Page 35 of The Pack

The woods were alive with sound—the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of birds—but my focus was on him. His dark hair caught the light as he glanced back at me, his eyes sparkling with something mischievous.

Then, without warning, he stopped.

“Watch this,” he said, grinning.

And in the blink of an eye, he wasn’t human anymore.

His body rippled, his limbs twisting and shifting as fur sprouted along his skin. The change was seamless, fluid, and when it was over, a wolf stood where my brother had been. His coat was a deep, glossy black, his eyes the same warm brown I’d known my whole life.

“See?” his voice echoed in my mind, though his mouth didn’t move.

I stared, my breath caught in my chest. “You… you’re…”

“Still me,” he said, tilting his head.

“But you’re not feral,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a bolt of lightning. “They said… they said wolves can’t…”

“They lied,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Zara.”

Thorne’s voice broke through the memory, and I blinked, the present rushing back to meet me. He was watching me, his eyes narrowed with concern.

“What?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“You stopped. You look… pale.”

I shook my head, my pulse racing as I tried to make sense of what I’d just remembered. My brother had shifted. He’d been a wolf—but he wasn’t feral.

He’d been…himself.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, brushing past Thorne and forcing my feet to keep moving.

But I wasn’t fine.

The memory lingered, sharp and vivid, like another piece of the puzzle sliding into place. My brother wasn’t like the others. He hadn’t gone feral. He’d proved they were wrong.

He’d provedEnglandwrong. That meant everything I’d been told—everything the government had drilled into us—was a lie.

Thorne’s footsteps were silent as he followed me through the woods. I could feel his presence behind me, steady and unyielding, like a shadow I couldn’t shake. My heart was still pounding from the memory, my thoughts tangled as I tried to make sense of it.

“Zara,” Thorne said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “You’re not fine.”

“I told you, I’m totally fine,” I snapped, quickening my pace.

He didn’t let it drop. “You froze back there. I saw it. Something’s bothering you.”

I whirled to face him, the words bubbling up before I could stop them. “Why do you care?”

Thorne stopped, his eyes meeting mine. They were so calm, so still, but there was something behind them—something heavy, like the weight of an entire world pressed against his shoulders.

“Because I’ve seen that look before,” he said simply.

My jaw clenched, my arms crossing over my chest as I tried to shield myself. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is if it gets you killed out here,” Thorne said gently.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. The memory of my brother’s face lingered, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

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