Page 9 of The Pack

CHAPTER 9

Z ara

The fire had burned low, its embers glowing faintly in the dark, but I didn’t feel the chill of the night. My thoughts were far from the camp, far from the woods, and far from the group of wolves that now surrounded me.

Instead, my mind was back in London.

Back home…

My memory was starting to come back now.

I sat by the fading fire, just thinking through it all and coming to terms with what it meant for me, and for my brother.

London had always felt like a city of rules. It wasn’t just the angular lines of the architecture—the towering spires and narrow streets—but the way the people moved through it. Like clockwork. Precise. Predictable. You knew where you stood, what was expected of you, and what happened if you stepped out of line.

Even as a kid, I understood that.

The Regency—the government—kept the city running like a machine, and people didn’t question it. Why would they? Life in London was orderly. Safe. Or so I’d thought.

My brother, Logan, never quite fit into that world. He was older than me by seven years, and from as far back as I could remember, he’d always been the one who challenged things. Where I’d dutifully followed the rules, Logan had pushed at them, testing their limits. He was the kind of person who couldn’t stop himself from asking why or what if .

I idolized him for that.

For most of my childhood, he was my protector, my champion, and my best friend. We didn’t have much, just a cramped flat in one of the outer districts and each other, but that was enough.

When Logan turned twenty-nine, everything changed.

We were walking in the woods just outside London. Logan said we needed space—fresh air, something to clear our heads. It wasn’t like him to need that kind of escape, but he’d been restless for weeks, pacing the flat like a caged animal. His appetite had vanished, and the dark circles under his eyes had made him look like a ghost of himself, so I didn’t argue.

The woods were quiet, the stillness unsettling. I stayed close behind him, watching the way his shoulders tensed with every step, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“Logan,” I said softly. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer at first, his knowing stare fixed on the path ahead. Then he stopped, turning to face me. His dark eyes met mine, wide with something that made my chest tighten. Fear.

“Zara,” he said, his voice shaking. “If something happens… I need you to promise me you’ll run. Don’t look back.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my heart racing. “Logan, you’re scaring me.”

Before he could answer, his body tensed, and he turned away from me, only for him to take off his shirt.

“Logan…” I whispered, my voice breaking.

His muscles rippled, his spine arching unnaturally as his body began to change. Fur sprouted along his arms, spreading quickly as his face elongated, his jaw widening into something sharper, more animalistic.

It took mere seconds, but when it was over, I was staring at a wolf with fur as black as night. But when he turned to look at me, his eyes were the same. Dark, familiar, and full of fear.

“Logan?” I whispered, taking a tentative step forward.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words echoing in my mind as if spoken from somewhere deep within. “I tried to stop it. I tried to fight it.”

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands trembling. “You’re still you,” I said shakily. “You’re still my brother.”

His gaze held mine, wide and uncertain.

“What if I’m not?”

“You are,” I insisted, my chest tightening as I reached for him. My fingers brushed the fur on his arm, and he flinched but didn’t pull away. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

The woods were silent around us and for the first time in my life, I realized the world I thought I understood was built on lies.

Logan wasn’t feral. He wasn’t a monster.

He was still my brother.

For months, we stayed hidden, the curtains drawn, the doors locked. Logan refused to go outside, terrified that someone would see him and report him.

In London, the law was clear: all wolves went feral, and all wolves were a danger. If you were bitten, if you turned, you were no longer human. You were no longer anything. You ceased being a citizen and if you didn’t report yourself, you were punished.

The government didn’t waste time debating the merits of saving shifters. They were sent to Ireland, where the wild land had become a dumping ground for everything England wanted to forget.

And if you helped a wolf?

You were as good as dead.

At first, I believed the government’s lies. I’d grown up hearing them—hearing about the raids, the chaos wolves brought, the violence they carried. But Logan wasn’t like that. He wasn’t violent or out of control. He was still Logan.

He still laughed at my bad jokes. He still sang off-key when he cooked breakfast. He was still the big brother who had taken care of me when I was little and scraped my knees.

But the fear never left his eyes.

The night they found us was the worst night of my life.

I’d set up a room for him behind the closet—a hidden panel he could slip behind whenever someone came to the door. It wasn’t much, but it had kept him safe.

Until it didn’t.

I still didn’t know how they found us. Maybe someone had noticed the strange hours we kept. Maybe I’d been careless. It didn’t matter. They came in force—police officers in dark uniforms, their boots loud against the wooden floor.

They dragged Logan out of his hiding place, ignoring his protests, ignoring my screams.

“I need to find him,” I said aloud, the words breaking through the quiet. The pack looked at me, their faces shadowed in the flickering light.

“Don’t worry, lass. We will,” Magnus whispered.

