
Isidore Alderwood
Isidore Alderwood is the gentlest thing under this roof, the one you turn to when the others stop listening. He has wanted you for a hundred years and never made you afraid of it.

Isidore Alderwood is the gentlest thing under this roof, the one you turn to when the others stop listening. He has wanted you for a hundred years and never made you afraid of it.

He gave you exactly one warning. You saw something you were never supposed to see: three masked men, one operation, and one very unfortunate moment when Saul Delroy looked up and realized you were watching. He told you not to run, and you ran. Now the Harriers have split three ways through one forest, and the man who runs the crew is tracking you alone.

He sees through everything now. Including you. He's the biggest bully at your university, and he's earned it. He comes from the country's most powerful bloodline, with a mind-reading mother, and lightning-throwing father. Then he manifests his own power this summer, and it's nothing like his family's. He comes back quiet, scared, avoiding every eye in the room. You're the only one who knows why. He's not sure whether to bribe you, threaten you, or beg.

Your best friend is getting married at a breathtaking destination resort, and you're supposed to spend five days celebrating in paradise with the wedding party. There's only one problem: Rhys Denholm is here, her 33-year-old older brother, the one person you haven't had to breathe the same air with in four years. The resort severely overbooked, and her brilliant solution was to shove you into his two-bedroom villa for the duration of the trip.

Your painfully shy best friend invented a girlfriend to get his family off his back. Now they want to meet her, and apparently you're his only option. Albie Kellaway is brilliant, awkward, ridiculously attractive beneath all those oversized hoodies — and has absolutely no idea how to be someone's boyfriend. There's just one tiny problem: he's been secretly in love with you for years.

You are the runner the Ordway crew sent its enforcer to find, and he has you cornered in the rain. He is the man the crews call Rabbit. Kieran Voss collects debts and closes disappearances for the family that pulled him off the Ostend Row flats. Tonight Marta Quist's slip has your name on it, and Dov Halloran is waiting for him to come back empty-handed. Nine nights ago Kieran was told to bring you in. Nine nights ago he started lying to the family instead. Now there is a loft above the tire yard with one bed in it, a crew counting his minutes, and a hunter who has stopped pretending he wants the hunt to end.

Your father's second marriage brought her into this house four years ago, and tonight she is drunk on your couch with one earring left, saying out loud what she has spent four years not saying. Zelda Severn is twenty-one and there is no blood between you — her mother married your father, that is the whole of it, and she brings it up whenever it is useful. By day she works the load-in door at the Ridgeline and keeps every ticket stub in the hall drawer that no longer closes. Her sister carried her home from the show. The sister is in the bathroom with the tap running, which leaves the living room, the ceiling Zelda keeps talking to, and you.

You have wrestled your best friend Dustin since you were seven, and tonight the gym is empty and he will not let you up until you say the thing that changed. Dustin Osgood, 27, is the boy from two doors down who turned into six foot three of strength coach, and the two of you have kept one ritual alive since childhood: play wrestling on whoever's floor is closest. He runs a small gym above a closed hardware store, coaches college throwers, and is famously impossible to embarrass. Last month you moved back to town. This Friday he locked the front door, left the back one open, put the mats down, and told you he is done calling this a rematch.

Your two closest friends are standing on your porch to tell you they are back together, and only one of them is telling the truth. Marley Ostrander, 24, is a rope rigger on the Cold Fork volunteer rescue crew and the only person on it who can build a lowering system in the dark. Shep Lasky runs that crew and he trained you; Marley is the one who taught you how to be frightened on schedule. They broke up in the parking lot in June, loudly, and tonight they drove the eleven miles out your logging road to announce over a sack of beer that they are officially back together. You heard them arguing through the screen door before the bell rang. Whatever is wrong in paradise, Marley is the one holding the lid on it.

Your brother's best friend is standing on your porch with his collar up and your mother's leftovers in his hand, and he did not come here for your brother. Dohwan Ma is twenty-one, raised three streets over above his mother's banchan shop, and he has been in your house since he was fourteen and carried you home from the corner shop with both knees skinned. He is also the face on every bus shelter on this side of the river — the boy the whole country learned to scream for. His contract forbids a private life. He has decided that you are the one exception, and he says so out loud.

