Western Russia, 2026

& I wake up.

It surprises me every time, but I do it. Deep breathes, in, out, in out. I'm alive. Let's focus on that. Focus on the air that flows through my nose, taking with it the smell of the man beside me- the musky smell of sweat, with an undertone of old blood not yet washed off. And, of course, werewolf.

So I focus on the fact that I woke up from my dream, alive and safe, and try desperately not to remember who didn't survive the dream. Or, more accurately, the nightmare. The memory.

Bear Valley, New York, 2020

"So. . . if you had to choose?"

"I'm not answering this," he says, casually switching his backpack from right to left shoulder, " cause I've said it before." Logan can be such a pain.

"But, you know, refresh me. You're opinion might have changed. This is important stuff." I choose to ignore the huff he sends my way, as we walk to the parking lot of our school. The heat radiates from every pore of my body, and Logan's. I inhale the sweet, almost earthy smell of sweat. I don't let any of this distract me from my mission. I'm nothing if not persistent. " Would you rather have lasagna or meatloaf? Cause-"

"-Wait. Who's cooking again?" Of course he asks me that. In our house, that makes all the difference.

"Player's choice." I reply, as we approach the convertible. Perfect for speed, especially in this summer scorcher. Before Logan can, I throw my bag in the back and jump up front, beside the man with the summer tan-already- and the curly blonde hair. Like my own.

"Hey," he drawls.

"Dad, did mom-" Logan is so rude, already off asking Dad questions before we even finish our conversation.

"Yeah, she got your call about swim practice. Damn inconvenient schedules if you ask me, but hey, it's a skill." The southern drawl smothers my grunt of annoyance as Logan finally hops into the back seat and we pull out of the parking lot, heading out of town. As we drive past the trees, all prior conversation in forgotten. This is heaven, I think. I know these trees, all of them. There is no place this perfect.

The wind blows back my curls, pushes them from my school uniform, as the sun presses against my face. The leather seats are warm to the touch, but not too hot. If Jer wasn't expecting us home for the weekend meet, we would probably stop for ice cream. And when we were done, stop for more ice cream.

The ride continues, uninterrupted, as we pull up to Stone Haven. This fortress lies away from the round, surrounded by acres of grounds to walk- or run. No where is as peaceful as this, I think. I look at my father and brother, my whole world.

Logan, my twin, is everything every parent wants in a son. Intelligent, considerate, patient. His straight, golden hair is cropped short to his head, brightening his blue eyes even more. Dad has the same color, but the texture, that's all Elena. My mom. I have her color,silver blonde, but I wish my curls were the color of his. At thirteen, Logan was beginning to look more and more grown up. His build was nothing like my Dad's, of course it wasn't, but there was a softness missing from even just the last Pack Meet. He had grown taller too, but since I am with him practically every minute of every day, I have to really look to notice the minute changes. The swimming he does had added a bit of definition, as much as a thirteen year old can have, anyway. Logan was beginning to develop a swimmers build, the result of doing it since-according to my parents' 'cause I don't remember- that first Parents and Tots swim lesson. Looking at my brother, sitting casually in the back seat, head upturned to the sky, absorbing the sun, I can see a promise there. A promise of what he might look like when we are both fully changed werewolves.

Oh, did I not mention that?

Well, my parent's are werewolves. And Jer, he's my Dad's adopted father. My grandpa, I guess, but that would make him sound older than he looks. My uncle Nick and uncle Antonio are also fully changing, full grown werewolves. Antonio is Nicky's father, but they don't look much older than each other. Good genetics. Nick is my favorite.

We are all a part of the American werewolf Pack. There are others, other Packs, but I've never met any of them. Then there's Karl, Joey, and Lee that are also a part of the pack. They are all coming to Stone Haven this Friday- today- for the Meet. Then there are the Danvers'- my family.

Elena, my mother, is beautiful, tall, and powerful. Clayton, my father, is pretty much my world.

& Logan. Who is my world. He's my other half, always has been. Twins are that way, I guess. Well, at least we are.

"Hurry up, gotta get inside!" My Dad is already out of the car, yelling at us to hurry, and up by the front door. Logan grabs his bag and swings out of the convertible's side as I slip out in front of him. Our pace matches perfectly, as it always does.

The door swings open, and a forceful, yet feminine, arm reaches out and grabs my Dad by the collar of his black polo shirt to pull him in the house. Then, the same hand appears again. Then a face, my mother.

"Logan, Kate, you're even slower than your father!" She laughs, and my father grumbles something from inside. Logan looks at me, a crooked smile pulling at his lips, as I reach for his hand and we head in to start the Meet.