Page 71 of The Pack

“Do you believe the stories?” I whispered to Callum, who was walking just ahead of me.

He hesitated, his gray eyes darting to the trees before he answered. “I don’t know, but I’ve heard enough to make me cautious.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I muttered, earning a faint smile from him.

Magnus, walking at the front, hummed a low tune under his breath, the familiar sound somehow grounding despite the unease pressing in around us.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, his voice calm, but firm. “Just keep moving.”

The path narrowed as we descended deeper into the forest, the dense trees closing in on either side. The Wicklow Mountains were beautiful from a distance, their green slopes rising against the horizon like something out of a storybook. But up close, thebeauty turned rugged, every step a challenge as the trail wound through uneven ground and patches of tangled undergrowth.

The air grew stagnant, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest itself was watching us. Every rustle of leaves, every distant snap of a branch set my nerves on edge.

Magnus led the way. He moved with the quiet confidence of someone who’d navigated places like this before, his broad shoulders cutting through the overgrowth like it was nothing. Tobias followed closely behind him.

Callum stayed at my side, his usual easy demeanor dimmed by the tension in the air. Killian brought up the rear, his red hair catching the occasional shaft of sunlight that managed to break through the dense canopy overhead. Thorne walked silently on the outskirts of the group, his pale eyes never resting in one place for long.

“I’ve decided,” Killian said, breaking the heavy silence, “that I hate this bloody trail.”

“You decided that just now?” Tobias asked dryly.

Killian shrugged, his grin flashing. “What can I say? I like to take my time forming opinions.”

Callum let out a low laugh, though the sound was softer than usual. “You’re just mad you can’t see what’s ahead.”

“Exactly,” Killian said, kicking at a loose rock. “I like to know when something’s about to try and eat me.”

“Then you’re in the wrong forest,” Thorne said, his voice clipped as his gaze swept the trees.

As we moved further into the woods, the sunlight grew scarce, replaced by a hazy, eerie fog that seemed to come from nowhere. The trail became steeper, the rocky ground shifting underfoot. I stumbled, my boot catching on a root hidden beneath the moss, and Callum caught my arm before I could fall.

“Careful,” he said gently, his eyes flicking to mine.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my cheeks flushing.

Magnus slowed, his hand raised in a silent signal for us to stop. We froze, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“What is it?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes narrowing as he sniffed the air. “Something’s not right,” he said finally.

Tension rippled through the group, everyone straightening as they scanned the surrounding trees.

“Feral pack?” Tobias asked, his voice low.

Magnus shook his head. “No. Something else.”

“Something worse?” Killian quipped, though his grin had vanished.

“Maybe,” Magnus said grimly.

Callum’s hand tightened on my arm as he turned toward Tobias. “You don’t think it’s…”

“It’s nothing,” Magnus said firmly, cutting him off.

But the look that passed between Callum and Tobias said otherwise.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

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