The pack hadn’t even made it out of the hotel lobby before chaos struck.
Thane was the first one downstairs, black polo shirt wrinkle-free, carry-on slung over one shoulder, and the expression of a wolf who really needed a gallon of coffee and a quiet terminal gate. He paused in the archway as a now-familiar chorus of gasps, shrieks, and camera flashes exploded from the cluster of fans that had somehow increased overnight in the hotel foyer.
“Are you kidding me?” he muttered.
Behind him, the elevator dinged and opened to reveal the rest of the pack — bleary-eyed, half-dressed, some still chewing the hotel’s free breakfast rolls. Gabriel stepped out looking like he hadn’t slept at all and grinned wide like he was the Grand Marshal of a chaos parade.
“Oh good, they waited for us,” he said cheerfully.
Cassie blinked into the crowd. “Is that guy holding a homemade Gabriel plushie?”
“Yes,” Maya deadpanned. “And it’s disturbingly well-made.”
“Okay, eyes up, bags tight,” Thane growled. “We’re not missing this flight because someone wants you to sign their thigh.”
“But what if it’s a really nice thigh?” Rico grinned.
Mark groaned. “I need two coffees before you talk like that.”
Security had been warned, but they were vastly unprepared. By the time the pack made it into the shuttle van, four security guards had been steamrolled by a group of teenage superfans trying to get a selfie with Jonah (he posed mid-struggle), and one elderly tourist had mistaken Gabriel for an avant-garde Disney mascot and asked if he’d be at the parade later.
The drive to the airport was no better.
Every time the bus slowed for a light, fans on scooters and bikes zipped up alongside, waving signs and phones. Thane gripped his seat like it was a lifeline. Gabriel waved out the window like a lunatic.
“We’re gonna miss our gate,” Thane muttered.
“No, we’re gonna make memories,” Gabriel replied, tossing one last cookie out the window to a girl in a Feral Eclipse hoodie who burst into tears.
At the airport entrance, the chaos reached a fever pitch.
Dozens more fans. Drones overhead. One guy in a werewolf fursuit doing cartwheels near the departures sign. Security tried to create a human chain to get the band through the front doors, but Gabriel somehow ended up crowd-surfing over a group of screaming college students before Thane grabbed him by the tail and yanked him back to Earth.
Inside, things didn’t calm down so much as rearrange into a different flavor of madness. Check-in was interrupted by autograph requests. Bag drop became a photo session. Customs flagged Jonah’s drumsticks. Emily got mistaken for a pop star. And Mark nearly growled at a child trying to yank a tuft of his fur as a “souvenir.”
By the time they made it to the terminal, it looked like a crime scene in a merch store.
Every member of the pack was surrounded by exhausted airport staff, wide-eyed onlookers, and at least two travelers trying to sell their boarding passes just to stick around.
Thane finally corralled them all near the gate, pressed both paws to his temples, and muttered, “Europe was amazing. But if anyone speaks to me before we’re at cruising altitude, I’m jumping out the window.”
Gabriel beamed and patted him on the back. “Love you too, Alpha.”
Somehow, through sheer force of will and airline pity, they all made it onto the plane.
Destination: Oklahoma City.
And Lord help the Will Rogers Airport when this pack landed back home.