Page 6 of The Pack

CHAPTER 6

Z ara

The world around me was dark, the kind of heavy blackness that pressed against my skin, making it hard to breathe. Slowly, light began to seep in, faint and golden, like the sun filtering through a dirty window. Shapes formed—a forest, trees stretching tall and gnarled, their bare branches clawing at the sky.

I was running. My feet hit the ground in frantic, uneven steps, the crunch of leaves loud in my ears. Shadows darted in the corners of my vision, but I didn’t dare look back. I wasn’t running from something—I was running toward someone.

“Zara.”

The voice stopped me cold. It was familiar, achingly so, and when I turned, the forest seemed to fall away.

He was there.

My brother.

The face I remembered, the one that had my eyes, was my brother.

His face hovered in the dim light, stark against the dark backdrop of the dream. His dark eyes, so much like my own, were fixed on me. They were wide with fear, but his jaw was set, his mouth a determined line. Dirt streaked his cheek, and I noticed the cut across his brow, a thin line of dried blood marring his pale skin.

“Zara,” he said again, his voice lower now, almost pleading.

I tried to step forward, but the air felt thick, heavy, like wading through water.

“I’m here,” I said, though my voice sounded distant, as if it didn’t belong to me.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” he whispered, his words trembling at the edges. “Don’t let them take me.”

His hand reached out to me, and I lunged for it, my fingers stretching, desperate to close the gap. But as soon as I touched him, the dream shifted violently, the forest spinning into chaos.

I was falling now, spiraling through darkness, his face flickering like a candle flame in the wind. I could see his lips moving, forming my name again and again, but his voice was drowned out by the roaring in my ears.

And then, just as suddenly, I was back in the woods, the silence deafening.

He was gone.

All that remained was the memory of his face, etched into my mind like a scar. The cut on his brow. The determination in his eyes. The way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing standing between him and oblivion.

I woke with a start, my chest heaving, my skin damp with sweat. I tried to catch my breath, the dream already slipping away from me like grains of sand through my fingers.

Now there was one thing I did remember: I had a brother.

I found myself lying on a soft mattress. Well, soft was generous—it was more like a sagging rectangle of fabric stuffed with something lumpy—but after everything I’d been through, it felt like heaven.

The faint scent of old wood and damp earth filled the air, and I blinked up at the ceiling, my head still heavy with sleep. The beams above me were warped and splintered, but they looked sturdy enough to hold up against almost anything. Morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in the walls, illuminating little speckles of dust that danced in the air before me.

I sat up slowly, wincing slightly as my body protested any form of movement. My muscles ached in places I didn’t even know I had, and my thighs burned with a deep soreness that made my cheeks flush. I reached between my legs to find the remnants of the pack’s seed dried on my skin and my blush deepened.

The memories came rushing back in a flood of heat and shame: the wolves— no, the men —and what had happened between us. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to push the images away.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the present moment. The scents grounded me, reminding me that I was still alive, that I had survived, that in a sense, a part of me was still thriving.

As I slowly gathered my thoughts, I realized that I needed to move, to find out where I was and what had happened since last night.

With some effort, I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, feeling the coolness of the stone floor beneath my feet. I glanced around the room, noting the rustic surroundings. It was clear that this place had seen better days, but it was a shelter, and for now, that was enough.

I looked down and realized someone had draped a blanket over me. I wasn’t wearing anything but my bare skin beneath the coarse woolen fabric, though.

On the floor near the bed, I spotted a pile of folded clothes: a pair of khakis, socks, and a simple long-sleeve T-shirt, as well as a pair of boots. My heart jumped a little at the sight of them—finally, something normal.

The clothes fit well enough, though there was no sign of underwear. Their absence made my cheeks burn again as I shifted uncomfortably, hyper-aware of the fabric against my bare skin.

Once I was dressed, I looked around the room. It was stark and utilitarian—a narrow bed pushed against one wall, a rickety chair by a small wooden table that looked like it might collapse if I breathed on it too hard. The stone walls were rough and cold, their surface marred by deep grooves where time had worn them away. A thin slit of a window let in a shard of morning light.

