His Ghost

The deep timbre of my father's voice reverberated in the caverns of my memory, his words lingering like an eerie forecast. Each syllable bore the heavy imprint of age-old knowledge. "The Kitchen of a pack house is a lowly place. But if your role thrusts you into the Shifter world, use it to your advantage. Rough diamonds fill it, but they will protect you and provide invaluable information." His steely gaze bore into me with fierce determination.

The kitchen had become my fortress, a stronghold of secrets and alliances. An entrenched clang of pots, simmering stews, and hushed conversations held the pulse of the Benson Pack, one of America's most influential and affluent Packs. My presence here was enough to light the old fuse between two opposing worlds—Shifters and Lycans—threatening to tear everything apart in a fiery explosion.

I learned more about the Bensons and their pack than they knew. As expected, it was a bubbling pot of betrayal, power struggles, and hidden agendas. Any chance I had of finding the source of my problems was here.

I pressed my shoulder against the hefty back door of the frenzied kitchen, and a wave of heavy-metal music crashed over me. Greta was in charge of the day's soundtrack, and her choice brought a grin to my face despite the surrounding clamour.

Greta was stunning. She towered over most with her long legs, and her fiery red hair and emerald eyes had a magnetic pull that ensnared every man who looked at her. But beneath her alluring Jessica Rabbit facade lay an unyielding warrior spirit, often revealed through her coarse language. It was as if she wore this contradiction like armour, warding off any unwelcome advances—a pre-emptive strike from day one. Our connection was instantaneous.

Amidst the sizzling pans and clattering dishes, a familiar wolf whistle cut through, causing me to swivel my head. "Look who showed up," Tony's voice boomed over the din of the early morning music. His thick Italian accent was as robust as the espresso he guzzled daily. The sous chef was a relentless ball of energy, and his enthusiasm was infectious—albeit exhausting.

His surprise visit last night - with Greta and a bottle of vodka in tow - had left me nursing a hangover beyond my supernatural resilience. I wasn't your average creature of the night, and my recovery times were more akin to those of mere mortals.

I darted towards my station, tying my apron hastily as I weaved through a sea of delivery men hauling crates packed with fresh produce from the estate farm, The Orchard.

It always struck me as peculiar that they didn't call it The Farm, considering its offerings were beyond fruit trees. Every facet of agriculture thrived here, from fields bearing various fruits and vegetables to pens housing livestock. Even a full-time butcher and bakery were within the Estate's borders. It was what Shifters called a super pack - self-reliant and functioning like a little village in the supernatural world.

Tony started complaining about the kitchen layout as the delivery men moved through the cooking stations to the cold rooms. He pointed out how their presence further delayed me from fulfilling my duties - drawing all eyes towards me in amusement.

As our eyes met, a mischievous grin stretched across his face. I responded with the middle finger. Laughter filled the air before everyone resumed their tasks and conversations. Greta offered a comforting wink, understanding my discomfort at being thrust into the spotlight. I loathed attention.

They were the kitchen contract team—a compact group of five members, including Greta and head chef Viktor. Viktor had taken Greta under his wing two years prior, and she transformed from being an unprotected lone wolf to travelling with the group. The team's arrival coincided with mine six months ago, a fortunate event when Viktor recognized me among twenty other shifters vying to work with his team. He took me in and made my transition here smoother than I had imagined.

They were the first all-shifter and ex-enforcer team, chosen by the new Alpha to support his policy of multi-skilled estate residents, who also defended it. It was controversial. I found that odd in a shifter pack. Assuming you would want all your members trained fighters, but then it made sense with all the backstabbing behind closed doors.

The shifter world in Northern America was tense and under attack from growing rogue numbers. Was this pack so arrogant that it thought its name would defend its borders? No one had any answers, and everyone was suspiciously quiet, leading to rumours the old families were involved in reclaiming land from weaker, less powerful families. And more problematic for me, the talk that Lycans were behind it. I needed to stay out of Shifter politics. Even so, it fascinated me.

As usual, Tia stood across from me, her eyes downcast and puffy. She was always punctual to a fault. I offered her a cheery hello. Tia was what they called latent (late to arrive in the supernatural world). They had the wolf gene but grew up in the human world, unaware of their true identity. Until some event forced their abilities to kick in?

It was hard for them to adjust because of the changeling nature of our magic, unlike those born and raised surrounded by magic, who effortlessly transitioned between forms. Latents struggled. At twenty-two, Tia would have a slow and dangerous learning process ahead of her.