Callum offered a small smile, Killian a mischievous grin. Tobias grunted, and Thorne…

Thorne’s pale blue eyes met mine, warm and calm. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes told me enough.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

I had them.

The next morning came really early.

Magnus stood near the fireplace, a small, tattered map spread across the table before him. His dark hair gleamed in the early morning light, making him look like something out of a storybook—calm, commanding, and entirely too handsome for his own good.

“Are we ready?” he asked briskly as he scanned the faces around him.

Tobias nodded, his dark eyes narrowing. “Callum and I will scout the path ahead. Thorne and Killian can bring up the rear.”

“And Zara?” Magnus asked, his head turning toward me.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, standing a little straighter.

Magnus’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face. Without a word, he stepped forward and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small yellow flower, its petals bright and cheerful against the roughness of his hand.

“What’s this?” I asked, surprised.

“For your hair,” he said simply, his tone softer now.

My cheeks flushed as he tucked the flower gently behind my ear. His fingers brushed against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine and a spike of arousal straight down to my clit.

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Perfect.”

I blushed and gently touched the flower, finding the gesture sweet. Unexpectedly so.

The rest of the pack had busied themselves with the final preparations, but Callum caught the moment. His gray eyes sparkled with mischief as he sidled over, his smile easy and warm.

“Here,” he said, pulling a small leather pouch from his pack. “For the road.”

He handed it to me, and when I opened it, the faint, familiar aroma of dried herbs and spices wafted up. Nestled inside were strips of venison jerky, but these weren’t plain. They were coated in something—pepper and honey, maybe? My stomach growled at the sight.

“I thought you’d like something better than Tobias’s usual flavorless ration cuts,” he said, grinning.

I laughed softly, the tension in my chest loosening for the first time all morning. “Thank you. I didn’t know you were a chef.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Tobias cut in from a few paces away, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His dark eyes were cold as ever, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Callum thinks he’s the heart of the group. Always trying to butter people up.”

Callum shrugged, completely unbothered. “And you like to think you’re the brain. Let’s not question what works.”

Before I could reply, Tobias stepped closer, holding out a well-worn cloak. It was thick, made from sturdy wool, and had clearly seen its fair share of harsh weather.

“You’ll need this,” Tobias said gruffly. “The weather’s unpredictable, and you’ll freeze without it.”

I hesitated before taking it, the weight of it surprising. “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just gave a curt nod, but his knowing stare lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary.

“We leave nothing to chance,” he said, almost to himself, before turning away. Mysterious…

A short while later, we set off.

Killian fell into step beside me, his ever-present grin making me suspicious of whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“You know,” he began, his Irish lilt carrying easily through the quiet, “this whole ‘pack princess’ thing you’ve got going is working out for you.”

I blinked, startled. “Pack princess?”

“Aye,” he said, his grin widening. “Magnus picking flowers for you, Callum feeding you gourmet jerky, Tobias handing over his favorite cloak. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re already the queen of this lot.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “And you? What’s your role in this pack dynamic, Killian? The jester?”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, lass. You wound me.”

“Good,” I replied, but I couldn’t help but grin in return.

Killian laughed, the sound warm and unrestrained. “Stick with me, Zara. You’ll need someone to keep you grounded when these other lot get too serious.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I quipped, glancing behind me.

Thorne brought up the rear, his pale blue eyes scanning the path and the woods beyond. He hadn’t said much since we left, but I noticed how his focus seemed to shift back to me at regular intervals.

When the trail narrowed and the footing became treacherous, he moved closer, his hand clasping my arm to steady me when I stumbled.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and even.

“I’ve got it,” I said, though the truth was that I grateful for the thoughtful assist.

He nodded but didn’t move far, keeping close enough to intervene if needed. Magnus walked just ahead of me, and when I cleared my throat, he turned back to look at me.

“What did you do before… everything?” I asked, my voice hesitant, but curious.

He glanced back, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I was a Garda,” he said simply.

“A Garda?”

“Irish police,” he explained, his tone light, but edged with something deeper. “I worked in Dublin for years before the Collapse. Spent most of my time trying to keep the peace, though it didn’t always go to plan.”

“You were a cop?” I said, my surprise evident.

Magnus chuckled softly. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”

“What about you two?” I asked, turning to Callum and Tobias, who walked side by side.

Callum’s grin widened, his gray eyes sparkling. “Sheep farmers,” he said, his tone almost proud.

“Sheep farmers?” I repeated, a laugh slipping out despite myself.

Tobias’s dark eyes flicked toward me, his expression calm, but amused. “Our family had a small farm in the countryside. Sheep, chickens, a few goats. Nothing fancy, but it kept us busy.”

“And you were happy?”

Callum nodded, his smile softening. “Aye, we were. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. Until the Collapse came and tore it all apart.”

Tobias’s jaw tightened slightly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “We couldn’t protect the farm, couldn’t protect the animals—or each other.”

