The Plan

Chapter 2: Kayden

“How many times do I have to explain it to you? We cannot expect the teachers to do more work for less pay. I won’t have it. We either need to hire more teachers or cut back on the programs we’re offering.” I tug slightly at the dirty, blond curls on top of my head as a frustrated sigh leaves my assistant principal’s mouth. We have been at this for weeks now. The number of teachers flying out of the classroom due to policy changes and inadequate salaries is astronomical. It’s a miracle we have enough even to justify a school at this point. I've been the principal at Lone Oak Elementary in the small town of Granville, Tennessee, for ten years now. I spent a few years in the classroom but quickly realized I was a better fit for administration. Being able to touch the lives of all the students in the school instead of just a select few. Georgia, my trusty AP speaks up, “Well, then I suppose we will have to cut back on our after and before-school programs. Perhaps only offering it to those who are low income, and the parents that have specific work hours.” That seemed like as good a plan as any to me. It wasn’t ideal. Many students thoroughly enjoyed our before and, more specifically, our after-school program. It allowed them to express themselves and remain among their peers for a few more hours before heading home. But asking more of our already spread-thin teaching staff would not be an option. “OK. We’ll let the parents know at the open house. Or we can send a pamphlet home with the students, but we both know only 20% of those will actually make it to the parents.” Georgia forces out a laugh at my half-ass attempt at a joke. Georgia has been by my side for 6 of the 10 years I've been in this position, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She is trustworthy, hard-charging, and always knows what I often need before even I do. The perfect assistant. Many people have wondered why our relationship hasn’t progressed any outside of its professional nature. And if I was an average human male, there would be no reason for it not to. Except that, I’m not just a human. And I’m anything but average. My brothers and I make up the Hendrix pack. The Hendrix pack has been the reigning alpha pack in the area for centuries and that wasn’t going to change on my account. But we had to find our mate. Something that we had been trying to do for years now. Every wolf shifter pack was born to another alpha pack and their fated human mate. You see, shifters were only ever born as males. There hadn’t ever been a female wolf shifter born in our community. And because of that, the alpha packs had to find a human to mate and breed with to carry on the shifter gene. But not just any human. This woman would have to be Luna blessed and chosen for us. They say you know the second you lay eyes on them. You’re drawn to them in ways you could never articulate, and when you make physical contact with them, it's like an electrical charge sent straight to your heart. We had traveled the world, been as many places as we could think, and yet we still hadn’t gotten this experience for ourselves. Whoever she was, she was the missing piece to our puzzle, and we so desperately wanted to find her. Some shifters had tried to mate with just any human woman, but these packs could never produce any offspring from the relationship. And while that might be enough for some, it was not something I was willing to settle for. My brothers have tried to convince me of it more than once. Claiming we could be happy, complete, and the beasts that resided inside of us would finally stop pestering us to find and breed our mate. But mine knew that wasn’t the truth.

We have to wait until we find her. The time is near. I can feel it.

Well, that was new. Not my wolf speaking to me; that happened more often than even I would like. But the foreboding message that came this time was not something he had expressed before. He was usually very grumpy and bitter in nature. But with this, I felt a twinge of hope seep through our bond. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I can’t worry about something I don’t fully understand, and I have plenty to worry about with school starting right around the corner. “Did you see we have two new students joining us this year?” Georgia’s question helps break through the rabbit hole my mind was headed down. “No? Really? Are they related?” We never got new students. Our tiny town didn’t offer much in the way of employment and not many people were jumping at the bit to move here. It was one of the things I loved most about this place. “Yup. Sisters. Charlotte and Reagan Wilkins. Moving here from Bryan, Texas. Charlotte is going into 3rd grade and it looks like Reagan will just be starting kindergarten.” Hmm. I wonder what brought their parents to move to such a small town. And right before the start of school. At least the girls wouldn’t be behind. Something is my gut flutters, and I can’t help but feel drawn to these girls. I've never even laid eyes on them, and something tells me they will be significant somehow. Weird. “Well, we will have to make a point to find them and their parents at the meet the teacher event on Monday and introduce ourselves.” I offer back to Georgia. With that, she sets the file back down on my desk with the information on the new students and walks back to her office down the hall. I stare blankly at the file. What could be causing such a reaction within me to just these girls' names? I pick up the file out of curiosity. Flipping it open, I start to read the very surface-level information that has been entered during the initial registration paperwork. Usual stuff like birthdays, social security numbers, vaccine records, any previous schooling, and medical conditions. Nothing stands out. I glance down at the emergency contacts. I see Hazel Wilkins listed as the first point of contact. Obviously, the girls' mother. But what’s interesting is that I don’t see any other points of contact listed. No father is listed in the girl's paperwork. I wonder if this is why they have moved to such a remote town. Maybe they're running from something or someone. Something unpleasant unravels in my chest, and I can't help but feel uneasy about this situation even though I don’t have any real reason to. She very well could be an ordinary, single mother, moving here to start a new life. But why did my gut tell me this mysterious woman was anything but ordinary?