The door creaked when I pushed it open, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet. I stepped into a narrow hallway, the stones beneath my feet uneven and worn smooth in places. The air smelled faintly of damp earth, and a chill seeped into my skin as I moved forward. The ceiling arched high above me, the beams heavy and darkened with age.

The place was old. Cracks webbed through the stone, and in places, mortar crumbled away. Still, someone had taken the time to reinforce parts of it. Wooden planks covered the larger gaps in the walls, and makeshift repairs held the structure together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was solid enough to serve as a shelter.

I followed the hallway, the faint scent of mildew mingling with something fresher—the smell of the sea. The space opened up into a larger room with a high ceiling and a massive fireplace carved into one wall. The remnants of carvings adorned the stones, worn to the point where I could barely make out the shapes of shields and beasts.

A heavy wooden door stood ajar, light spilling through the gap. I stepped outside and was met with the crisp morning air. The sky was bright, and the scent of salt filled my lungs.

The castle—or what was left of it—was perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sea. The structure itself sprawled in all directions, its towers half-collapsed and its walls jagged with age. Moss crept up the stones, and ivy coiled like veins across the ruins. The building I’d come from seemed to be the most intact, but smaller structures surrounded it, their roofs caved in or missing entirely.

The clearing around the castle was bordered by dense woods, the trees standing like sentinels against the horizon. It was a strange mix of wild and ancient, as though the land itself had conspired to preserve the ruins somehow and make them a part of it.

The sound of voices drew my attention. Beyond one of the smaller towers, a campfire crackled, and I spotted the five men sitting around it.

They were shirtless, their bare chests glistening in the morning light, and each wore nothing more than a pair of pants. It was hard not to stare—really hard—but I forced myself to look into the fire instead. I felt my cheeks flush and I hoped they wouldn’t see.

They hadn’t noticed me yet, too caught up in their conversation.

“Did you see the way she looked at me before she ran?” Killian said, his Irish lilt dripping with amusement. “Like I was some kind of beast about to eat her whole.”

“Can you blame her?” Callum said, his mouth lifting with a grin. “You are a beast. And I mean that literally.”

“Watch it, pup,” Killian shot back, though there was no real bite in his voice.

“Enough,” Magnus said, his tone calm but commanding. “She just needs time to adjust.”

Thorne poked at the fire with a stick. “Time won’t change the fact that she doesn’t trust us.”

“Why would she?” Tobias asked, leaning back against a rock. His brooding gaze fixed on the flames, his expression unreadable. “We’re not exactly her knights in shining armor.”

“Well, maybe not shining ,” Callum smiled. “But we did save her life. That’s got to count for something.”

I cleared my throat, and five pairs of eyes turned to me all at once.

The weight of their stares was enough to make my cheeks flush again, but I stood my ground, refusing to let them see the way my heart raced and my core clenched tight with desire at the sight of them.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Killian broke the silence with a slow, wolfish grin. “Good morning, lass. Sleep well?”

Killian’s grin widened as I hesitated at the edge of the clearing, the firelight dancing in his golden-brown eyes. His fiery red hair was a mess, sticking up in wild tufts like he’d just rolled out of bed—or shifted back from wolf form, more likely. His lean, wiry build was at odds with the powerful energy he exuded, like a predator ready to pounce.

“Well?” he said, cocking his head. “You just gonna stand there, or are you joinin’ us?”

The others didn’t speak, but their gazes stayed locked on me. Magnus’s eyes were unreadable, calm and steady as always. Tobias leaned against a rock with his arms crossed, his brooding presence as dark and imposing as the storm clouds gathering in the distance. Callum’s kind gray eyes held something softer—concern, maybe? And then there was Thorne, his pale blue eyes cold and calculating, his body as still as a statue.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn and run.

What’s the point? You’ve already seen the worst of them.

And as much as I hated to admit it, my best chance of survival lay with them.

