Page 113 of The Pack

My heart skipped a beat, and I scrambled to my feet, clutching the cloak around me. “What is that?”

“Trouble,” Thorne muttered, his fear etched across his face.

Another growl answered the first, closer this time. Then another. And another.

“Whatever it is, they’re surrounding us,” Tobias said grimly, his blade already in his hand.

Callum sniffed the air, his expression darkening. “There’s more than one. A dozen, maybe.”

Killian cursed under his breath, his grin long gone. “We’ve wandered into the wrong bloody place.”

The growls grew louder, and the world stopped.

One of the creatures emerged from the shadows in the distance, its massive form loping toward us on two legs. It was… wrong, twisted in a way that made my stomach churn. Its body was muscular, its elongated limbs rippling with unnatural strength. Blackened veins pulsed beneath its leathery skin, which was mottled and hairless in places.

Its head was wolf-like but distorted, the snout too long, the jaws too wide, filled with jagged teeth that gleamed in the dim light. Its glowing yellow eyes were set deep in its skull, radiating a cold, predatory intelligence that made my blood run cold.

But the worst part was the sound it made—a guttural snarl that seemed to vibrate through the air, carrying with it the promise of violence.

“That’s not a wolf shifter,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“No,” Magnus said grimly. “That’s a mutation. A half-shifter, half… I don’t know what.”

“Radiation did this,” Thorne said, his voice tight. “The virus didn’t stop evolving. Here in the city, it adapted.”

The creature tilted its head, its glowing eyes narrowing as it sniffed the air. Then it let out an ear-splitting howl, its jagged claws scraping against the cracked pavement as it lunged forward.

Magnus grabbed my arm, his eyes locking onto mine. “We’re running,” he commanded. “Now.”

“There are too many of them!” Tobias growled. “We’ll never outrun them all!”

“Two of us will carry her,” Magnus said, already shifting into wolf form. His silver coat gleamed in the haze, his sharp teeth bared. “The rest of you hold them off.”

“No,” I protested, my voice shaking. “I can run?—”

“You’re not fast enough,” Thorne snapped, his pale blue eyes flashing as he shifted into his wolf form.

“I’ll take her,” Callum said, already stepping forward.

Killian cursed again, as he glanced between the approaching beasts and the pack. “This is madness,” he muttered, his grin returning faintly. “But what the hell. I’ll slow them down.”

The creatures emerged fully now, one by one, their massive forms stalking toward us and closing the distance between us with terrifying focus.

They were grotesque, their twisted bodies built for killing. Their glowing eyes locked onto us, their snarls growing louder as they closed the distance between us and them.

“Go!” Magnus barked, his voice deafeningly loud.

Callum grabbed me, his arms strong and steady as he hoisted me onto his back. “Hold on, Zara,” he said, his voice soft, but urgent.

The pack sprang into motion, Magnus and Thorne leading the charge as wolves. Tobias and Killian stayed back, their weapons gleaming as they turned to face the oncoming monsters.

The last thing I saw before Callum bolted with me on his back was the twisted grin of one of the creatures, its jagged teeth bared as it lunged toward Killian.

Then we were running.

In a matter of moments, everything turned to shit.

Callum ran as fast as his legs could carry us, his breaths heavy and uneven as he bolted through the crumbled streets of Dublin. The sounds of the mutated creatures echoed behind us—snarls, growls, the scrape of claws on pavement. They were getting closer.

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