Page 21 of The Pack

CHAPTER 21

Z ara

The fire crackled softly, sending faint sparks into the cool night air. The pack had set up camp in a clearing just off the trail. I couldn’t see the nuclear zone in the darkness, but I knew it was there, the only thing left between me and my brother, and I couldn’t get it out of my head.

No one had said much since we stopped.

Magnus kept glancing at me with that same calm, assessing expression, his knowing gaze understanding too much. Callum, who always seemed to have a kind word or a story ready, had been quieter than usual, his easy smiles subdued. Even Killian, who rarely let anything dampen his mischief, had limited his jabs to a single half-hearted quip about the rabbits we’d eaten for dinner.

I knew what they were doing. They were trying to give me space.

But space wasn’t what I wanted—or needed. I wanted them to understand, to truly understand why this mattered so much to me.

It was my brother, the only family I had left.

When Callum sat beside me after dinner, his face concerned, I barely looked at him.

“You doing okay?” he asked gently, his voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear.

“I’m fine,” I said, my tone clipped.

“You don’t seem fine,” he pressed softly, but insistently.

I turned my gaze to the fire, the flames blurring as I blinked hard.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped.

“Zara—”

“I said I’m fine,” I retorted, my voice sharper than I intended.

Callum’s shoulders sagged slightly, but he didn’t push.

“Okay,” he said after a long pause. “I’m here if you need me.”

“I’m going to sleep,” I said abruptly, pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders.

Callum looked like he wanted to say something, but Magnus gave a subtle shake of his head, stopping him.

I didn’t wait for their goodnights or reassurances. I slipped away to the edge of the clearing, settling down beneath a thick tree. The night was colder here, the ground harder, but it didn’t matter.

I had a plan.

The pack didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

To them, the nuclear zone was a death trap, a place where survival was a gamble at best, but to me, it was the only path forward. My brother was on the other side, in Dublin. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name.

I couldn’t wait around while they argued about risks and strategy, and I couldn’t wait the whole week it would take to go all the way around it.

Our time together had come to an end.

The rough fabric of the cloak brushed against my cheek as I curled into myself. The firelight flickered faintly in the distance, the soft murmur of the pack’s voices just out of reach.

They meant well. I knew that. I knew they understood what loss meant, Thorne lost his son after all, but they didn’t understand what it was like to be given the smallest glimmer of hope—only to have it threatened by hesitation.

I’d leave before dawn.

They’d be asleep, and I’d be gone, sneaking off into the nuclear zone before they had a chance to stop me.

The forest was eerily quiet as I slipped away from camp, the pack’s soft snores fading behind me.

I’d waited until the fire burned down to embers, until I was sure their watch had relaxed. Callum had been the last to settle, his head nodding slightly before he leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes. Magnus, Thorne, Tobias, Killian—all of them were still, resting, and completely unaware.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. I did. But they’d made it clear they had no intention of going through the nuclear zone, and every second wasted arguing with them was a second my brother didn’t have.

I had to do this alone.

The first few hours were uneventful as I moved into the zone. The ground beneath my boots was uneven, the moss-covered rocks slick with dew. Patches of grass shimmered faintly, the colors too bright, too wrong, as if the plants themselves were sick, but it wasn’t as bad as the pack had made it seem.

I kept my pace steady, my heart pounding with both fear and determination. My knife was strapped to my side, my hand brushing the hilt every so often as a reminder that I wasn’t entirely defenseless.

You’re fine , I told myself. They were exaggerating.

I walked for hours, enough to where the dawn started to brighten the night sky. Then something off in the distance caught my eye.

At first, I thought it was a shadow, some trick of the light filtering through the haze, but as I moved closer, the shadow grew.

Holy fuck . It was a bear.

Not just any bear—it was a monstrous thing. Its fur was matted and patchy, the exposed skin beneath riddled with bony protrusions that jutted out at odd angles. It moved slowly, like it was looking for something, its head swinging back and forth as if sniffing the air.

My breath caught, and I froze, my body instinctively pressing against the trunk of a tree.

It didn’t see me, or maybe it didn’t care.

The bear let out a low, rumbling growl, the sound vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. I watched, heart hammering, as it lumbered off into the mist, its massive form disappearing like a shadow fading into the distance.

I exhaled shakily, my hand gripping the hilt of my knife.

“It’s just a bear,” I whispered to myself, though the words felt hollow.

I kept moving, my pace slower now. The silence pressed in around me, broken only by the occasional crack of a branch or the distant rustle of leaves.

Then I saw something else.

It was quick—so quick I almost missed it.

A fox darted through the haze, its elongated body moving with unnatural grace. Its legs were too long, its head too narrow, and its fur shimmered faintly in the strangest way.

