Page 25 of The Pack

CHAPTER 25

Z ara

Several more mutant beasts surged into the square.

Logan’s pack lunged forward, their movements swift and deadly. My breath caught as I watched them, five massive wolves cutting through the broken city like lethal shadows, their eyes locking onto the remaining beasts with feral intensity.

Logan didn’t look back at me, his focus entirely on the fight as he shifted back into his dark-coated wolf form mid-lunge. His claws raked across a beast’s flank, tearing deep into its flesh as it roared in pain. The creature swung wildly, its jagged teeth snapping at Logan, but he darted away with a grace that was beautiful to watch.

Another wolf from his pack—a sleek, sand-colored one with a long scar down its side—shot in from the opposite direction, its jaws clamping onto the beast’s hind leg. They worked in perfect synchrony, driving the creature down until Logan’s teeth sank into its throat, ending its struggle in seconds.

Beside me, Magnus let out a low growl as he barreled into another beast. Tobias was at his side, his jaws snapping at anything that dared get too close.

Killian, still in human form, slashed at a beast with a wide grin, his blade catching the creature’s shoulder before he dodged a retaliatory swipe. “Not bad, huh?” he shouted, glancing at me with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Focus, Killian!” Magnus barked, his voice rough as he shifted mid-leap to drive a blade into the neck of a charging beast.

Callum was closest to me, his gray wolf form circling protectively as he snapped at another creature trying to flank us. His teeth sank into its leg, dragging it to the ground as Thorne leapt onto its back, his white wolf finishing the job with a vicious twist of his jaws.

Logan’s pack moved with the same deadly coordination.

A dark gray wolf with piercing green eyes streaked past Logan, its lithe form weaving between the creatures as it tore into one’s hind leg, crippling it. A massive black wolf—easily the largest of the group—lunged at another beast, its jaws closing over the creature’s skull with a sickening crunch.

The last few moments of the fight passed in a blur. Logan’s pack worked seamlessly with mine, their combined strength overwhelming the remaining creatures.

Logan shifted back to human form, his chest heaving as he drove a blade into the final beast. It let out a gurgling roar before collapsing, its enormous body hitting the ground with a thud.

Silence fell over the square, broken only by the heavy breathing of the two packs.

When it was finally over, I stood frozen, my heart racing as I scanned the carnage around us. The bodies of the mutated beasts lay scattered across the ground, their twisted forms still and lifeless.

Logan turned to me, his dark eyes meeting mine. He was covered in blood, his hair wild, but his expression melted as he took a step closer.

“Zara,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sheer relief.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. I stared at him, tears welling in my eyes as the reality of the moment hit me.

It was him. My brother. Alive .

“I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Logan’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he held out a bloodied hand.

“I’m here,” he said simply.

I reached for him, my hand shaking as I took his and he pulled me into a hug.

For the first time in a long time, I felt whole again.

We took a few minutes after the battle to simply sit and breathe, allowing the adrenaline to fade.

“Come on. Let’s get you somewhere safe,” Logan offered, gesturing for us to follow.

I nodded, pushing myself to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me.

“You’re Zara’s brother, I take it?” Tobias asked, his voice soft.

“Yes. Alive and in the flesh,” Logan smiled. “Come on. Follow me,” he added, gesturing for us to follow.

“Where are we going?” Magnus asked.

My brother turned, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he answered. “It’s not far. My pack has a place—a good safe place. You’ll see.”

Logan took the lead, and we followed him and his pack through the ruined streets. They moved with quiet confidence, all together as one. They didn’t speak, but their presence was enough to make me feel safer.

When the crumbling remnants of an old two-story pub came into view, my heart twisted. Its faded sign read The Lucky Clover , carved right into the brick and concrete facade. The once-welcoming facade was now dark and overgrown, but it was standing, its walls weathered and its roof mostly undamaged.

“This is it?” Killian asked, his fiery hair catching the faint light filtering through the haze.

Logan glanced back, his lips curving into a smirk. “It’s better inside than it looks outside.”

Inside, the pub was surprisingly well-preserved. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and old smoke, but it was warm, the faint glow of a fire crackling in the corner fireplace. Tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides, replaced by bedding made from scavenged blankets and furs. A few shelves were lined with cans of food and supplies, and a rusted keg stood propped in the corner.

“It’s not much,” Logan admitted as he led us inside, his voice tinged with pride despite his words. “But it’s safe enough.”

One by one, his pack shifted back into human form, their movements fluid and unhurried.

“This is Aidan,” Logan said, gesturing to a tall, broad-shouldered man with short-cropped dark hair and a faint Irish brogue. “He’s the second in command.”

Aidan gave a curt nod, his piercing green eyes scanning us before settling on Magnus. “Your pack fought well,” he said, his tone low and respectful.

“Thanks,” Magnus replied, his tone direct.

“That’s Jamie,” Logan continued, motioning to a wiry man with reddish-blond hair and a strong Scottish accent. “Fastest runner in the group.”

Jamie grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fast, aye, and I’m even better at getting in and out without being seen.”

“That’s Edward,” Logan said, nodding toward a dark-haired Englishman with an air of quiet intelligence. “He’s our strategist.”

Edward inclined his head, his charcoal gray eyes flicking toward Magnus and then me.

“And that’s Declan,” Logan finished, pointing to a muscular Irishman with a shaved head and a faint scar running down his jaw. “He’s the one you want beside you in a fight.”

Declan smirked, his voice low and rough. “And the one you don’t want to piss off.”

“Noted,” Killian replied, with his signature grin on proud display.