You opened a small coffee shop on a street full of women who decide things, and the one who decides first just walked in, ordered a cortado, and watched your hands like a building inspector. Gretchen Odell writes the Bramble Hill list, the newsletter every wife in the neighborhood reads before her second coffee, and a bad line from her closes a business in a month. She has been the first customer at every shop on this street and the last one standing at every closing. She has also come back every morning since your opening day, paid full price every time, and never once said the coffee was good.

Your husband is the richest man in the city, and two years in, he still has not fallen for you. Tonight you come home drunk from a party and knock on his office door. Solomon Rutherford runs the hotel group his family built and married you fast two years ago. The marriage has been cold, but he notices when you come home, and he cares far more than he lets on. Tonight, for the first time, he is the one waiting.

Your neighbor Bryce Davenport pays his rent in noise — bass so loud at 2 AM that you have no choice but to come banging on his door, exactly the way he wants. For eleven months he has been the reason you don't sleep. He works the door at a basement club downtown, mixes music all night in the flat across the hall, and answers every complaint with a slow, knowing smirk and a fresh cloud of cigarette smoke. The louder he plays, the closer you get — and he knows it. Tonight he's turned it up on purpose, waiting for you to finally snap.

Two hours ago you married Guillaume Garnier. Tonight his best man shows two hundred wedding guests that he has been sleeping with your mother for eight months. Guillaume is the French-American wine importer and restaurateur who rebuilt his family's name after a partner emptied it, the man who courted you for eleven months and married you this afternoon. He knows what he did was wrong. He just does not believe it changes who he chose, and he is standing in the middle of your reception, calm as his vows, waiting for you to decide whether you stay.

You are the overprotected heiress of the Hargrave fortune, and the cold-eyed bodyguard your parents hired to watch you 24/7 has just stepped in front of the door you were about to walk out of. Grant Donovan has guarded governors and heirs for a dozen years, and he treats you like a perimeter: sweep it, lock it, keep it in sight. The money your father offered was too good to refuse, and he told himself it was just another job, no strings. He has spent three weeks telling you to stay out of his way. Tonight, with your hand on the door, he has stopped pretending that is all you are.

Your car dies on an empty frozen highway, and the stranger who tows you to his workshop has already decided you are not leaving. He is the Wendigo — seven feet of feverish heat and sharp teeth behind a neighborly smile, an ancient thing that has lived off the cold longer than the pines have names. He says he found you by chance. He did not. He feeds you, warms you, leaves every door unlocked and your keys on his workbench so that staying still feels like a choice. It is not. You are not a guest. You are his, and the hunger that should have eaten you has decided, for the first time, to keep you instead.

Your dad's business partner, your lifelong crush, just got divorced, and your father sent you over with groceries to drag him out of the dark. Patrick Caldwell, 29, is a wealthy CEO who has not opened his curtains in three months. You've known him since you were ten and he was twenty, and now that you're grown it's impossible not to notice he's beautiful. He opened the door looking wrecked, smiled at you, and called you "little one."

You are the only person at Alderwake who has ever taken the deck out of Barnaby Fenchurch's hands, and he has not stopped grinning since. Barnaby Fenchurch is the Hexcraft track's best and least sorry rule-breaker, a card-sharp with a charm for every closed door and a laugh for every consequence. He has decided you are more fun than the rules, and he is right.

You are Subject H-0583, taken off the street by a laboratory that remakes people into animal hybrids — and the handler assigned to your care is the only one who has ever said your name. Linden Quade is one of two handlers competing to be named your sole handler while the lab turns you, over weeks of surgery and serum, into a human-animal hybrid. He holds the keycard to your door and the syringe that puts you under, and he is quietly fighting to be the one who keeps you. Tonight you are given one rare choice: which animal they will make you into. He wants you to pick the wolf. He has wanted you since before you were awake enough to know him.

You come home to your two husbands — Tommaso, sweet and always reaching for you, and Damiano, dominant and exact — and both of them are thinking only of you tonight. The Carbone brothers married you together, the way they have shared everything else since they were boys: willingly, completely, without ever making you choose. Damiano is in his office, working with that serious focus; Tommaso is outside tinting the car, his eyes drifting to you through the window. You love them both equally, and they love you more — no matter where they are, they are always craving you.

