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Sam turned down the gravelled driveway, her eyes trained on the large building as she approached. It had been so long since she'd been back, at least a year, and despite the familiarity of the chalet, she couldn't help but pick out minute differences. The wood seemed more worn, almost darker against the vibrant background, making the house seem grander, more ominous. The ivy that grew up the side of the house had grown, extending itself into the eaves of the roof.
Sam stopped her motorbike, cutting off the engine. In the ensuing silence, all she could hear was the chirping of the birds, and the rustle of the wind through the trees. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face at the comforting sense of familiarity that blossomed in her heart as she took in her home. Clambering off the motorbike, a wide grin plastered itself on her face and her insides jumped up and down with excitement as she walked down the last part of the drive.
The packhouse rose majestically at the end of the driveway. Located in the middle of the Canadian Rockies, the solid wooden structure was imposing despite the grandeur of the mountains around it, yet it fit into the scenery, blending in as if it belonged there. A set of stone steps led up to the entrance, neatly trimmed gardens on either side, yet the land around the chalet had been left to grow wild, creating a perfect contrast of civilisation and wilderness that Sam loved. Large ivy plants grew up the sides of the house, yet the front was kept clear, to maintain the incredible view of the valley from the balconies above. At this time of year, the flowers had begun to bloom, filling the air with the thick scent of pollen and covering the house in gorgeous red hues.
Reaching the front door, she noticed how deserted the packhouse seemed. Unlike other packs, members weren't obligated to stay in the house except for two weeks during summer when the annual meeting was held. The meeting, where subjects such as the income of the pack, the upcoming mating season and prospective new members were discussed, was essential to help the running of the pack, as having members across the globe was rather difficult. Sam wasn't surprised that the house seemed so deserted, as members weren't officially expected until tomorrow, yet she was slightly miffed that no one was there to meet her.
She wandered up the stone steps, appreciating the view as she walked. But despite the beauty of her surroundings, she couldn't help but scan the horizon, on the lookout for anything unusual. It had become a subconscious reaction, born from years of running and fighting, to be constantly wary of her surroundings. Although the mountains were one of the few places she could really relax, that niggling anxiety still resided in the back of her mind.
She pushed open the large oak doors, walking into the surprisingly light entrance hall. Although on the exterior the chalet was a strong unified wooden structure, its interior had been moulded by the personality of its residents and appeared to be a hodgepodge mess of colours and designs that one couldn't help but love. Each room had been designed according to its residents' wishes, with no expenses spared. Not that anyone knew where but the money came from, but Sam had her ways.
Sam sniffed the air. Although there were lingering traces of the scents of other werewolves, she could detect no fresh scent, only an overpowering mustiness. Sam heaved an exasperated sigh as she realised that yet again she was the first one back in time for the two-week meeting that was meant to start in a couple of days. She trailed her suitcases up to her room on the second floor and dumped them down. As she moved through the bedroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, sighing at her unruly appearance. She had been travelling quite a while and her ginger curls had become frizzy with the heat of her helmet, her freckled cheeks were flushed and her face shiny. She yanked off her leather jacket in the hope of cooling off, and laid it down on the bed next to her bike helmet. Taking one last look in the mirror, she yanked her hair up into a messy bun, before moving through the house, opening windows to let the sun, and more importantly, some breathable air, into the rooms.
As she moved through the house, she arranged for a couple of local cleaners to come by early the next morning. Goddess knows that no one in the pack will be cleaning any time soon, she thought. That was one of the issues with the lack of hierarchy in the pack, people did what they wanted when they wanted and although that worked most of the time, when it came to cleaning it certainly did not.
