I laugh. “Oh, Hamilton. Of course not. We’re staying at my grandmother’s cottage.”
“Absolutely not.”
“There are no five-star hotels in the middle of Wolfstone Preserve,” I point out. “But don’t worry—I’ve got everything arranged.”
I spent half the night stocking food that would satisfy both wolf appetites and pig palates with lightweight packs with extra water (pigs dehydrate faster than wolves in the woods), and trail maps marked with rest stops every mile or so. Hamilton would rather die than admit weakness, but I know the difference between city fit and forest fit. These pampered pigs would need breaks, whether they wanted them or not.
I warned the rest of the pack to stay clear of our route, though, Alpha Thorncrest wasn’t happy about “those bacon bits trespassing on sacred ground.” I’d had to promise this was necessary for them to understand what they were destroying.
“Just be prepared for a five-mile trek before we get there. You just need to bring yourselves and maybe a change of clothes. Though I’d recommend something other than Armani.” I gesture to his perfectly tailored suit.
“This is Brioni, not Armani,” Hamilton corrects automatically, then looks annoyed at himself for engaging.
Percy claps his hands together. “Sounds fun! It’ll be just like college. Remember that trip to Lake Oakwood, Ham?”
Hamilton growls.
“I’ve never been hiking,” Prescott says quietly, looking both intrigued and mildly terrified.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “Bring extra bug spray and wear comfortable hiking boots.”
“Wait,” Hamilton says, holding up a hand. “I want to be crystal clear about what this little… excursion… is supposed to accomplish. Are you under the impression that if we see some pretty trees and your wolf relatives frolicking in meadows, we’re going to abandon a development project worth millions?”
I meet his gaze steadily. “I’m under the impression that if you see what you’re about to destroy, you might reconsider how you’re destroying it.”
“Developing,” he corrects.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I shrug. “Look, I’m not naïve. I know development happens. But there are ways to build that will respect the land and the creatures who already live there. If you’re as brilliant of a businessman as everyone says, surely you can figure out how to make money without obliterating an ecosystem.”
Something shifts in Hamilton’s expression—just for a second, but I catch it. A flicker of… what? Respect? Curiosity? Whatever it is, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Fine,” he says brusquely. “Two days. We’ll see your precious wilderness. But this changes nothing about our plans.”
“We’ll see,” I say, unable to keep the smugness from my voice. “Meet me at the north trailhead tomorrow at 5 AM. Dress comfortably, and maybe try to leave the attitude in the city.”
“I’ll bring the attitude for free,” Hamilton says with a tight smile.
Percy groans. “Please tell me 5 AM is a joke. No one should be conscious at that hour.”
“Early bird gets the worm,” I say with mock cheerfulness. “Or in this case, early wolf gets the… pig.”
Hamilton’s eyes narrow at the implied threat, though I meant it in jest.
Mostly.
“I’ll prepare the equipment requirements,” Prescott says, already typing something into his phone.
“Don’t bother,” I tell him. “Just bring yourselves and clothes you won’t mind getting dirty.”
“I don’t own clothes that I don’t mind getting dirty,” Hamilton mutters.
“Then buy some,” I suggest sweetly. “I hear they sell them at the Porkwell Mall.”
Percy laughs, earning another glare from Hamilton.
“One last thing,” I say, walking backward toward the exit. “No phones.” Before the inevitable protests can start, I continue, “You can bring them for emergencies, but there’s no reception out there, anyway. This is about experiencing the land, not checking your email.”
I reach the foyer, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. “5 AM. North trailhead. Don’t be late.”