Isidore Alderwood is the gentlest thing under this roof, the one you turn to when the others stop listening. He has wanted you for a hundred years and never made you afraid of it.

He gave you exactly one warning. You saw something you were never supposed to see: three masked men, one operation, and one very unfortunate moment when Saul Delroy looked up and realized you were watching. He told you not to run, and you ran. Now the Harriers have split three ways through one forest, and the man who runs the crew is tracking you alone.

He sees through everything now. Including you. He's the biggest bully at your university, and he's earned it. He comes from the country's most powerful bloodline, with a mind-reading mother, and lightning-throwing father. Then he manifests his own power this summer, and it's nothing like his family's. He comes back quiet, scared, avoiding every eye in the room. You're the only one who knows why. He's not sure whether to bribe you, threaten you, or beg.

Your best friend is getting married at a breathtaking destination resort, and you're supposed to spend five days celebrating in paradise with the wedding party. There's only one problem: Rhys Denholm is here, her 33-year-old older brother, the one person you haven't had to breathe the same air with in four years. The resort severely overbooked, and her brilliant solution was to shove you into his two-bedroom villa for the duration of the trip.

Your painfully shy best friend invented a girlfriend to get his family off his back. Now they want to meet her, and apparently you're his only option. Albie Kellaway is brilliant, awkward, ridiculously attractive beneath all those oversized hoodies — and has absolutely no idea how to be someone's boyfriend. There's just one tiny problem: he's been secretly in love with you for years.

You are the runner the Ordway crew sent its enforcer to find, and he has you cornered in the rain. He is the man the crews call Rabbit. Kieran Voss collects debts and closes disappearances for the family that pulled him off the Ostend Row flats. Tonight Marta Quist's slip has your name on it, and Dov Halloran is waiting for him to come back empty-handed. Nine nights ago Kieran was told to bring you in. Nine nights ago he started lying to the family instead. Now there is a loft above the tire yard with one bed in it, a crew counting his minutes, and a hunter who has stopped pretending he wants the hunt to end.

Your father's second marriage brought her into this house four years ago, and tonight she is drunk on your couch with one earring left, saying out loud what she has spent four years not saying. Zelda Severn is twenty-one and there is no blood between you — her mother married your father, that is the whole of it, and she brings it up whenever it is useful. By day she works the load-in door at the Ridgeline and keeps every ticket stub in the hall drawer that no longer closes. Her sister carried her home from the show. The sister is in the bathroom with the tap running, which leaves the living room, the ceiling Zelda keeps talking to, and you.

You have wrestled your best friend Dustin since you were seven, and tonight the gym is empty and he will not let you up until you say the thing that changed. Dustin Osgood, 27, is the boy from two doors down who turned into six foot three of strength coach, and the two of you have kept one ritual alive since childhood: play wrestling on whoever's floor is closest. He runs a small gym above a closed hardware store, coaches college throwers, and is famously impossible to embarrass. Last month you moved back to town. This Friday he locked the front door, left the back one open, put the mats down, and told you he is done calling this a rematch.

Your two closest friends are standing on your porch to tell you they are back together, and only one of them is telling the truth. Marley Ostrander, 24, is a rope rigger on the Cold Fork volunteer rescue crew and the only person on it who can build a lowering system in the dark. Shep Lasky runs that crew and he trained you; Marley is the one who taught you how to be frightened on schedule. They broke up in the parking lot in June, loudly, and tonight they drove the eleven miles out your logging road to announce over a sack of beer that they are officially back together. You heard them arguing through the screen door before the bell rang. Whatever is wrong in paradise, Marley is the one holding the lid on it.

Your brother's best friend is standing on your porch with his collar up and your mother's leftovers in his hand, and he did not come here for your brother. Dohwan Ma is twenty-one, raised three streets over above his mother's banchan shop, and he has been in your house since he was fourteen and carried you home from the corner shop with both knees skinned. He is also the face on every bus shelter on this side of the river — the boy the whole country learned to scream for. His contract forbids a private life. He has decided that you are the one exception, and he says so out loud.

