Page 51 of Ice Rebel

“No, nothing like that. We’re having a pack meet and cookout. We have some important business to discuss.”

“Okay. Please don’t tell me there’s been another murder or a missing child and suddenly everyone thinks a shifter nabbed them in the woods like the big, bad wolf.”

Dad chuckled. “Nothing like that, son. Things have calmed down a lot since the corruption in congress was blown wide open.”

Yeah, he was right. Things had been quieter the last few months, including with protestors coming to the games. There were more supporters than ever before. That’s good because there wasn’t a shifter in sports who wasn’t sick to fucking death of being treated like their fans needed to lock their doors and keep silver bullets in their weapons.

“Then what?” I threw open the door, heading inside.

“There’s a company going around North Bend making an offer to buy some of the larger parcels of land.”

“Shifter land or folks in town?” There were several shifter families in the pack who owned anywhere from twenty acres to five hundred. Our family owned close to five hundred on the outskirts of North Bend where our sawmill was located. There were several non-shifter families who owned larger acreage as well.

“Shifter land. They claim it’s because of the location.” More were on the outskirts at the base of the mountains where there was enough room for young wolves to run and learn control. The area was pristine, some of the most beautiful in Washington State. With rivers and lakes, the mountains as the backdrop, it was an incredible location for wolves to hunt without fear of running into humans.

“What kind of business do they want to build?”

“A huge data center. They are all the rage and with Seattle being such a techy area, it’s a natural location to build one.”

“A data center. I’ve heard those aren’t good for the environment?”

“Yeah.” My father wasn’t notoriously good at holding his disgust about something. I could hear it in his voice. “There’s a lot of concern, but the worst part is that if only half the families agree, it’ll be enough land for them to go ahead. At this point, we haven’t had a single answer provided that seemed satisfactory.”

“What is city council’s position?”

“They appear all for it. Anyway, it’s past time we have a conversation as a pack to determine where we stand as a group. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Dad had been the pack leader since just after I was born, taking over from our grandfather. He was highly respected, not only within our shifter community but in the area as a whole. Our sawmill provided timber for dozens of projects.

“But you’re worried. Aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say the promises already made have tempted a few families. I don’t think they understand the ramifications.”

“You tell ‘em, Dad.”

While he laughed, I heard the continued anxiety. He wasn’t telling me everything. “Are you still going to be able to drop by and see Mr. Hanlen? He likes talking to you.”

Mr. Hanlen was one of my father’s oldest clients. While his furniture-making company wasn’t huge, he was loyal to a fault and his pieces using our wood sold for in the thousands. He’d been disgruntled with the last load and Dad hoped I’d smooth it over. “Of course I will. Planning on stopping by after practice.”

“Take him a signed picture of you in uniform. He likes that. Let me know if you have any issues.”

“Stop worrying, Dad.” My father was worried about the declining business, which he’d hoped to be his sons’ legacy. I prayed that didn’t mean he was considering selling.

“Go enjoy the game and knock ‘em dead.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” I shoved the phone into my jacket pocket and headed toward the locker room to change. While there were several vehicles in the parking lot indicating a few workers were in the building, I had the place mostly to myself.

I dropped my bag, quickly changing clothes. As I yanked on my practice jersey, I thought about what my father had said. I couldn’t lie and say I wouldn’t mind making an NHL team. It was a big deal and as kids with Ford and Beck, all we’d done was talk about how cool it would be to end up on the same team one day.

We’d imagined the glory, being celebrities anywhere we went. That was before we understood how unlikely it would be to receive an invite to join any professional team. Injuries had kept me from advancing or so that had been the excuse. The truth was that I hadn’t taken the career but so seriously. Especially after seeing the reception the first shifter hockey players had received.

The Masters brothers were legendary in the NHL, some of the best players ever seen in the league, but what they’d endured in achieving success had been a precursor to several difficult events. Maybe seeing what they’d gone through had soured me where my brothers had used what they’d gone through as a high voltage cattle prod.

The truth was closer to home. I’d paid closer attention to the few stories my father had told us when we’d been very young about his own career. I’d seen the videos. Compared to the three boys he’d raised, he’d been the best player by far. While he hadn’t wanted to dwell on the truth, he’d been required to tamp back his incredible talent after facing accusations of cheating based on nothing but innuendos and lies. How could he be so fast? How could he be so strong? All things natural to a shifter and everything he’d warned his kids about highlighting.

He’d been on the cusp of people realizing there was something different about a few million people.

Yeah, lamenting over my father’s career wasn’t doing me any good. Everything had changed in less than five years. The only people I had to prove anything to were my coach, myself, and my team. As I grabbed my stick, I did my best to shove aside my usual second guessing myself.