In its jaws, it carried something equally oversized—a rabbit, but not the kind I was used to. This one had legs that were too thick, its body strangely misshapen, its eyes large and glassy as they stared blankly into the distance.

The fox stopped for a moment, its glowing eyes darting toward me as it dropped the rabbit.

My breath hitched, and I took a step back.

The fox tilted its head, its movements jerky and unnatural, before it grabbed its prey and darted into the mist.

I stood frozen for a moment, my chest heaving as I tried to process what I’d just seen.

Maybe Thorne wasn’t being superstitious after all, and I was starting to think I wasn’t ready for what that meant.

Left with no other choices, I ventured deeper into the nuclear zone. At this point, the ground beneath me was uneven and treacherous, a mix of cracked pavement, some weird glasslike fusion of rock, jagged stones, and patches of oily grass.

The ruins grew denser, the skeletal remains of houses and buildings scattered all across the devastated landscape. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of distant rustling or the low groan of wind filtering through the hollowed-out remains of what used to be someone’s home.

I kept my knife close, my grip tightening on the worn hilt every time a shadow shifted in the corner of my vision.

Suddenly I saw what I could only describe as my worst nightmare just feet away from me.

It was a man, but I meant that in the loosest sense of the term, and he was massive .

His body was grotesquely muscular, his skin pale and mottled with scars and strange, dark patches. He wore the tattered remnants of what might have once been clothes, but they hung in shreds around his bulging frame. His head was bald, his features twisted and asymmetrical, with a jaw that jutted out unnaturally and eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light.

He grunted as he rifled through some wreckage, his massive hands tossing aside pieces of rusted metal like they weighed nothing at all.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

It wasn’t just his size or his appearance that sent a shiver racing down my spine—it was the way he moved. Controlled. Too human to be an animal, but too warped to be entirely human.

He wasn’t like the creatures I’d seen so far; this was something else.

And then he turned, his glowing eyes locking onto me.

“Fresh meat,” he rasped, his voice deep and guttural, but unmistakably English.

He was talking about me!

My heart stopped, and for a moment, I couldn’t move.

Then he lunged.

I barely had time to react, my instincts taking over as I darted to the side. His massive hand slammed into the ground where I’d been standing, the force of it sending a tremor through the earth.

I scrambled backward, my knife in hand, as he straightened to his full height.

“You run?” he growled, his lips pulling back into a grotesque grin. “No one runs from Mogg.”

Mogg. He had a name ?

Now I had no doubt he was intelligent. This was bad.

He came at me again, fast for someone his size. I slashed at him with my knife, the blade catching his forearm and leaving a shallow cut, but it wasn’t nearly enough to take him down.

He roared, the sound shaking the air around us, but it didn’t slow him down. His enormous hand swiped at me, and this time, he caught my arm.

I cried out as he yanked me forward, his grip like iron. I twisted, driving the knife into his side, but it barely seemed to faze him.

“You fight good,” he grunted, his grin widening. “Mogg like fight.”

I kicked at his legs, my boot connecting with his shin, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me closer, his huge frame towering over me as he ripped the knife from my hand and tossed it aside.

“No more fight,” he growled.

Before I could react, he hoisted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. My feet kicked helplessly as he carried me deeper into the woods, the haze swallowing us whole.

“Mogg find you,” he said, his voice almost gleeful.

I struggled, my fists pounding against his chest, but it was like trying to punch through a brick wall. His strength was monstrous, and every attempt to free myself only seemed to amuse him.

Finally, he stopped in a small clearing, his glowing eyes scanning the trees. He moved quickly, grabbing ropes from a bag slung over his shoulder and tying them around my wrists.

“Mogg make you stay,” he grunted, his hands working with surprising precision as he secured the ropes to two nearby trees.

I screamed and thrashed, but it was no use. He stretched my arms wide apart, pulling the ropes taut until I was on the tips of my toes, my body straining against the bindings.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his work. “Now you don’t run.”

Mogg lumbered around the clearing with unsettling ease for someone his size, his glowing eyes darting between me and the pile of debris he’d gathered. My heart pounded as he crouched down and struck a piece of flint against a rusted metal plate, the sparks catching on the dry kindling he’d arranged.

“Mogg make fire,” he grunted, his voice rough, but almost singsong. “Fire make meat taste good. Fight taste better.”

A cold chill ran down my spine as his words sank in. He wasn’t just going to kill me—he was going to eat me .

I thrashed against the ropes holding me, my arms burning as I pulled with everything I had. But the bindings didn’t give. The coarse rope bit into my wrists, the rough fibers scraping against my skin as I struggled.

“You not get free,” Mogg said, glancing over his shoulder at me. His grotesque grin stretched across his twisted face. “Mogg tie good. You stay.”

