Chapter 8: Arrival

As soon as the plane touched down, I felt the chill hit me like a punch to the chest. Chase, Alaska, was as cold as the rumors had said, and then some. The town itself was barely a shadow of what I had imagined—a cluster of empty, weather-beaten buildings, standing as if waiting for the inevitable winter that would likely last for most of the year. It was so quiet, so still, it felt almost deserted. There were no bustling markets, no busy streets—just a few scattered houses and shops that looked as though they hadn’t seen a visitor in ages. The kind of place where time itself seemed to slow down.

The air was thick with a sharp, biting cold that made it hard to breathe at first. It stung my skin, sending a shiver down my spine as I stepped out of the plane. The snow-covered ground stretched out before me, a pristine, untouched white that seemed to go on forever. I could see the looming silhouette of the Foraker Mountain in the distance, its peak covered in thick snow and jagged cliffs. The mountain was massive—an imposing giant that dominated the skyline, casting an almost oppressive shadow over everything beneath it.

It was hard to believe that people actually lived here. The snow fell in gentle flurries, swirling around in the gusts of wind that came sweeping down from the mountains. It wasn’t just snowing—it was snowing, as if the sky itself had decided to bury the land under layers of thick, unrelenting white.

We drove away from the airport, the tires crunching through the snow, heading deeper into the wilds of Alaska. As we moved farther from the town, I noticed how the landscape grew even more desolate. The trees were sparse, leafless and skeletal, their branches clawing at the sky. The forest was thick, but there was a barrenness to it that made me feel small and insignificant. The wilderness here didn’t welcome you—it seemed to watch you, cold and indifferent, as though waiting for you to leave.

After what felt like hours, we finally reached the Foraker Mountain Pack’s compound. It was nothing like I had imagined. The entrance was marked by large, iron gates, heavy and reinforced. The air felt different here—tense, charged with an energy I couldn’t quite place. I glanced at the warriors standing at attention, dressed in military-style uniforms, their faces hard and uninviting. They didn’t smile, didn’t greet us. They just watched. Their eyes were sharp, focused, and I felt my heartbeat quicken under their scrutiny.

As we drove deeper into the compound, the first thing I noticed was the way everything was arranged—strategically, with precision. The cabins were simple, built with log walls, but they were neat and organized in rows that seemed to have a purpose beyond just housing. Everything had a place, every cabin in its exact spot. It felt more like a military base than a pack home. There were no open spaces for gathering or communal areas like I was used to. Everything here seemed controlled, regulated.

And then, at the very back, stood the pack house. It was massive and intimidating—larger than any building I had ever seen, its sharp edges and dark wood casting a long shadow against the overcast sky. The house sat far from the rest of the cabins, isolated from everything else. I could feel the weight of its presence even from here.

The snow continued to fall, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white. It was so cold that I could feel it seeping into my bones, the chill settling deep inside of me. I pulled my coat tighter around my body, wishing for warmth that didn’t seem to exist here.

As we pulled up to the entrance of the pack house, I couldn’t help but feel a knot tighten in my stomach. This place was unlike anything I had ever known. It was harsh, cold, and everything about it screamed discipline. There was no room for softness here.

And then, as if summoned by my thoughts, I saw him—the alpha of the Foraker Mountain Pack, Alpha Rhett. Standing in the doorway of the pack house, he looked like a man who didn’t have time for pleasantries, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a sharpness that made me feel even smaller. His muscular frame and towering height made him seem like an unmovable force.

He barely acknowledged me as I got out of the vehicle, his gaze cold, calculating. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was judging me, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of my albino appearance or simply because he was the kind of alpha who valued strength over anything else.

I had so many questions, but as I took my first steps into the compound, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t in Arizona anymore.