Slowly, I walked over and lowered myself onto a flat stone near the fire. The heat warmed my hands as I rubbed them together, trying to find some sense of normalcy in the situation.

No one spoke at first. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Who exactly are you all?” I asked, looking up at them. My voice came out stronger than I’d expected, but my pulse still raced in my ears. “What’s your deal?”

Magnus exchanged a glance with Tobias, who shrugged slightly before Magnus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“We’re a pack,” Magnus said simply.

“That much I figured,” I said, trying to ignore the way his knowing silver eyes seemed to pierce through me. “But you don’t exactly seem like you grew up together.”

That earned a low chuckle from Killian. “Not quite, lass. Though we’ve been through enough shite together that it feels like it.”

“Let me guess,” I said, folding my arms. “You all just happened to meet while running from the ferals and decided to team up?”

“Not exactly,” Callum said, his voice softer than the others. “It wasn’t that simple.”

Magnus nodded, his dark hair catching the firelight. “Callum and Tobias are brothers. They used to live in the Irish countryside, but their lives fell apart after the Collapse, and they found themselves a little lost. Killian found them first.”

“Wait. How old are you all?” I asked, and my gaze darted between them. They all appeared to be in their mid-thirties, but that couldn’t be right, not if they were alive during the time of the Collapse.

Magnus gave me a faint smile, his expression softening slightly. “We’re older than we look,” he said, his tone laced with something that felt almost like amusement.

Callum chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “A little older,” he added, his gray eyes twinkling with a mix of warmth and mischief.

“How old?” I pressed, looking between them.

Killian leaned back, his fiery hair catching the light. “Two hundred and some change, lass,” he said casually, like he was telling me the weather forecast.

My jaw dropped. “Two hundred?” I repeated, staring at them like they’d grown extra heads. “How is that even possible?”

Thorne, ever stoic, folded his arms over his chest and gave a faint nod. “The shifter virus slows aging, at least some of the early variants do. We stopped counting after a while.”

Tobias glanced at me, his dark eyes calm. “We’ve seen more than most. Lived through the Collapse and everything that came after.”

I knew enough about that the Collapse to know that it wasn’t just a single event two hundred years ago—it was a slow unraveling of everything humanity had built. The virus hit first, spreading like wildfire and turning people into wolves—or worse, ferals. Chaos followed, governments crumbling under the weight of fear and panic. Cities fell, industries shut down, and society as we knew it dissolved into nothing more than a pure fight for survival.

And these men had lived through it all.

Killian’s angular features lit up with amusement. “Anyway. I found Callum and Tobias while I was on the run myself. Just a scrappy kid tryin’ to survive after being bitten.”

“He bit us,” Callum said, his voice flat.

I blinked, surprised by the bluntness of his words. “You turned them?”

Killian’s grin faltered slightly, and for the first time, I saw something like guilt flicker across his face. “Didn’t mean to,” he said quietly. “It just… kind of happened.”

“He’s felt guilty about it ever since,” Tobias said dryly, his dark eyes narrowing. “Even though it’s probably the best thing he’s ever done.”

Killian’s grin returned, wider this time. “Aye, well, you’re welcome, mate.”

“And Magnus?” I asked, glancing at the dark-haired man who seemed to command so much respect without even trying.

Tobias let out a low sigh. “I went to him for help. He’s our cousin—used to work for the police and he always had a knack for bailing me out of trouble. Only this time…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“This time, helping you changed everything,” Magnus finished, his voice calm but laced with steel. Magnus’s gaze met mine, and I saw a flicker of something deeper—regret maybe, or anger—but it was gone too quickly to truly identify.

“And Thorne?” I asked, turning to the white-haired man who had remained silent until now.

His blue eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he spoke, his voice cold and clipped.

“I was sent to hunt Killian,” he said, his words cutting through the quiet like a blade. “Back in the early days of the Collapse, I was part of the SAS, a special British forces unit, that focused on tracking down wolves who’d escaped into the countryside. At the time, Killian was my target.”

I looked at Killian, whose grin had faded completely.

“You didn’t kill him,” I said quietly, stating the obvious.

