Walker waited till around midnight, when the moon was high in the clear, navy night sky, to sneak into the greenhouses. After a week of it, he had gotten good at getting in and out without disturbing anyone. Although, maybe sneak wasn’t the right word exactly; it wasn’t like he was breaking in or anything.
The door was always open and unlocked. If there had ever been a key – and he supposed there had at some point because there was a rusty, cast iron lock that presumably matched it – then it had disappeared generations ago.
Not to mention… they were his greenhouses. Legally speaking, could he even break into them? Of course, the packs didn’t have a police force, so it was all hypothetical. Still, not only had he designed and built them, but he was the current reigning alpha.
So, no.
