I trip and fall onto a soft surface. The ground beneath me is no longer dirt and twigs, but moss. The entire tunnel is exactly that, a tunnel. After a moment, my eyes adjust to the lack of light until I can make out the dirt covered walls and ceiling, and the dark green moss below my feet.

James brushes me off while coughing out, “A little warning on the tripping hazard would’ve been nice, Corey.”

“Sorry,” Corey offers.

James brushes me off while coughing out, “A little warning on the tripping hazard would’ve been nice, Corey.”

“Sorry,” Corey offers.

The four of us continue down the tunnel for two minutes before finally reaching another opening. The tunnel leads to an open field surrounded by tall trees and overgrown bushes. There’s almost something manmade about it, the way it’s unnaturally a circle. The trees overhead bend just enough at the tops to create a half-dome over the field. The bark on the trees around us is heavily scented in something like cinnamon, causing the field to smell like the inside of a bakery.

Corey’s stomach rumbles from in front of us. He turns to face us with a sheepish smile. “Smells like cinnamon rolls in here.”

“Yeah, it does,” James agrees. “Strange.”

There’s a cracking noise as Mattheo slowly shifts into his wolf form. The dark grey wolf with black ears and paws begins sweeping the edges of the circle with his nose to the ground. Every few seconds his ears will swivel, and his nose will twitch. He stops and stares in our direction before releasing a low bark. The boys look excited now as they high-five one another.

Not understanding their excitement, I ask, “What’s going on?”

Corey smiles proudly as James says, “Corey’s just found our new secret hideout.”

“You’re right I have,” Corey cheers while running through the clearing.

As he runs, the kid shifts and starts chasing Mattheo around the border of the circle. James sits back and watches them chase one another, humming with a smile on his face. The three of them really do behave like a pack of wolves. They’re close-knit and protect one another. Becoming part of their pack would prove to be difficult, but I did tell Mattheo that I would try.