Page 15 of The Pack

Like I wanted them.

Like I needed them…

“What’s happening to me?” I demanded, my voice cracking.

The silver-eyed man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “It’s exactly what I told you. Your body is going into heat.”

“Stop saying that!” I snapped, clutching at the rough leather wrap that barely covered me. My skin prickled with the sensation of being vulnerable, like I wasn’t just naked but completely exposed. In the seconds that followed, every nerve ending sparked to life.

“I’m human,” I insisted. “This can’t happen to me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

The man—dark hair, silver eyes, angular jawline—sighed, his voice softening just slightly.

“No, it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

He turned his head slightly toward the others, speaking low enough that I almost didn’t hear him. “Tobias, Thorne, Callum. Shift. She needs to know who she’s dealing with.”

The tallest of the three wolves he named—the one with dark, brooding eyes and blackish-gray fur—narrowed his gaze, but obeyed. His body rippled, shifting from a hulking wolf to an equally hulking man in the blink of an eye. He was intimidating: all well-defined lines and quiet intensity, his muscles corded with tension like he was ready to spring into action at any moment. His knowing stare locked onto me, and I felt my pulse quicken.

The second one—lighter, younger, with shaggy gray fur—shifted next. He was the opposite of the first: approachable, warm, almost boyish. His face was open, his eyes curious as he studied me, but there was something solid in the way he held himself, like he was ready to jump to my defense if anything went wrong.

Finally, the third wolf stepped forward. His white fur melted away to reveal a man with pale skin and angular, aristocratic features. His hair was a stark white that matched his wolf form, and his eyes were icy and calculating. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who had survived too much to be afraid of anything anymore.

The last wolf didn’t shift.

I blinked, my gaze darting between the three of them, to the wolf, then back to the dark-haired one who seemed to be leading them. “Who—what—are you people?”

The dark-haired man with silver eyes stepped closer, and I instinctively backed away, but the heat flared in my core again, making my legs tremble and my knees go weak.

“I’m Magnus,” he said, his voice calm. He gestured toward the tall, brooding one. “That’s Tobias.”

Tobias gave me a single nod, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Magnus pointed to the warm, blackish-gray-haired man next. “Callum.”

Callum offered me a faint smile, though there was something cautious in his gaze.

“And the stoic one is Thorne.” Magnus nodded toward the white-haired man, who didn’t so much as blink.

“Magnus, Tobias, Callum, Thorne,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And the reddish one?” I asked, glancing toward the last wolf, still in his animal form, standing slightly apart from the group.

“That’s Killian,” Magnus said, his tone more casual now, but his eyes never left mine.

Killian growled softly, his golden-brown eyes flicking toward Magnus before he stepped back into the shadows.

“Now that you know us,” Magnus said, turning his full attention back to me, “it’s your turn. How did you get here?”

“I don’t know!” I snapped, frustration bubbling over. The fire inside me was only getting worse, clawing at my composure. “I woke up in the woods wearing this stupid leather thing, and I don’t remember anything before that.”

Except for that one familiar face I dreamed about…

The others exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them. I tried to get a read on them, but it felt impossible. I stayed quiet, lifting my chin and trying to pretend I was okay when I was so far from it that it wasn’t even funny.

Magnus stepped closer, his silver eyes narrowing. “And your heat? You feel it?”

“Of course I feel it!” I shouted, pressing a hand to my chest as if that would stop the burning inside me. “But I don’t know what it is, or why it’s happening, or why I?—”

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