Before she can stop me, I stride toward the large glass-walled conference room at the end of the hall. Through the transparent walls, I can see all three brothers huddled around a table covered with blueprints and a scale model that I immediately recognize as Wolfstone.
My hackles rise.
I push open the door with enough force that it hits the wall with a satisfying bang. Three pork-faced heads swivel toward me in perfect synchronicity. It would be comical if I weren’t so furious.
“Gentlemales,” I say, crossing my arms. “Let’s talk about Wolfstone, shall we?”
Hamilton is the first to recover, his heavy brow furrowing as he straightens to his full height. In his black suit and power tie, he looks every bit the corporate predator.
“Ms. Wolfhart,” he says, voice cold. “This is a private meeting. I believe my assistant informed you that we’re not available.”
“Funny thing about wolves,” I reply, stepping closer to the table. “We’re terrible at taking orders from pigs.”
Percy—standing to Hamilton’s right—looks caught between embarrassment and genuine pleasure at seeing me.
His dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, and his expression softens when our eyes meet. For a split second, I remember the feeling of his hands on my skin, and I hate my body for the involuntary flush that follows.
“Ruby,” he says, my name sounding different in his mouth than it did when he was whispering it against my neck. “I didn’t expect to see you until Friday’s community forum.”
“I bet you didn’t.”
The third brother, Prescott—known to most as Scott—stands with a subtle bounce in his step. Unlike his siblings, his delight at the interruption is evident. His thick-rimmed glasses and slightly rumpled t-shirt lend him the dishevelled tech-genius vibe that’s charmingly him.
“Ruby, it’s great to see you again,” he says warmly, moving around the table with a friendly smile. “I’ve heard you’re still keeping my brothers on their toes with your wolf conservation work.”
His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can’t help but smile back as I shake his hand. “It’s good to see you too, Scott. How’s the tech world treating you these days?”
“Busy as ever,” he replies, a hint of modesty in his tone. “I’m handling the tech side—sustainable energy systems, smart home integration, zero-carbon footprint tracking. You know, the ‘boring’ stuff no one notices until the eco-toilet stops working.” He gestures toward his brothers with a playful eye roll.
Hamilton clears his throat loudly. “If you’re quite finished, Scott, perhaps Ms. Wolfhart could explain why she’s barging into a private meeting?”
I refocus on why I came here, eyes narrowing as I step toward the model on the table. It’s elaborate—showing the entire valley, the creek meandering through it, the hills where my pack runs during full moons, all rendered in perfect miniature.
“I’m here because I found these.” I pull out my phone, scrolling to photos I took of Percy’s plans. “Security measures specifically designed to keep wolves out of their own territory? Anti-prey fencing with shock capabilities and silver? Motion sensors that emit high-frequency sounds only canids can hear?” I look at each brother in turn. “It’s not just development. It’s targeted biological warfare against my species and other predator shifters.”
Hamilton doesn’t even blink. “It’s standard security for a luxury development. We have a duty to protect our residents.”
“From what? Wolves who have lived there peacefully for generations? Wolves who only want to preserve their ancestral lands?” My voice rises with each question.
“From any potential threat,” Hamilton says smoothly. “Our buyers expect certain… assurances.”
Percy steps forward, gesturing to the model. “Ruby, look, I’ve actually made significant changes since we… since our discussion. I’ve expanded the green corridor here and preserved this entire section for wildlife passage.”
I glance at the model where he’s pointing. It’s a marginal improvement, sure, but it’s like saying “I’ll only cut off four of your fingers instead of all five, aren’t I generous?”
“The sacred howling rock is right in the middle of your golf course, Percy.”
He winces. “I’ve actually designed the course around it. It becomes a feature, see? We’re marketing it as embracing the natural landscape and honouring the area’s heritage.”
“By building putting greens around a spiritual site?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “That’s not honouring anything. That’s commodifying it.”
Prescott—Scott—clears his throat. “For what it’s worth, I’ve designed some pretty cool tech that might help. Automated systems that go quiet during full moons, wildlife corridors with heat-signature recognition to avoid potential hazards…”
I whirl on him. “So you’re helping them, too? I thought you weren’t involved in the development side.”
“I’m not.” He shrugs. “I just provide solutions when they ask for them. Makes the whole project more environmentally friendly.”
“There’s nothing environmentally friendly about destroying natural habitat,” I snap.
