The battered pickup truck rumbled down the long, winding dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust that momentarily obscured the dense forest bordering the path. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white against the worn leather. Beside me, Ethan stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the blur of trees, a quiet tension radiating from him. He hadn't spoken much since we left Clearwater. He hadn't spoken much in the last six months if I were honest. The silence was a heavy blanket between us, punctuated only by the occasional groan of the truck.
"You okay, Ethan?" I asked, my voice gentle. I glanced at him, my brow furrowed with concern. He'd lost weight, and the shadows under his eyes seemed permanently etched there. His once vibrant, almost mischievous, eyes now held a dull, haunted look. He resembled less a mischievous imp and more a brooding poet.He shrugged, not turning. "Just thinking.""About what? The existential dread of existence? Because same," I quipped. "Or were you composing a dramatic sonnet about the injustice of kale?"Ethan snorted, a flicker of his old self. "Kale is an affront to nature. And my soul.""See? You're not completely dead inside," I said, grinning. "Just mostly dead. We can work with that."Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just drive, Ellie. Before I start writing an epic poem about your questionable driving skills."I chuckled. "Hey, I got us here, didn't I? Besides, a little white-knuckle driving builds character.""Or trauma," he muttered.I sighed. I knew what he was really thinking about. His ex-mate, the reason we were here, in this remote corner of Montana, far from Clearwater and the painful memories. And the other reason, I thought grimly, a chill running down my spine. I placed a hand on his arm, a silent reassurance. "New beginnings, remember? Fresh air, big trees, no drama."Ethan gave a small, humorless chuckle. "Right. Because wolf packs are known for their lack of drama." His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.I winced inwardly. I knew he was right. We hadn't escaped drama; we'd run from it. And it had a way of following us. Our hasty departure from Clearwater had been a chaotic mess of whispered accusations, tearful goodbyes to the few friends we had left, and the ever-present fear of discovery. We'd left in the dead of night, packing only what we could fit in the truck, leaving behind our comfortable home and the life we'd built. The memory of those last frantic hours still made my heart pound.The truck crested a small rise, and the trees parted to reveal a sprawling valley. A cluster of houses, built from logs and stone, nestled amongst the pines. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the air carried the scent of pine needles and woodsmoke. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic. Almost. I hoped, prayed, it was peaceful. I needed peace. Ethan needed healing."Wow," Ethan breathed, a hint of awe in his voice. It was the first sign of genuine interest he'd shown in days.I nodded. "Pretty, isn't it? This is Havenwood. Our new home." I'd received a message from an old colleague, Dr. Jasmine Sharma, a pack doctor I'd worked with years ago. Jasmine is from Havenwood pack and had urged me to join her, promising a supportive community and a chance to focus on my work. "She even gave you a cool nickname, 'E-dawg'."Ethan groaned. "Please tell me that was a joke.""Nope. Straight from the source. Apparently, everyone here gets a nickname. Yours is...special," I said, barely suppressing a laugh."I'm going to be 'E-dawg' for the rest of my life, aren't I?""Probably," I admitted cheerfully. "But hey, it could be worse. You could be 'Fluffy'."Ethan shuddered. "Don't even joke about that."Jasmine had even helped us find this small house, a modest two-bedroom cabin on the edge of the territory. It was smaller than our old place, but cozy and welcoming. I hoped it would feel like a sanctuary.As we drove further into the valley, I noticed figures moving amongst the houses. Some were clearly human, others… well... I just hoped these shifters were less…volatile than the ones in Clearwater. The Clearwater pack had been rife with internal power struggles, and the constant shifting in public had become a liability. Especially for us.I parked the truck in front of our new cabin. The porch was adorned with hanging baskets of vibrant flowers, a welcoming touch. As we stepped out, I stretched, my back aching from the long drive. Ethan remained by the truck, his gaze sweeping the surroundings, a flicker of unease in his eyes."It's…nice," he said, his voice hesitant."It is," I agreed. I grabbed our bags from the back of the truck. "Come on, let's get settled in. Jasmine said she'd bring over some…well, hopefully something better than kale."As we walked towards the cabin, I noticed a figure approaching from one of the larger houses further down the road. It was a woman, tall and athletic, with a cascade of dark hair that flowed down her back. She waved, a warm smile gracing her features."Ellie! E-dawg! Welcome to Havenwood!" she called out. It was Jasmine.I smiled back, a wave of relief washing over me. It was good to see a friendly face. "Jasmine! It's so good to be here."Jasmine hurried towards us, her smile widening. "I'm so glad you both made it safe and sound. Come on, let's get you settled in. I've got some stew on the stove, and I'm sure you're both starving."As we walked towards the cabin, Jasmine chatted about the community, the local wildlife, and the clinic where we'd be working together. She carefully avoided mentioning the specifics of the pack's hierarchy or leadership. I was grateful for that. I wasn't ready to delve into pack politics just yet. I just wanted a moment of normalcy, a chance to breathe before the secrets we carried caught up with us in this new haven.