You climb out of bed, grab a towel, and head towards the bathroom. It's a small retrofitted room at the very back of the warehouse. Cheap lino flooring, a loud fan, and a toilet that gurgles alarmingly when it flushes.
The shower isn't too bad though. At least it can muster some decent water pressure. You've just stripped and stepped under the hot spray when someone knocks at the door.
You groan. You really need your own place. Sharing a bathroom with twenty something werewolves is hard.
"I'll be out in a minute!"
"Hey. No. Don't."
It's Vicky.
"You howled. Are you okay?"
You close your eyes and take a moment to fight the sudden, suffocating storm of humiliation that crashes into you.
She isn't talking about a sound. Not an audible one, anyway. Werewolves aren't psychic in the traditional sense. You can't hear each other's thoughts, thank God. But can call out to each other telepathically. These 'howls' are what allow you to know where your pack is when you're hunting. They're also how you call for help when something goes wrong.
You don't need three guesses to know what kind of howl you were broadcasting.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just bad dreams."
She doesn't say anything. You start to think that maybe she turned around and marched away the second she realised there wasn't a threat for her to fight. That seems like a Vicky thing to do. But then, she does speak, in a voice so soft it's hard to pick up over the splash of water.
"Me too."
You frown. "Wait. What? Are you okay?"
"Yes," she answers, voice firm and clear again. "I should have woken you sooner. The Alpha has asked to meet with us. You, me, Marco, and Ed. He also told us not to discuss what happened yesterday with anyone else in the pack."
Your frown deepens. "When?"
"Soon. Finish your shower and come downstairs."
This time you hear her booted feet as she leaves.
You rub your brow. You'd expected this. Even so, you wouldn't have minded more time to get ready before having to face the Alpha again.
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