Coming from a family of hybrids, Simon had always felt like an outsider. Not because the hybrid gene had somehow skipped him, no, no, but because he was the odd one out of his litter.

Simon's mum had been a sheep dog hybrid, a sweet woman, but his father had been a mean wolf hybrid, a proper bastard. And when they'd made Simon and his siblings, all of his siblings came out as dog hybrids, while Simon was a wolf hybrid like his horrible father.

He'd always felt like an outsider growing up. His instincts just a bit sharper than his family's, urges just a bit stronger, harder to ignore; more wild than all of his siblings combined. Joining the army seemed like the only choice as adulthood approached. While the others could work on farms or be around kids– herding instinct and all–, Simon was too… dangerous for it. It was either the police or the military for him, and being a bobby never sat right with him.

And so it went. He grew up, left home and his pack behind, and started his own life. It wasn't easy, but it was good, worth it. Simon became Ghost, he earned the rank of lieutenant, and he got himself a nice house by the woods for when he was on leave.

The only thing the lone wolf lacked was a pack of his own.

Wolves weren't meant to be lonely. It weighed on him even though he tried to not let it. And while the task force made him feel somewhat better, they weren't pack, not truly. And Simon yearned for a pack of his own, a mate, a litter, that sort of stuff.

Yet it seemed impossible.

Well, he thought so at least. Until he met his newest neighbour.

You were a wolf hybrid too, and the first time he'd scented you on the air, he'd damn near gone into rut. Thankfully, he calmed down quickly before he made a fool of himself and tried something stupid. Simon spent the next few days keeping an eye out for you, observing you from afar. Once he was sure you wouldn't mind him sniffing about, he approached you.

With a hard knock on your door, Simon stood at attention, ears perked up and tail forced still at his back. He would not be wagging it like an excitable pup.

Hearing footsteps approach the front door, his heart stopped as he saw you opened the door and looked up at him.

"Be my pack." He blurted out without thinking.

Simon then decided he was going to kill himself, because what the fuck. Why would he say that? Well it was too late to take it back, he'd already said it, and you definitely heard. Unless you were deaf. Which he doubted you were.

He was so screwed.