“Let me go!” I shouted, my voice shaking with both fear and rage.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling as he turned back to the fire. “No let go,” he said simply. “You good meat. Meat that fight taste best.”

I pulled harder, my muscles straining as I twisted my wrists, desperate for even the smallest bit of slack. But the ropes were tight, expertly knotted, and every pull only made them dig deeper into my skin.

“Mogg like when meat fight,” he said, as he added a larger branch to the growing fire. The flames crackled and leapt higher, casting an eerie glow on his massive frame.

“Fight make blood hot. Make taste better.”

“You’re insane,” I spat, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his hulking shoulders rising and falling. “Mogg not care. Mogg live. You not.”

His words hit me like a fist to the gut, and I bit back a panicked cry, my mind racing. I couldn’t give up, couldn’t let him win.

The fire roared to life, its heat licking at my skin even from several feet away. Mogg leaned closer to it, his giant hands holding a jagged metal skewer as he tested its weight.

Mogg’s uneven grin widened, his glowing eyes narrowed, the firelight causing grotesque shadows to dance across his face.

“Things in Dublin,” he rasped, his voice low and guttural, “do more bad to you than what Mogg do. You beg for what Mogg plans.”

What the fuck did that even mean?

He stood, the fire casting his shadow across the clearing as he took one step and then another toward me, the skewer glinting in his hand.

“Noooo!” I screeched.

I felt true terror claw its way up my throat.

The world seemed to slow as he raised the skewer. I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

Then, a snarl.

Low and guttural, it sliced through the night like a blade, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy crashing through the underbrush.

My eyes snapped open just in time to see a massive blur of silver fur launch itself at Mogg, slamming into him with bone-crushing force.

Magnus .

His wolf form was sleek and powerful, his silver coat gleaming in the firelight as he sank his teeth into Mogg’s arm. The mutated giant let out a throaty roar, swinging wildly as he tried to shake Magnus off.

From the shadows, another wolf emerged. It was a deep black shape that moved like liquid shadow. Tobias darted in low, his jaws snapping at Mogg’s legs, forcing him to stagger back.

“Mogg not alone?” he growled, his voice breaking into a guttural roar of frustration.

“Neither is she,” Magnus snarled, shifting in midair as he leapt away from Mogg. By the time he hit the ground, he was in human form, a blade flashing in his hand as he lunged forward.

The clearing became a scene of chaos.

Callum, still in human form, rushed in from the side, throwing a dagger that sliced through the air and embedded itself in Mogg’s shoulder. The giant roared, swiping at Callum with one massive hand, but before the blow could land, Killian appeared, his red wolf form leaping onto Mogg’s back.

Killian shifted mid-lunge, his human hands grabbing hold of the back of Mogg’s head and yanking it downward, exposing the thick column of his neck.

“Get him now!” Killian shouted.

Magnus didn’t hesitate. He shifted in an instant, his silver wolf form barreling forward. Tobias mirrored him, the two wolves moving in perfect synchronization as they leapt toward Mogg’s exposed throat.

Mogg let out a grating roar, his hands clawing at the air as he tried to shake off Killian’s grip. It was too late.

Magnus struck first, his powerful jaws clamping down on Mogg’s neck with a sickening crunch. Tobias followed an instant later, his teeth tearing into the other side of Mogg’s throat. Blood sprayed everywhere as the two wolves wrenched their heads back, ripping out the thick column of muscle and veins.

Mogg’s roar turned into a gurgling cry as one arm clutched at his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood, and the other flailed outward to get Killian off his back. Killian released his hold and rolled clear of Mogg’s swinging fists, his red hair streaked with dark-colored blood as he grinned grimly.

“Finish it!” Killian shouted, scrambling to his feet.

Thorne moved in next, his pale wolf form darting forward with ruthless precision. He didn’t hesitate, his sharp teeth sinking into Mogg’s right side, ripping through flesh and muscle and into his liver with a savage twist of his head.

Callum followed, his gray wolf form a blur as he lunged at Mogg’s legs. He bit down hard, his teeth snapping bone and tendon with a sickening snap and crack.

The mutated giant let out one final, earth-shaking roar before crumpling to the ground, his massive body shaking the earth beneath him.

The clearing fell silent. I stared at Mogg’s body for a long moment before I realized that all five men were watching me, the looks on their faces dark and full of a promise I couldn’t even begin to understand.

But I had a very bad feeling about it.

They moved slowly toward me, their expressions firm, their eyes locked onto me.

For the first time in days, I felt small again. Vulnerable.

Magnus was at the front, his expression unreadable, but filled with an intensity that made my chest tighten. Tobias walked beside him, his dark eyes unrelenting. Callum followed, his usual warmth replaced by a seriousness that was strange to see on his face. Killian’s red hair caught the light, but his usual grin was nowhere to be seen, his expression tight. Thorne’s icy blue eyes glinted in the dim light, his jaw set in a firm line.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as they stopped a few feet from where I was still tied. I shifted backwards, unable to help but notice how naked they were.