The modern magic realm had its fair share of complications, including the entanglement with humans. Shifters, unable to control their primal urges, often found themselves in fleeting relationships with human women, leading to the current predicament. Tia's story was a classic example; she never knew her biological parents and experienced an involuntary semi-shift during a morning jog. A witch found her and called a local pack. The council then assigned her a pack, marking an irreversible shift in her life path. I felt compelled to help her, not out of pure altruism but because of my desire to safeguard our kind and a fascination in this modern world and how odd it was they never taught the elements of magic; these girls survived, not thrived.

When Tia looked at me, tears had swollen and reddened her eyes. We each had our lodges, but I couldn't feign obliviousness to her plight. This pack housed a large number of latent Shifters who were disregarded.

"Another rough night," I said, knowing it was self-inflicted. Despite the constant advice, Tia refused to heed warnings about whom she should associate with. Explaining that this wasn't the human world and that different norms prevailed here was futile.

"No, everyone's preoccupied with the new challenges." Her words were unconvincing lies.

I lost interest. Matt, Viktor's assistant, entered the kitchen angrily. He had no patience for Tia's behaviour. As one of Viktor's old guards, Tia's naivety frustrated him. "Did you mess up with Matt?"

Silent sobs escaped as tears trickled down her cheeks. "I proposed that he move me to the dining hall as a server, and he publicly exploded at me, saying if I persisted, he would relegate me to the Orchard, picking fruit."

"My suggestion would be to stop asking. The Alpha dislikes Latents, and the high-ranking families often dine there. You need to grasp the rules of pack life first, Tia."

"If I were human, I wouldn't be here. I'd be in New York working as a PA. Here, I'm an outsider, neither human nor a shifter. I am nothing." Her words dripped with bitterness. It wasn't hard to understand her desire to work in the dining hall; she was beautiful, and snagging an enforcer could elevate her status within the pack. But her naivety about Shifters' fickle attitude towards women—replacing them as frequently as they changed clothes—was frustrating.

Her attitude began grating on my nerves, so I switched topics, "What new challenges?"

"The Alpha wants everyone to prove themselves," she said, her voice trembling with apprehension. "Because of the surge in rogue assaults, everyone on the Estate must undertake tests." The announcement was a blow to Tia and those like her. The Benson pack had significant security problems. Powerful elders and non-contributing members dominated the Estate. It was only now that I noticed enforcers showing up—probably triggered by the return of the Benson Brothers after a six-year hiatus.

"The Alpha is acting in everyone's best interest. He and his team are often absent," I tried to reassure her, but Tia remained sceptical.

She leaned over the table, whispering, "Have you ever seen a Lycan? They say they're monstrous creatures, akin to vampires—bloodthirsty and pitiless."

Tony cut in, leaning against the counter, exuding cliche Italian swagger, his face displaying disapproval. "Why so glum, my favourite kitchen bitches? Your fear is choking me." He directed his attention to Tia and added, "Correction, yours is, and Erika, you need to teach her to control it." He dismissed me with an eye roll. Despite his urban polish, he still had that untamed masculine aura—characteristic of shifters.

"We're working on it," I told him before turning my attention back to Tia, shaken by Tony's remark. He tossed an onion at her, snapping her from the sullen mood. She retaliated with a gentle jab at his muscular arm—a weak move that further boosted his ego.

"You're so strong." Tia teased while rubbing her hand against her shoulder, pretending it hurt. She played coy with men, vying for their attention and approval. If she ever found herself among the unattached it-girls here, I was confident Tia could happily embrace this world.

"Her time in this world has only been half a year. Cut her some slack," I said.

"You've been here for six months. You know the rules,"

"My circumstances are different, and you are aware of that."

Viktor picked me out immediately; he knew my family. I felt compelled to rationalize my placement here. His enthusiasm wasn't excitement, yet he permitted me to brief his team and assured me they would back me up if circumstances spiralled out of control.

Viktor's team comprised ex-enforcers not aligned with any pack. However, he provided their expertise to packs—a unique subset within the paranormal sphere. He didn't dread the possibility of being ousted from a pack. I chose not to disclose that three other girls were here on the Estate with me or that I was pursuing not just rogue Lycans but also a feral werewolf. The entire situation was tangled and too intricate to delve into further detail—I feared it might strain his support of me. I also harboured doubts about his function here. Rumours suggested he met with Carter and Guy at night in the dining hall—I doubted it was about the menu.

"Whatever Princess. Teach her combat techniques. Things are about to get rough around here." My gaze followed Tony's enormous frame as he returned to his post—anticipating the relentless training and testing we would undergo by the pack.

