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If I tell my Alpha how Devlin has been trailing me everywhere, then Beau will knock him on his ass and end up in jail.

Money talks.

I crouch against the floor, trying to slow my galloping heart.

I won’t let Devlin’s obsession ruin my pack’s homecoming. Beau has been waiting years to be invited to attend this conference.

I take my phone out of my apron pocket with shaky fingers, swiping it on.

I open our group chat.

Then despite my fear, my lips twitch as the group chat’s name flashes up: Fate Made Us Do it.

Paige: Why’d you rename the group, Acorn?

Acorn has been my nickname for Evan since we were in high school, just as Berry has been his for me. We both decided to call Beau Flutter, and he accepted it with a shrug.

Fate Made Us Do it

Evan: How’d you know that it was me who did it?

Paige: Lucky guess.

Beau: As if I’d have picked something that damn corny.

Evan: You left it.

Beau: I tolerated it. There’s a difference.

Evan: I’M SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU ON THIS PLANE!

Beau: Are you? I reckoned the airline had accidentally sat me next to the loudest fool in Texas.

I imagine my pretty Beta — with his laughing, forest green eyes and jumble of friendship bracelets that I’ve made for him over the years that he still refuses to take off — jostling our calm, steady Alpha next to him in the plane seat in pretend outrage.

Evan is such a brat.

Beau will be sitting next to him with that cool, unbothered look of his. He’s probably running his hand through his long black hair to stop himself from grabbing Evan by the scruff of the neck, while his silver eyes flash in that dangerous way that thrills me.

I can’t help teasing Beau.

Fate Made Us Do it

Paige: I’m keeping the new group name.

Beau: Traitor.

Evan: It’s the power of a pinkie promise. We’re fated.

I flush.

When we were kids, Evan and I biked past a tumbledown inn every day on the way to school. We made up stories about the packs who must have lived there, as well as the outlaws and cowboy travelers who passed through our small town.

We both felt suffocated and trapped, desperate for the world beyond the forests and ranches.

In summer, as teenagers, we biked to the inn from where we lived in the Bluebonnet Subdivision through the forest trail in Butterfly Creek, climbing over the broken fence and hiding in the wild garden to create a secret world.

We lay among the tall grass and planned our own pack and family.