Page 30 of The Pack

CHAPTER 6

Zara

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 runningfromsomething—I was runningtowardsomeone.

“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 inhis 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,softwas 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.

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