It had been two years since Sam had started the first-ever open pack. It had never been her intention, but after leaving her previous pack at the age of eighteen, she had moved to Montreal in the hope of escaping the sense of imprisonment that she had felt in her previous pack. Yet her Alpha genes had attracted rogues of all shapes and sizes to her presence, and the new pack had formed as naturally as it did out of necessity. Despite the unintentional start of the pack, Sam had accepted its creation. In an effort to remove the imprisoning hierarchy she so loathed, thus distancing themselves from traditional pack life, and to allow its members to retain their freedom, the pack maintained very lax regulations. There was no official hierarchy, and wolves were free to come and go as they pleased. As most members were rogues, who had willingly given up traditional pack life for their freedom, the organisation was welcomed by all members when Sam had suggested it, shortly after she'd realised that a pack was unintentionally forming around her. Newer members, including rogues, rejects and escapees, weren't necessarily on board with the lack of hierarchy idea, meaning that the existence of the packhouse enabled an acceptable middle ground. It also meant that despite her dread of accepting the title, Sam had gradually become the unofficial Alpha of the 'Rogue pack'. She knew the oxymoron often made people laugh but the name seemed to stick and it did describe the pack really well. Sam didn't even use the word pack, in her mind she thought of it as more of a big family.
Sam paced through the house, unsure of what do to next. She had uni work that needed doing but she really couldn't be bothered. It was the start of summer and essays were currently that last thing she wanted to be doing. She would much rather be in the lake, or taking full advantage of the incredible gym downstairs.
Workout and then a swim! she decided.
Sam quickly changed out of her jeans into a pair of leggings. Grabbing her swimming costume and a towel to avoid having to come back upstairs later, she then dashed down the stairs to the basement. Originally, the basement had been some sort of grand dungeon with small dark rooms filled with mystery and a sense of danger, but all the rooms had been knocked into one, to create an enormous training space perfect for the entire pack. They'd had it set up with all of the latest gadgets as well as basic gym equipment.
Although she usually spent her time in the gym working on her combat skills, Sam decided that it had been far too long since she'd done any form of cardio in her human form. She much preferred running in her wolf form, as it gave her an incredible sense of freedom and power. But it did mean that she wasn't as fit as she would have liked, so she begrudgingly stepped onto the treadmill, and hit play on her phone.
An incredible playlist and a lot of sweating later she stepped off the machine feeling much more relaxed. Glancing at the machine, she felt pride as she read out the numbers; 20K in an hour and ten minutes, not her best but still pretty good, even for Alpha standards. Alphas were supposed to have increased strength and stamina. The best of them could run twenty kilometres in under an hour. Without the official title, Sam's abilities were reduced, yet she still prided herself on the fact that she could hold her own amongst the ranks of Alphas. Although that was probably due to her extensive training and her bleak past more than anything. She moved into the middle of the room and did a couple of stretches, feeling her muscles protest. She let herself slip into her current daydream as she let her muscles relax, but a sudden noise jolted her out of her reverie.
Removing her headphones, she trained her ears, trying to identify the sound she had heard. A loud scraping resonated above her, accompanied by two sets of footsteps. Sam tensed and sniffed the air. Making out a deep, unmistakable, sandalwood scent she sprinted up the stairs.
She grinned as she rounded the corner and gripped the newcomer in a bear hug.
"Obi!! It's so good to see you again, how have you been?" She exclaimed.
"You too little one, I've been keeping busy, but ready to get back down to business." His eyes twinkled as he chuckled, clearly happy to be back home.
At fifty-seven, Obi was the oldest member of the Rogue Pack. His past was quite cloudy, and nobody really knew where he came from. He was a storyteller at heart, and so the tales he told around the pack fires about his extravagant and mysterious past were questionable at most, meaning that no one really knew much about him. But he was trustworthy and reliable, making him the pack's most trusted advisor and a great mentor.
Next to him stood his mate, Béa. Although more reserved than her partner, she was a soft kindred spirit who cared for the younger members with a motherly affection. Her arms wrapped around Sam, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Sam couldn't understand how, but Béa had a way of making you feel safe and loved with every hug, and Sam could feel herself relaxing in her arms.
Sam helped them carry their bags up to their rooms as the pair chattered happily.
She knew it was petty of her, but she had desperately hoped the twins would be the first to arrive. The trio were different in every way, yet somehow fit together, like jigsaw puzzle pieces. They had met at university and had quickly become fast friends. Sam had often wondered if there might be something more than a friendship there but usually stopped herself before she let her thoughts get away with her. Neither she nor the twins had met their mates yet, and although wolves often dated before they mated, she couldn't let herself go down that path. Especially not with the two people who were closest to her. Could she?