Page 5 of This Pack of Ours

3 MONTHS LATER

JUNIPER

I glanced again at where Kit was snuggled on the couch, feeling so guilty I’d lost my temper on him. I didn’t know what he was still doing with me. Once, I probably would have been a great roommate, but six months ago, the world had changed me.

My dad smiled reassuringly as he started the drip to sedate me for my heat. He was my safety in a world where we didn’t have money for true protection. “See you on the other side, Juni-bug,” he said softly. “I’ve got you, okay?” I smiled up at him as I felt the coldness spreading through my arm, and then it was dark.

I woke in my room to find a pair of paramedics leaning over me. The air was wrong, the scent of blood and a bitter, curdled tang that stuck in my nose. I scrambled back, searching for my dad. He was leaning against the wall, and I tried to get to him. There were so many people in the room, and they didn't want me to reach him..

I fought, crashing to the ground beside him, my hands landing in a puddle of blood. I looked up, and he was wrong. His skin was waxy and pale, his face oddly stiff. His hand was stuck, clasped around a pistol.

It took two people to drag me away from him, and that’s when I saw the other body on the far side of my bed. This one’s blood wasn’t just in a puddle; it was sprayed all over my dresser and mirror. And his hand was stuck, too, grasping a fistful of my ancientPinky Ponytop sheet.

I started screaming, struggling to get free. More hands grabbed me, forcing me to the ground, and then I felt a sharp jab in my arm. The terrifying darkness came back.

When I opened my eyes again, Iwasin the hospital with the police. They talked to me, making accusations disguised as questions.

“...Were you in public when your heat hit? …Did you delay getting home? …Who did you tell? …Why did you choose to sedate in your room for your heat?”

I screamed at them to fuck off, but then the room filled with people holding me down. The needle was coming, and I screamed harder, because they were going to put me under again, and I couldn’t do that; anything could happen and I’d be powerless.

As soon as I came to, I ripped out my IV and left.

After that, I didn’t have the luxury of taking time to process everything. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. I’d sit on the couch and hug my knees, and every time I drifted off, I’d wake up in a panic that lasted until morning. I had to keep going; I had to get ready for the day and keep doing what needed to be done. There was work and rent and the cleaning bill to get the blood out of my carpet. There was the funeral and the will and the hospital bill. The police, again, and then the fucking Institute’s ‘post-trauma debrief’.

All they wanted to talk about was my fucking registration.

“You’re aware your year is almost complete, Miss Anders? You have less than a month to get the injection before your eyes go gold forever. We have a nurse on call who can come right away. The kinds of heat management programs we offer to protect you from dangerous heats—they’re not offered to gold pack omegas.”

I told them to fuck off, too. Those programs weren’t enough. Me and dad had looked into them. The Institute didn’t give a fuck about me either way. Watching my eyes turn gold had given me a moment of vicious satisfaction, but it hadn’t fixed anything.

I was just running on anger, souring my scent every minute of the day. Ineededthe rage to keep going, because without the burning push to do something, I had nothing to distract me from the thing I hated most of all: myself.

So when my next heat came, I went online and found some random pack.

Maybe they’d be nice, or maybe they wouldn’t. It would be justice if they weren’t, penance for trying to escape my heat last time, for being so useless when my dad needed me.

I was sure that’s what I deserved until a pair of bright, bespectacled eyes met mine.

He looked like another rich downtown kid, but he spoke in a Gritch accent. I could see his nerves, but he offered to help me, anyway.

I didn’t want his help until he mentioned sedation—just like my dad had—and for a second, my dad was there. Watching me trying to meet up with this awful pack, but this time I didn’t feel angry. I felt so lost and alone.

Then Kit hugged me. A complete stranger, pulling me into his arms andcryingfor me. For my grief. He was the first person to touch me since my dad died, and nothing—nothing—had ever felt safer than that. He was magic with his warmth, his lovely almond buttercream scent, and his soothing purr. In his arms I could let go of that anger and allow myself to finally feel the pain; it was safe. And maybe it was weak, but it felt so nice not to have to do everything. To let someone else… care for me.

He took responsibility for finding me a pack, holding my hand as we went to their dorm. He spoke, so I didn’t have to. He got me a safe pack andfive thousand dollars, so I didn’t have to worry about rent for a while.

I steeled myself when goodbyes came, even though I was so afraid for him to go. I didn’t have a right to more of his time. But he took my hand again and stayed, as if it was perfectly normal.

“Heat buddies,”he said, and helped me nest and wash up. He got some scents from the pack, so I had some time to get used to them.

His almond buttercream was the best, though, and the one I clung to when it started. In the moments where I came down from the tempest, when I was resting, he was there. He set up in a corner, sometimes in various states of undress, but he didn’t touch me unless he was helping me drink some water or wash up.

“I’ve got you, Juniper,” he whispered, and I cried again in the bathroom while he tugged me close. I didn’t know how I would have survived the heat without him.

He took me to the bus station after, and I thought that was it. My head felt clear, and I was still angry, but I also felt… present, for the first time in months.

Instead of saying goodbye, he gave me his number and asked if I knew about any cheap places to rent. I selfishly told him about a place I was looking at, a two-bedroom apartment above a shop.

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