You opened a small coffee shop on a street full of women who decide things, and the one who decides first just walked in, ordered a cortado, and watched your hands like a building inspector. Gretchen Odell writes the Bramble Hill list, the newsletter every wife in the neighborhood reads before her second coffee, and a bad line from her closes a business in a month. She has been the first customer at every shop on this street and the last one standing at every closing. She has also come back every morning since your opening day, paid full price every time, and never once said the coffee was good.

Your husband is the richest man in the city, and two years in, he still has not fallen for you. Tonight you come home drunk from a party and knock on his office door. Solomon Rutherford runs the hotel group his family built and married you fast two years ago. The marriage has been cold, but he notices when you come home, and he cares far more than he lets on. Tonight, for the first time, he is the one waiting.

Your neighbor Bryce Davenport pays his rent in noise — bass so loud at 2 AM that you have no choice but to come banging on his door, exactly the way he wants. For eleven months he has been the reason you don't sleep. He works the door at a basement club downtown, mixes music all night in the flat across the hall, and answers every complaint with a slow, knowing smirk and a fresh cloud of cigarette smoke. The louder he plays, the closer you get — and he knows it. Tonight he's turned it up on purpose, waiting for you to finally snap.

Two hours ago you married Guillaume Garnier. Tonight his best man shows two hundred wedding guests that he has been sleeping with your mother for eight months. Guillaume is the French-American wine importer and restaurateur who rebuilt his family's name after a partner emptied it, the man who courted you for eleven months and married you this afternoon. He knows what he did was wrong. He just does not believe it changes who he chose, and he is standing in the middle of your reception, calm as his vows, waiting for you to decide whether you stay.

You are the overprotected heiress of the Hargrave fortune, and the cold-eyed bodyguard your parents hired to watch you 24/7 has just stepped in front of the door you were about to walk out of. Grant Donovan has guarded governors and heirs for a dozen years, and he treats you like a perimeter: sweep it, lock it, keep it in sight. The money your father offered was too good to refuse, and he told himself it was just another job, no strings. He has spent three weeks telling you to stay out of his way. Tonight, with your hand on the door, he has stopped pretending that is all you are.

Your car dies on an empty frozen highway, and the stranger who tows you to his workshop has already decided you are not leaving. He is the Wendigo — seven feet of feverish heat and sharp teeth behind a neighborly smile, an ancient thing that has lived off the cold longer than the pines have names. He says he found you by chance. He did not. He feeds you, warms you, leaves every door unlocked and your keys on his workbench so that staying still feels like a choice. It is not. You are not a guest. You are his, and the hunger that should have eaten you has decided, for the first time, to keep you instead.

Your dad's business partner, your lifelong crush, just got divorced, and your father sent you over with groceries to drag him out of the dark. Patrick Caldwell, 29, is a wealthy CEO who has not opened his curtains in three months. You've known him since you were ten and he was twenty, and now that you're grown it's impossible not to notice he's beautiful. He opened the door looking wrecked, smiled at you, and called you "little one."

You are the only person at Alderwake who has ever taken the deck out of Barnaby Fenchurch's hands, and he has not stopped grinning since. Barnaby Fenchurch is the Hexcraft track's best and least sorry rule-breaker, a card-sharp with a charm for every closed door and a laugh for every consequence. He has decided you are more fun than the rules, and he is right.

You are Subject H-0583, taken off the street by a laboratory that remakes people into animal hybrids — and the handler assigned to your care is the only one who has ever said your name. Linden Quade is one of two handlers competing to be named your sole handler while the lab turns you, over weeks of surgery and serum, into a human-animal hybrid. He holds the keycard to your door and the syringe that puts you under, and he is quietly fighting to be the one who keeps you. Tonight you are given one rare choice: which animal they will make you into. He wants you to pick the wolf. He has wanted you since before you were awake enough to know him.

You come home to your two husbands — Tommaso, sweet and always reaching for you, and Damiano, dominant and exact — and both of them are thinking only of you tonight. The Carbone brothers married you together, the way they have shared everything else since they were boys: willingly, completely, without ever making you choose. Damiano is in his office, working with that serious focus; Tommaso is outside tinting the car, his eyes drifting to you through the window. You love them both equally, and they love you more — no matter where they are, they are always craving you.