Thorne’s pale eyes darkened. “No. I didn’t.”

Killian leaned back against a log, his grin returning, though it lacked its usual mischief. “Saved my life though,” he quipped.

“You know what happened after I saved his life?” Thorne said, glancing at Killian with mock affection. “The fucker bit me.”

“You’re welcome,” Killian added.

Thorne snorted. “You’re lucky I didn’t finish what I started.”

“ You’re lucky you didn’t,” Killian shot back.

“Both of you are lucky I don’t gag you,” Magnus said dryly, his tone laced with irritation.

Despite myself, I let out a soft laugh. It wasn’t much, but it eased some of the tension knotting in my chest.

Magnus leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at me with those piercing silver eyes.

“We were some of the first,” he continued. “The first wolves after the Collapse. Back when the virus tore through Ireland and the world didn’t know what the hell was happening. When the wolf virus hit, most of the infected went feral. They couldn’t control the change, couldn’t keep a hold of their humanity. They became animals. Predators. Monsters.”

Tobias let out a low, bitter laugh. “And the ones who didn’t go feral? The ones like us? We were hunted like animals anyway. People didn’t care if you could think or talk. If you shifted, you were a threat.”

“They were scared,” Callum added, his voice softer. “And honestly? I don’t blame them. The ferals destroyed everything they touched. Families, villages, entire cities.”

Magnus nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. “We were different. Stronger. More stable. We survived, but it wasn’t easy. People turned on each other. Governments collapsed. Ireland fell faster than most places because the virus spread too quickly to contain. And when the British decided they didn’t want the mess spilling over to their side of the water…”

“They used us as a dumping ground,” Killian finished, his golden-brown eyes gleaming with anger. “All their problems? All the infected they didn’t want to deal with? They sent ‘em here.”

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “So you survived through all of that?”

“Yes,” Magnus said simply.

“Very few wolves from that time are still alive. Most went feral, were hunted down, or didn’t survive long enough to figure out how to control the change,” Thorne interjected, his eyes sharp and cold.

“We stuck together. That’s the only reason we’re still here,” Callum said with a faint smile.

“Doesn’t hurt that we’re tougher than most,” Killian added, his grin returning. “And smarter, and better lookin’.”

Tobias shot him a glare. “Shut up, Killian.”

I glanced at Magnus, who was still watching me with that unsettling calm. “And me? Where do I fit into all of this?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he said.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “I don’t even know where I came from. Why I’m here. I can’t remember.”

Magnus’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You sound like you’re from England, but it doesn’t make sense. England doesn’t send humans here, they only dump shifters.”

I frowned, trying to remember something, anything that could explain how I’d ended up here, but my memories were so hazy, it was like trying to grab smoke with my hands. All I could remember was that face… My brother’s face…

“They dumped me here?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

Thorne spoke up, his tone clipped. “We don’t know for sure, but it’s the most logical explanation.”

“But why wouldn’t I remember?” I asked, looking between them. “If they sent me here, why can’t I remember anything before waking up in the woods?”

“Memory tampering isn’t unheard of,” Magnus said, his voice calm, but tense. “Especially if they wanted to make sure you didn’t know too much about where you came from—or why they got rid of you.”

“So, what now?” I asked, forcing myself to meet Magnus’s gaze. “What happens to me?”

“You survive,” Magnus said firmly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stick with us. Whatever your past is, whatever your reasons for being here, it doesn’t matter now. Out here, the only thing that matters is staying alive.”

I glanced around at the five of them—their strength, their knowing stares, the way they moved as a unit without even realizing it.

They were dangerous, but they were also my best chance.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. “Fine. I’ll stick around.”

Magnus gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “Good.”

Killian leaned back on his hands. “Welcome to the pack, lass. Don’t worry, we’re not all bad.”

“Just that one, mostly,” Tobias muttered, pointing at Killian, which earned a laugh from Callum and a scowl from Killian.

I shook my head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at my lips despite the fear still gnawing at my chest.

For better or worse, I was with them as a part of their pack.

For now, at least.