text: The interior of the cabin was cozy but pleasant. The bed big, sturdy, the furniture sparse but solid handcrafted wood, and someone had obviously made an effort to make up for the limited natural light by decorating the one-bed/one-bath in pale, airy colors. The whites, pastel blues and accents of sage weren't Cooper's style per se, but he doubted anyone would get offended by them, and that was probably the point.
  
  Stretched out on the bed trying to ease the knots out of his spine, Cooper eyed Park seated at the desk across the room and wondered if it was his style. Or, alarming thought, what if Park genuinely liked those gaudy mansions and velvet fainting couches, or whatever such homes were filled with?
  
  Cooper opened his mouth, closed it. They were on a case, not a real getaway. If the biggest "emotional secret" waiting to be uncovered Vanessa had referred to was that Park was an aesthetic Liberace in waiting, they'd cross that golden bridge when they got to it.
  
  He turned his thoughts to the case. "What do you make of this missing logger?" he asked the ceiling.
  
  "A human fights with Kreuger and now they're both nowhere to be found? Unlikely to be a coincidence," Park said. "If they did have a second run-in, that's certainly one reason Kreuger would want to disappear."
  
  Cooper frowned. "You think Kreuger killed Llcaj and went on the run? Why not the other way around? Sounded to me like Llcaj attacked him first. He could have finished the job and pulled a vanishing act himself."
  
  Park hummed, flicking through his phone distractedly. "Or they're both victims of someone else. Kreuger thought he might be able to get a deal. He must have thought he had information on somebody the BSI would want. Or thought he could lie about it, anyway."
  
  Cooper considered that. Despite discovering a whole second possible victim, they weren't any further in what they did and didn't know.
  
  "Find anything interesting on that?" he asked, indicating Park's phone. Vanessa had reiterated that all guests were requested to meet at the lodge at four and that they were welcome to explore until then or just "have a lie down," which Cooper supposed meant sex. The only requirement was that they log onto the retreat site and complete "some initial consent forms, questionnaires, you know the deal."
  
  "No, nothing unexpected. Plus, we have to sign up for some trust-building activities. Looks like everyone on staff pitches in to teach at least one each. Too bad we can't split up and cover more ground that way."
  
  "Yeah, splitting up for the trust-building activities during couples' camp. Not sure even I can swing that one," Cooper said dryly. "So what are we talking about here? Three-legged race? Hot dog eating contest?"
  
  Park sounded amused. "This isn't fifth-grade sleepaway camp, Cooper. It's a werewolf couples' retreat."
  
  "Right. So, how to tantric sex and a get-to-know-ya orgy under the full moon?"
  
  Park was suspiciously quiet. Cooper rolled to his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. "Tell me that's not it."
  
  "Oh, yeah, no. No full moon needed," Park said distractedly, reading something on the screen with a frown. "Unrelated question, you packed your Venetian mask, right?"
  
  Cooper considered throwing a pillow at him, but was too comfortable to move.
  
  Park continued, "In all seriousness, though, you're going to have to take your AQ before we can sign up for any of these."
  
  "My what?" Cooper frowned. He'd heard that term somewhere before, but had to search his memory for it.
  
  "Your Alpha Quotient test," Park said simply, still flicking and tapping at the screen.
  
  Cooper scrambled upright. "What? I—but—what?"
  
  Park was biting down a smile. "They want everyone to take it, to get a sense of strengths, weaknesses, our interpersonal dynamic."
  
  "Yes, but... I'm not...a wolf," Cooper said blankly, head spinning.
  
  Park shook his head sadly, still tapping on the screen. "Ten minutes at counseling camp and the first dark secret has already emerged. Dr. Claymont did warn us."
  
  "No, but—can you look at me, please?"
  
  "Give me ten seconds," Park said. Cooper watched him tap at the screen and then put it down. "All right, I just finished mine."
  
  "You took yours already? Just now?" Cooper cried, dismayed. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have watched!"
  
  Park's eyebrow rose. "You mean cheat?"
  
  "Cheeeeat," Cooper hedged. "There's a lot of gray area around that, isn't there?"
  
  Park's right eyebrow jumped up to join the other. "I know what I want to talk about in our session tomorrow, anyway."
  
  Cooper shot Park a look and shifted on the bed, feeling jittery. "What did you get? Can I see the test? How many questions are there? How the hell did you just take it right here while we were talking? Is that still valid?"
  
  Park held up his hand and Cooper's mouth snapped shut. "It said we get our scores back during our session with the counselor tomorrow to discuss them. I've taken the AQ many, many times in my life. This one had some new stuff, but nothing I can't do while talking to you at the same time. Question types and number vary."
  
  "How personal are we talking here? Do I give a medical history? Favorite sex position?"
  
  Park gave him a sharp look. "It has nothing to do with how you like to fuck."
  
  Cooper waved him on impatiently. "Then give me some examples."
  
  Park sighed. "There's always a number of hypothetical situation questions." He smiled slightly. "For example, your mate says you should buy a place together, then comes up with excuses not to attend half of the house viewings and relentlessly scoffs at the other half. What would you do?"
  
  "Is the right answer guilt him about it when he's feeling vulnerable?" Cooper asked dryly. "Because, boy, no wonder you dominate this shit."
  