Callum placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, his touch grounding. “But we made it,” he said quietly. “And we’re still here.”

I turned to Killian, who walked a few steps ahead, his fiery hair catching the light. “What about you?”

He glanced back, his cocky grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, you’ll love this one, lass,” he said, his Irish lilt thick with humor. “I was part of a gang.”

“A gang?” I asked, my eyebrows rising.

“Aye,” he said. “Dublin wasn’t exactly a peaceful place before the Collapse. I ran with a group—nothing too serious at first, just petty theft and scraps here and there—but things escalated fast when the virus hit. The gangs became the only law in the city, and I… well, I did what I had to do to survive.”

There was no pride in his voice, just honesty.

“You regret it?” I asked softly.

Killian shrugged, his grin fading slightly. “Some of it, sure. But if I hadn’t been part of that gang, I wouldn’t have learned how to fight, how to think on my feet. It’s the reason I’m still standing.”

I smiled and kept walking, losing myself in my thoughts.

They were all so different, yet they’d found a way to survive together, to create something new out of the ruins of what was lost.

For the first time, I wondered if I could truly belong with them, the way they belonged to each other.

By the time we reached a suitable clearing to set up camp for the night, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of gold, orange, pink, and crimson.

As the fire crackled to life and the pack settled in, I found myself watching them—these men who had somehow become my best chance at survival.

And for finding my brother.

Magnus, with his steady leadership. Callum, with his endless warmth. Tobias, with his fierce protectiveness. Killian, with his sense of humor. And Thorne, always watching, always guarding, always protecting.

I didn’t want to admit it—not to them, and certainly not to myself—but they were starting to grow on me.

Magnus, with his calm authority, was impossible to ignore. He carried himself with an air of command, but there was a gentleness to him too. Like the way he tucked that flower behind my ear this morning, his fingers brushing my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The memory made my cheeks warm.

Callum was a different kind of warmth altogether. His easy smile, his constant effort to lighten the mood, and the way he seemed to know when I needed a moment of kindness. He was like a fire on a cold night—comforting, inviting, but just wild enough to keep things interesting.

Then there was Tobias, brooding, quiet, and fiercely protective. He was the one who noticed the details, who didn’t speak much but always seemed to know exactly what to do. He reminded me of a storm cloud—dark and foreboding, but hiding a spark of electricity that could light up the world if you got close enough.

Killian was… well, Killian. Sarcastic, wild, and absolutely maddening at times. But beneath his teasing grin and quick wit, there was something deeper, something raw and unpolished that drew me in. Like the jagged edges of broken glass, dangerous but impossible to look away from.

And Thorne. Thorne was a mystery all on his own. He was cold, calculating, and impossibly steady, like a rock in the middle of a raging river. But there was a quiet kindness to him, a weight to his presence that made me feel safer than I cared to admit.

I exhaled slowly, looking to each one of them in turn as they moved around the fire—Magnus and Tobias discussing the map, Killian and Callum bickering over something trivial, and Thorne sharpening his blade in silence.

What would it be like, I wondered, to be with all of them ?

The thought hit me like a lightning bolt, my cheeks flushing as my heart raced. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Impossible.

Yet my traitorous mind refused to let it go.

Magnus’s hand at the small of my back, guiding me forward. Callum’s laugh, bright and unrestrained, as he pressed his forehead against mine. Tobias’s dark, smoldering gaze, his hand brushing my cheek. Killian’s lips, teasing and insistent, pulling me into his wild orbit with a kiss. And Thorne, always watching me with those icy blue eyes, seeing absolutely everything.

I bit my lip, heat pooling low in my stomach as the images flashed through my mind of when we’d first met, of them fucking me each in turn, and I blushed hard.

I shook my head, trying to push away such thoughts, but my mind kept turning right back to what it might be like to be with each one of them.

To truly be a part of their pack.

Not just as another member.

But as their mate.

Lost in my thoughts, I hardly noticed when the fire burned down to hot coals. I rubbed my arms and pulled Tobias’s cloak a bit tighter around my shoulders, the chill sinking into my skin despite the warmth of the fire.

Magnus noticed. He always did.

“You’ll be cold sleeping like that,” he said. Without waiting for an answer, he turned and knelt by the edge of the clearing, gathering thick tufts of moss and layering them into a soft, springy mat by the fire. Then he added a few more logs to the blaze to keep it burning.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured sheepishly when he returned, his hands brushing off stray bits of moss as he stood.

Magnus arched an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve had a rough few days. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.”

I smiled back, surprised by how easily it came. “Thank you.”

He nodded, his expression softening as he laid the mat near the fire. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

When I went to lie down, the moss was softer than I expected, its faint, earthy scent grounding me. Magnus draped Tobias’s cloak over me, heavy and warm, and I found myself relaxing for the first time since I’d woken up in this strange, wild world.