And how hard every single one of their cocks were right now.

“Zara,” Magnus said ominously. “What a surprise it was to wake up this morning and find you gone.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came.

Callum tilted his head slightly, his gray eyes narrowing. “You were planning to go to Dublin all by yourself, weren’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t lie,” Tobias cut in, his tone firm.

My cheeks burned, and I looked away, the fire’s warmth nothing compared to the heat crawling up my neck.

Killian let out a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “You didn’t even think to leave a note, did you? Just straight to the suicide mission then?”

“Do you understand now how dangerous this place is? Do you see now what could happen to you here, to all of us?” Magnus asked, his voice dense with contained fury. He stepped closer, his silver eyes locking onto mine.

I shifted in the ropes, the weight of their stares pressing down on me and I gulped back a nervous sense of anticipation. Something was about to happen, and I had the sneaking suspicion that they might punish me for sneaking off without them, but I was sincerely hoping that I was wrong about that.

“I didn’t have a choice. You weren’t going—” I said finally, my voice trembling.

“You always have a choice,” Thorne said flatly, cutting me off.

Magnus let out a slow breath, his jaw flexing. “We came to a decision yesterday,” he said. “While you were busy planning to leave us behind, we had already decided to go through the nuclear zone with you.”

His words hit me hard. I froze, my eyes snapping to his. “You… you were going to go after all?”

Callum nodded, his expression softening slightly. “We were. For you.”

“Because you’re one of us now,” Tobias said, his voice low, but firm. “But then you decided to run off on your own.”

My throat tightened, and I glanced between them, their expressions unyielding.

“What’s about to happen?” I asked hesitantly, my voice barely audible.

Tobias stepped forward, his dark eyes piercing. “What’s about to happen, Zara,” he said, his tone calm, but edged with authority, “is that you’re going to be punished.”

I inhaled sharply, my heart pounding as I stared up at him. “Punished?” I squeaked.

Killian crouched beside me, his grin wicked now. “You’ve earned this one, lass. Don’t fight it.”

I pulled against the ropes instinctively, my wrists burning as I struggled.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, my voice rising. “You can’t just?—”

“We can,” Tobias interrupted, his voice like steel. “And we will. You’re our mate and that’s something we don’t take lightly.”

My heart raced, the tension in the air thick and suffocating as they surrounded me.

Tobias stepped closer, his tall frame looming over me, his dark eyes fixed on mine. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he reached out, his hand sliding up my arm, his fingers firm but surprisingly gentle as they made their way to my wrist, stretched above my head, where the ropes bit into my skin.

“You could’ve been killed,” he said finally, his voice low and tense. “If we’d been a minute later, you would have been dead.”

“I—” My voice caught in my throat as his gaze met mine, the intensity of his eyes pinning me in place. I didn’t have any real defense, so the words died in the back of my throat.

“You could’ve died, Zara,” he said, his tone sharper now. “And for what? To play hero on your own?”

“I wasn’t?—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his hand moving to my waist. His fingers pressed lightly against my hip, steadying me as I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I get it. You were desperate. You thought you could handle it, but you don’t know what’s out here.”

“I know more than you think,” I said, my voice trembling despite my defiance.

“Do you?” His dark eyes narrowed, his fingers brushing along my side as though testing my resolve. “Because what I saw—what we all saw—is that you had no idea what you were walking into.”

My cheeks flushed, and I looked away, unable to hold his knowing look any longer.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His hand stilled, resting against the curve of my waist. “I believe you,” he said softly, his voice dropping. “But sorry isn’t enough. Not this time.”

My heart sank, my throat tightening as his words settled over me.

“I woke up this morning,” he continued, his voice quieter now, “and you were gone. No warning. No goodbye. Just… gone.” His fingers trailed up my side, his touch firmer as he leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “Do you know what that felt like, Zara?”

I swallowed hard, my body trembling under his touch. “No,” I whispered.

“It felt like losing someone again, someone I care about very much,” he said, his voice raw. “And then, when we found you, tied up and about to be eaten by that… thing…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“Tobias,” I said, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“I know,” he said, his tone soft, but unyielding. “But that doesn’t change what happened, or what could’ve happened.”

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine.

“You scared me, Zara. You scared all of us,” he said firmly. “We’re your pack now, and you don’t get to put yourself at risk like that without consequences.”

“What does that mean?” I asked hesitantly, my breath catching in my throat.

“It means,” Tobias said, his hands still resting firmly on my sides, “that you’re going to be one very sorry and very sore little mate by the time we’re through with you.”