The Winchester pack was small as well, not as powerful as others. They owed quite a bit of their status to being connected to the Campbell pack (even if Samuel still didn't entirely like John).

What they had going for them most, though, was the fact that all three of John Winchester's sons were alphas.

Sam was on break from law school, having come home to see family. Of course, there was really only so long he could deal with his grandparents prodding him about grandchildren. And reminding him how much they'd liked Jess. So he'd ducked out, heading to the local bookshop to get a little time out and maybe find some new books. Or find Adam a good copy of Grey's Anatomy because the kid was going pre-med.

He'd ended up in the back of the store, a cup of coffee on the table beside him, flipping through a book he'd been looking for when he'd caught a whiff of something new. Something different. His mind supplied 'wolf', of course, but there was more to it than that. The scent brought to mind evenings by the fire, fingers wrapped around a mug of perfect hot chocolate, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon and his step-mother's kitchen.

Sam looked up, scanning the store. He'd heard the stories, of course, but he'd never lent that much credence to them. Not until now, at least.