I felt movement beside me and opened my eyes to see Magnus lowering himself onto the ground beside me. He lay close, his presence a steady, comforting weight against the chaos still swirling in my mind.

“You’ll be warmer this way,” he said quietly.

Before I could respond, I felt another presence on my other side. Callum settled down beside me, his boyish grin soft in the firelight.

“Magnus is right,” he said, tucking the edge of the cloak more securely around me. “We’ll keep you safe.”

The warmth of their bodies, their steady breaths beside me, was more comforting than I wanted to admit.

I closed my eyes, listening to the gentle crackle of the fire beside me. I was on the edge of sleep when Magnus shifted, his hand brushing lightly against my cheek.

“Zara,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his eyes soft but intense. His hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of my jaw before cupping my cheek.

My breath hitched, my heart pounding as he leaned closer. His lips brushed mine, and the world seemed to stop as he kissed me.

When he pulled back, his gaze held mine, searching.

“I just want you to know that you’re stronger than you think,” he said softly.

Before I could respond, Callum’s warm laugh broke the quiet. “Magnus always gets the first move, doesn’t he?”

I turned my head to find Callum watching me with a playful grin, though there was a softness in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before.

“Callum,” I started, but he reached out, his fingers tilting my chin toward him.

“Relax, Zara,” he said, his voice low, but teasing. “It’s just me.”

And then he kissed me too.

It was different from Magnus’s—lighter, sweeter, but just as devastating. His lips curved into a smile against mine, and when he pulled back, his gray eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Goodnight, Zara,” he said, settling back against the moss with a satisfied sigh.

But I wasn’t ready for this moment to end.

My heart raced, my breaths shallow as I glanced between the two of them. Magnus, commanding and kind, still watching me like he could see through to my very soul. Callum, warm and inviting, his easy smile lingering like the promise of something lighter, something softer.

Before I could think better of it, I turned to Magnus.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice quiet in the crackling hush of the firelight.

His silver eyes softened. “For what?”

“For this.” I gestured vaguely at the makeshift sleeping mat, at the way he’d positioned himself beside me, close enough to keep the cold at bay. “For everything.”

Magnus didn’t respond right away. Instead, his hand came up again, cupping my cheek like before. The warmth of his palm sent a shiver through me, and I found myself leaning into the touch.

Then, acting on instinct, I tilted my face toward his and pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was tentative at first, soft and searching, but the moment his lips moved against mine, it deepened. His hand slipped to the back of my neck, holding me in place as his thumb traced a slow, steady line along my jaw.

By the time we pulled apart, my cheeks were flushed, and my heart pounding so loudly I was sure the others could hear it.

I turned, my breath still shaky, to find Callum watching us with a grin that could only be described as smug. I shifted toward him, my pulse thrumming as I leaned in. His grin faltered slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes, but it disappeared the moment my lips met his.

Callum’s kiss was everything Magnus’s wasn’t—light and playful, with a hint of mischief that made me smile even as my chest tightened. His hand found my waist, holding me steady as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

When we broke apart, Callum’s grin returned, but there was something softer behind it now, something quieter. My cheeks were burning, my thoughts a chaotic swirl, but for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t care.

I spotted movement toward the edge of my mat and turned to see Tobias climbing over me. In seconds, he was crouched over me, his dark eyes searching mine. The entire time, he was careful, as though he were giving me time to stop him if I wanted to.

I didn’t.

“Tobias,” I whispered.

His gaze softened at the sound of his name. “May I?” he asked, his tone rough, but gentle.

I nodded, unable to form the words.

He leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so soft it sent shivers through me. Tobias, who always seemed so stoic, so controlled, kissed me with surprising tenderness. His hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb tracing my cheek as he deepened the kiss, his touch gentle but sure.

When he pulled back, his dark eyes lingered on mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

Before I could respond, Killian’s voice cut through the quiet, brash and playful. “Bloody hell, Tobias. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

I turned my head to see Killian lounging on his side near the fire. “Didn’t think you’d kiss her like she was made of glass, either,” he added, winking at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound shaky but real.

“You’ve got something to say, Killian?” I said, my own voice just as snarky.

“Always,” he said, his grin never faltering. “But don’t let me stop you. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks.”

I rolled my eyes, though the warmth in my chest didn’t fade.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Thorne watching us. He sat a little apart from the group, his pale blue eyes flicking between us, taking everything in.

For a moment, I thought he’d say something too—offer a clipped comment or one of his cold, calculated observations. But instead, his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile.

It was fleeting, gone almost as soon as it appeared, but it was there.

I settled back onto the moss, my heart still fluttering as I closed my eyes.

I didn’t allow myself to think about what that might mean.