Page 27 of Found by the Pack

Breathe, Sadie. You’re okay.

I swipe away. Shut the app.

I’m not back there. I’m not the girl still bleeding from love. I’m not his grieving widow with no pack and no place to go.

I’m the fucking phoenix.

My phone buzzes again. The vibration pulses like a warning shot. I flip it over.

My chest caves in.

Scott (2:16PM): Passed by your place. You weren’t there. Thought we agreed you’d keep us in the loop. Don’t make this a problem.

I stare at the text.

No. No. No.

Of all the Alphas in that godforsaken pack, he had to reach out?

Scott was always the roughest. The cruelest. Cold blue eyes and that constant sneer, like nothing I did was ever quite enough.

Max didn’t see it, not at first. Not until it was too late.

After Max died, Scott had used every loophole in the pack dynamic to make sure I knew I didn’t belong. Every. Single. Time. Unless he needed someone to fuck, then I was the perfect little Omega for them.

I feel the fear crawl up the back of my throat like a parasite.

He knows I’m gone. He came to the house.

That fucker came to the house.

I glance around the town square, irrationally expecting him to appear from the shadows like a goddamn horror movie villain.But there’s no one watching. No cars idling in threat. No black SUVs with tinted windows.

This isnotMemphis.

This is Driftwood Cove.

You are safe.

You are safe.

You are free.

I clutch the phone, my knuckles white, and flip to a fresh page in my sketchbook. My hand moves before I can stop it. Curved lines. Sharp edges. Fire.

A phoenix.

Wings outstretched. Flames licking at her spine.

This bird isn’t made of junkyard scraps and scrap metal like before. This one is all ash and renewal. Wild. Beautiful. Dangerous.

I draw harder, faster. The tip of my pencil breaks and I grab another without missing a beat.

This is the tattoo on my ribcage. The one I got when I turned eighteen. My first ink. Max came with me, held my hand, laughed at the way I cursed. “What hurts more,” he’d asked, “this or the knot?”

I’d shoved him and he’d kissed my hair and told me I was made for surviving things most people couldn’t even name.

I blink, hard.