"Can I run with you and Greta in the mornings? I should have accepted your offer before." I nodded in agreement, doubting it would make a difference.

The back door burst open, and Lucy Walton entered. She positioned herself at one of the steel tables. Her impeccably groomed nails drummed restlessly against the countertop—an unspoken command to snap into action. She hadn't officially assumed the role of Luna yet, but it seemed inevitable again: gossip. Her designer purse slung over her shoulder, and her posture radiated arrogance and superiority, proclaiming her status. I wondered how many backs those claws had scratched to get where she was.

Before setting foot here, my brief mentioned the Walton family's fall from grace during Alpha Richard's initial years as Alpha—money troubles were the root cause. Miraculously, they managed a resurgence and rekindled their alliance with the pack's upper crust. Despite her stunning looks, Lucy was notorious for her unpleasant demeanour; my low tolerance for bullies and prima donnas made me avoid socializing within the pack.

"Rumour is the Alpha is losing interest in Miss Lucy. This could be her final grand entrance. I wonder if mommy will keep footing the bill for those extravagant outfits when there's no one left to fuck," she said as she joined us, where the three of us were elbow-deep in stuffing. Meanwhile, Lucy pinned an A3 sheet onto the whiteboard.

Lucy Walton's mother, Caroline Walton, was renowned for her ability to climb the social ladder. Rumours circulated that she had used sex to ascend through the ranks until catching the eye of Carter Benson.

Her mother was once Richard Benson's chosen mate, but that ended when he left following a family disagreement and returned with his true mate four years later. His punishment was that his mate was not recognized as Luna. Now, the powers that be intended for Lucy to become what her mother was denied.

"Hush, Greta, Lucy wants everyone's attention," Tia announced, staring at Lucy like she was a goddess to behold.

"Tia! Your habit of befriending vipers has not worked out well. You should watch your mouth," Greta said.

Two months ago, Tia was in the medical centre after a beating from another she-wolf she thought was her friend. She pissed off all the right people and sucked up all the wrong ones. It will be her undoing. Viktor's booming voice filled the room, demanding everyone's attention and causing the walls to tremble. Greta lowered the volume of the music, making way for Lucy's carefully crafted façade to become the focus.

"We train tomorrow, and everyone must earn their place on the Estate. Failure is removal from the Estate. For non-pack members, this is your chance to gain permanent residency. For pack members, this is your chance to rise in rank, become warriors, and secure your spot here."

She sashayed out of the room, leaving a wave of anticipation and unease. Ten others were working as kitchen hands, all on probation for residency or transferred from other packs. The room fell silent, and everyone returned to work. Tia was quiet. I wanted to remind her of the perks of being in a pack but didn't mention the subpar security, hence the Alpha's new rules.

"Tia, they won't exile you to a different pack. You might move to a secure community and work in town. Living on an estate is a privilege, inherited or earned through unique skills. The pack will protect you even if you're not here." She nodded half-heartedly. Greta was also quiet. I pieced together Greta's story from bits of conversation. At fourteen, she ran away from her old pack, spending nine years working in vamp bars and underground fighting clubs before meeting Viktor. Greta was a survivor.

Greta casually added, with a hint of satisfaction, "Let's not forget that you are a she-wolf, which makes you valuable for breeding." Shifters obsess about finding their true mates and keeping the species alive. And you are every shifter's fantasy, beautiful, submissive and defenceless." Greta smiled at Tia, like the cat that got the cream.

Tia's hands trembled as she stared at Greta, fear and disbelief on her face. I glared at Greta and her cruel words. Tia dropped the bowl of leftover stuffing onto the floor while staring at Greta.

"Ignore her. Clean that up before Viktor sees, and get your head out of that world of doom," I snapped. Tia scurried off to grab a broom. "Was that necessary, Greta?"

"Yes, it was; she is not as innocent as you think. Stop shielding her. That girl has created more fights in her lodge than anyone. Tia sinks ships. She clings to a life raft, escaping while others bucket water."

"I think you are being dramatic." My words cut through the tension.

"You'll see! Your world and mine are very different, and you don't know women like I do." Greta muttered.

"Ladies! Those Chickens don't jump up and stuff themselves, stop talking and hurry. Forty men are coming in for our first lunch seating, and you are far from getting them in the ovens."

"Yes, Chef."

"Erika, finish your work in five minutes and prepare for the dining hall. The Alphas team is coming for lunch today. Ensure everything is ready." He bellowed at me ten minutes later. "And tell the servers to behave themselves. They're serving the Alphas team, not drooling over them like schoolgirls."

"Yes, Chef."