I immediately noticed two things: firstly, the place we arrived at after a couple hours of driving and half an hour of walking looked like a deserted summer camp, whose wooden shacks were reminiscent of late nights by the fire; secondly, this place had likely never seen a human before me.

It all looked a little too perfect, as if someone had assembled the shacks to look like they'd harbored a dozen bunkbeds and flattened the grass in spots where the children would've played. But there were no carvings in the wood, no lost and forgotten playthings laid about; the longer I looked at the clearing, the more certain I got: this had never been a summer camp, it was only an expertly crafted illusion to avoid human attention if smoke was ever seen from afar.

We'd arrived before most, even though we'd taken the long route, and that might've had something to do with the fact that I had driven. Still, Vine wasn't going towards the cold fireplace to sit and wait.

As soon as we stepped out of the tree border unto the clearing, he was hurrying towards the largest shack. Its back wall almost touched the tree line behind it, but it was kept clean in comparison to the other builds. Some moss had spread over the wooden columns but there were no signs of the planks rotting away like the other huts' wood did.

There was also a slim shadow besides it, waiting patiently.

As soon as I recognized that it was Neal, who'd transformed into his human form and found some clothes already, I could make out more shadows between the trees. The pack was here; two dozen giant wolves waiting for leave to mingle with their lesser-seen friends and family.

Neal gave us a curt nod before he separated from the trees and stepped to the front door of the shack. He knocked twice, then he entered without waiting for a sign from inside.

While he disappeared into the shack, Vine's hand landed on my arm.

"We need to wait", he mumbled nervously.

Nervously?

"Vine, how serious is–"

"You can come in", called Neal from inside, pushing open the creaking door before he returned inside.

Without an answer to my half-spoken question but an encouraging smile, Vine pulled me inside with him.

The room was dimly lit, probably because there was no electricity on the grounds. The shadowy figures of two men hovered at a study desk. Behind it, the wall was covered in old bookcases.

I blinked into the half-light, hoping to make my eyes adjust quicker.

We hadn't stepped into a medieval fortress with a cellar for torture and no hypermodern mansion with Lamborghinis parked up front, but the authority of the old man who was sitting behind the table was obvious – even to an outsider like me. It could be traced in Vine's stiff shoulders and his extensive explanations about the etiquette I would have to follow in this room. Only after I'd promised not to make dark jokes or show strong emotions on any impulse, he'd let me get out of the jeep.

I could feel goose bumps building up on my skin, but there was a part of me that enjoyed this. Finally, I'd get to see inside the world which had been closed off to me for so long.

The faintest smirk grew on my face.

"How exciting, a new face." As we'd entered the room, the old man's eyes had fixated on me and didn't wander. Their color wasn't discernable in the dim light, making them little more than black buttons under tired eyelids. "Who am I meeting?"

Neal stepped forward, his face filled with shadowy edges and rigor, that made my chest constrict. I wanted to follow him, but the slight pressure on my arm made me stay still.

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