  "Then there's the questions where a sequence of events is described and you have to guess the motivation behind them. A man steals another man's notebook containing information about said houses, then hides it under the couch pillow rather than get caught reading it. Why? Then your basic rating questions, like, on a scale of one to ten, how strongly do you identify with the statement I am a sneaky little—"
  
  Cooper tsked. "How strongly do you identify with the statement suck my—"
  
  "Very strongly. Ten out of ten." He looked Cooper up and down and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward slightly. "Then sometimes you're briefly shown an image and have to recall three things about it. The three things you prioritize indicate something about what details stick out to you and are scored different ways. Name three things about the house we saw yesterday."
  
  Cooper rolled his eyes then frowned. "Wait, are you serious?"
  
  Park nodded.
  
  "I don't know, marble? And..." He scrambled for some detail that differentiated the house from the others, but all he could think of was Park and their real estate agent Josh standing outside. The nervous way Josh kept looking at Park. Inching closer, inching away. Imitating his stance. Part of it was the way most salespeople adopted their clients' mannerisms as part of the process of ingratiation. But it was more than that, too. A subconscious sort of fear? Admiration? Attraction? It didn't matter now. Those certainly weren't the three words Park was looking for him to list. Cooper had always been more tuned in to people and their emotional state than things or places. He was going to fail this goddamn test.
  
  Whatever Cooper's face was doing made Park sigh, a resigned sort of sound. "Never mind. I'm sorry for winding you up. That wasn't my intention."
  
  "I know," Cooper mumbled. He'd recognized Park was trying to joke him out of his nerves and he appreciated it. It wasn't Park's fault Cooper's nerves had been past the point of no return, arguably for thirty plus years.
  
  "Look, the idea is the answers should be instinctual. Your gut response." Park nodded at Cooper's own phone on the bedside table. "Don't think. Just take it."
  
  "Right. Don't think. You know me, no problem."
  
  Cooper logged in and quickly found the test. He tried to read the introductory paragraph, explaining the test as a highly refined personality inventory, as carefully as possible. But the words pulsated in front of his eyes and he found himself continuously having to jerk back into his body when his attention was elsewhere. It wasn't that his mind wandered, it just sort of...powered down. And he kept having to double back, unsure of the last line he'd read before blinking out.
  
  "Hey," Park murmured. He was sitting on the bed right beside him, and Cooper couldn't quite remember him moving across the room.
  
  "Shhh, I'm trying to concentrate." True, but also ridiculous, 'cause right now all he was doing was picking out random keywords in the paragraph because it seemed easier and less time-consuming than working through the sentences in order.
  
  Park's hand slid onto Cooper's thigh which only then did he realize had been shaking up and down, moving the bed. "What's wrong? Why is this making you so nervous?"
  
  "Just don't like surprise tests," Cooper muttered. "Stupid."
  
  Park continued to stroke Cooper's thigh, and though it didn't eliminate the jitteriness he felt, it was a nice, soothing feeling laid over top. "It's not a test you can fail, you know. It's like any other personality quiz. Am I an introvert or an extrovert? Do I fuck like a bear or a bird? What kind of prisoner am I, the Count of Monte Cristo or Mrs. Rochester?"
  
  Cooper gave him a look. "I worry about what you spend your free time on."
  
  Park kissed his shoulder. "Eighteen or eighty, whatever you get, doesn't matter to me."
  
  "Great. Now I'm terrified of getting below an eighteen," Cooper said, and felt Park smile against his shirt. "What do you usually get? A thousand, I suppose."
  
  "Most alpha-types fall between sixty-five and eighty. The test is zero to a hundred and you can't get a one-hundred—like you can't reach infinity, you can just approach it."
  
  Cooper groaned. "Writing and math?" He stared at the screen, finger hovering over the start button. "Is it multiple choice or are there like essay questions?"
  
  "Cooper!" Park laughed and flopped backward onto the bed. "The more information I give you, the less accurate it will be, so will you just get it over with already?"
  
  Cooper eyed him suspiciously. "You're curious what I get, aren't you?"
  
  Park closed his eyes. "Don't be silly," he said archly. "AQs are almost as antiquated and problematic as IQ tests. If I was a little curious it would merely be the lingering remains of a lifetime's worth of indoctrination into an outdated, toxic value system that means nothing in contemporary society and even less to my own personal relationship."
  
  "So yes, definitely curious," Cooper said.
  
  He knew, despite Park's dismissal of the test, deep down he was expecting Cooper to get a high AQ. He'd told him so, months ago in Cape Breton. It's unexpectedly soothing to follow your lead.
  
  But if he was wrong...if he'd mistaken the brashness Cooper had developed to conceal his own anxieties and near constant feelings of incompetence and confusion for a leadership quality... Then what? Where did that leave them?
  
  Park poked him in the ass.
  
  "Hey, what the fuck!"
  
  "Sorry. Just demonstrating how to use a touch screen. You seemed to have forgotten."
  
  Cooper pointedly shuffled backward until he was sitting on Park's hand, trapping it to the mattress. "Stay. And don't distract me."
  
  He took a deep breath and, with a determination that was just as impulsive and undeserved as his previous flailing, started the test and tried not to think how the results could change the dynamics of a partnership he could no longer imagine existing without.