Ghost took a drag of his cigarette and blew smoke circles, watching it dissipate into thin air. His eyes stared off into the distance.

“We are here, boss,” someone announced, pulling him out of his musings.

He peered through the car window at the tall old building in the distance. “The werewolves live here?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Pedro responded. He was one of Sergio’s men. “This is the mountain ridge pack territory, and that is the pack house.”

It wasn’t all that bad, but it was definitely a far cry from his mansion in Italy. The thought that there was a chance that he lived in a house...