Page 8 of Pack Nightmare

I can’t help but play it up a bit more. “Sure, but you’re not telling me the most important part: what am I going to wear?” I make my tone high and reedy, my best impression of a whiny teenager, and it draws a laugh from Roxanne.

“That is certainly not something I ever thought I’d hear from Layla Harridan,” she chuckles. “Quite honestly, I’m shocked you’re already thinking about it. Perhaps I’m finally rubbing off on you.”

I snort. “Roxanne, although you seem to enjoy buying me sparkly things, I’ve never seen you wear anything but this uniform of button-down shirts and ballet flats. What exactly do you think would rub off on me?”

“Girl, just because I don’t wear flashy outfits for work doesn’t mean I don’t like sparkly things. You’ve never seen my closet, so don’t go assuming you know all there is to know about me.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? This is all you wore in LA. For a year!”

“Yes, and I was working that entire time.” The matter-of-fact statement knocks the breath from my lungs and I deflate just a little.

“Ouch,” I sniff. “That was harsh.” I’d considered that time to be a little more personal than just an extremely long work shift.

Her tone softens. “You know I enjoyed spending time with you. I just meant I wasn’t there to go out and party. I had to stay focused on the mission at hand, or risk losing everything.”

“I’m sure you had it pretty rough, considering you couldn’t shift while you were there. Was that hard?”

“Extremely. You remember I took several weekends off, and Maria would come stay with you?” I nod. “That was just me going home to run with the pack. I needed the time to shift and reconnect. I’m not the only one it was difficult for. It was a big deal for your uncle, huge, to have me gone for that long. Without his beta for a year, I left him with all the day-to-day work to manage on his own. But staying with you in LA needed to be done, and there was no one else he would trust with the job. It was the most important thing he ever asked of me.” Her gaze warms. “It was hard, but it was a hundred percent worth it, because you’re here now.”

Something warm unfurls in my chest, and the tightness in my body eases. “I understand.”

“So,” she glances down at the notebook of notes on her lap. “I think we have this week’s events covered, and I’ll let you know if anything else comes up during our daily briefs. Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

“I think that’s it for now. I’d tell Chef to assume the guys are staying for dinner. It feels like they’re here more than their own homes, at this point.”

Roxanne nods sagely. “That’s to be expected. As your fated, their duty is to be your protectors, your supporters. If they didn’t want to be around you as much as possible, we’d have to question why. As it stands, they are welcome whenever you want them here. Chef is always happy to accommodate a few extra plates at dinner.”

Chapter Five

Layla

Dinner and video games are fun, but eventually the guys have to get home. In the wake of all the wolf fight practices and finally winning the alpha challenge, I made them promise we’ll take a few nights off the midnight runs so we could all catch up on our sleep.

I’m not about to sacrifice that extra rest so they can stay up just as late on the new PlayStation Roxanne got me.

Regardless, I’m strangely restless after they’re gone. I reach out with my feelings, and sense their warm, glowing happiness among the pack in town. When I close my eyes, it’s like a color map of emotions within my head, and I can see the general contentment, like a sea of bright blue, that floats over the population. Brighter yellow specks of discomfort or red anger are few, and seem to fade quickly as I watch. The deeper blues and purples, which I associate with happiness and peace, likely people who are relaxing, make up a large swath.

A sense of peace fills my chest, knowing that the pack is generally at ease and content.

So what is making it impossible for me to relax?

My mind drifts to Derrek, and I pluck the thread of discomfort in my heart that appears when I think of him. But it’s like sending a signal out to space—my emotion doesn’t connect with him the same way it does with my fated. Even so, I still feel myself connected to him in a way that is frustratingly undeniable.

Restless, I decide to visit the library and see if there’s any information I can find on his history. If he’s connected to our pack seer, and they’re an integral part of the pack, there has to be something about his family in the library.

I pad into the large burgundy room and breathe in the scent of so many books. It’s an intangible yet overwhelming feeling of possibility, of promise. So many pages I’ve not yet flipped, so many things to learn.

Over the weekend, Mr. Carson mentioned that the second floor is where more pointed materials on the pack history are shelved—that way they’re out of reach for basic perusers of books, and if he wants to prevent access, he simply removes the ladder.

Tonight it’s hooked on the rails, waiting for me to climb. I give the polished mahogany a shake, but it’s firmly set, with locking mechanisms on the floor wheels already engaged. After a couple of tentative steps, I’m reassured by its stability, and I climb up to the mezzanine.

It’s not a proper floor, just a narrow catwalk with an ornate railing and a ladder of its own to reach books on the highest shelves. Once I verify the smaller ladder is equally sturdy, I slide it to my desired stack and engage the wheel locks, then climb to the section Mr. Carson recommended. There are several books without writing on the spine that I open to discover are filled with hand-written accounts. Diaries, for a lack of a better word. The inside covers have labels added, with the name and dates of the events covered within. I flip through several, trying to read the ornate, flowing script that fills the pages.

“Ahem.” Mr. Carson clears his throat and I jump so abruptly that I almost fall from the ladder. I drop the book I was looking at, and my gaze darts guiltily at Mr. Carson.

“My apologies, Layla. I waited for you to notice me, but after a period, I thought I ought to just make you aware of my presence.”

“No, it’s fine. I was definitely lost to the world.” I descend the ladder and retrieve the small book I dropped, checking its faded green cover for damage.

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