The drive to the pack's sprawling resort felt less like a celebratory family trip and more like a high-stakes, psychological endurance test. Because of the 'togetherness' mandate, we all crammed into one large car—Mom, Eryx, Theon, Loren, and me—guaranteeing maximum, suffocating proximity.
I ended up wedged in the back seat, trying to be smart by placing myself between Loren (my comfortable, safe buffer) and the window. But the seating arrangement was instantly my undoing: Theon slid directly beside me, and Eryx was riding shotgun, often turning in his seat to chat.
I became a helpless sandwich, pinched between Loren’s large, muscular wolf frame on one side and Theon’s solid, large human build on the other. There was virtually nothing left of the seat for me; I was practically perched on
