The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 2

**Jake’s POV **

I know she’s lying. Not about everything, but there’s something bothering her, and I don’t like that. I especially don’t like that she doesn’t feel comfortable, or is too embarrassed to share whatever it is. I’m a fixer, it’s what I do, but how can I fix something if I don’t know what it is I need to fix?

Poppy keeps eating as if nothing happened, carefully cutting her pancakes into small pieces while Leo and I pretend the conversation never happened. The conversation about her flinching. About the moment earlier when something scared her badly enough that she jerked like someone had shouted in her ear or pinched her.

She said it was a muscle twitch, but my wolf disagrees, and he’s been uneasy ever since. Not aggressive, or protective in the usual way either, just… alert. Like he’s trying to hear something that’s just out of reach.

Leo notices everything too. I know he does. I can see it in the way his eyes keep drifting back to her whenever she isn’t looking. He’s watching her the way a wolf watches the edge of the forest when it knows something is moving in the trees. But neither of us pushes, not after everything. The last thing either of us wants is to corner her into running again.

Poppy laughs softly at something Leo says, and the tension in my shoulders eases a little. It’s the first real laugh she’s given us since she walked back into the pack yesterday. I didn’t realise how much I missed that sound until just now.

She finishes the last of the pancakes and leans back in her chair with a satisfied sigh.

“You weren’t joking about practicing,” she says.

I shrug, suddenly very interested in the empty plate in front of me.

“He’s been cooking like a man possessed for months,” Leo smirks.

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“It is not.”

Poppy glances between us, her smile widening slightly. “You’ve come a long way from the bunt toast you used to make me back at the clinic.”

I shrug again. “It kept me busy.”

It kept me sane, but I don’t say that out loud.

Her expression softens just slightly. “Well,” she says gently, “I’m glad you didn’t give up.”

My wolf lifts his head at that. I’m not sure whether she means the cooking… or her. Either way, I feel something in my chest loosen that’s been tight for months.

Poppy stretches slightly, pushing her hair back from her face.

“I might go get dressed and unpack my bags before I get too comfortable,” she says.

Leo nods toward the couch where he dropped them earlier.

“I’ll take them upstairs for you.”

“Thanks, but I can carry them.”

“Nah, you stay here and let Jake see you in his shirt a little longer,” he says with a wink, pushing up from his chair. “He likes it.” My ears burn immediately, but then she looks at me with an interest in her eyes that makes Leo’s teasing worth it. I know he’s not trying to annoy me; he’s actually trying to help, in his own strange way. And it makes Poppy smile and look at me the way she is right now, then I’ll let him embarrass me for the rest of our lives.

“I…”

Poppy laughs again, standing up from the table, and my words die in my throat. Because I let myself look at her again, really look at her. My shirt shows just enough of her thighs to make it very difficult to remember how breathing works.

It hangs loosely on her shoulders; the collar slipping slightly to one side so I can see the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, where my wolf wants to mark her. Her hair is still damp from the shower; the curls perfectly framing her beautiful face. She looks comfortable, relaxed, and like she belongs here. Like she belongs with us.

My wolf immediately perks up at that thought. “Mine.”

I ignore him and drag my gaze back up before it lingers anywhere it shouldn’t, but it’s already too late. Because Poppy is watching me with a curiosity that makes my heart stutter.

The corner of her mouth lifts slightly as she studies my reaction.

“You were saying something?” she asks.

My brain scrambles to remember the sentence I started three seconds ago.

“I…”

I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Leo makes a quiet choking sound beside me, clearly enjoying this far more than he should.

Poppy laughs again, soft and warm, and the sound hits somewhere deep in my chest. Goddess, I really did miss that. Eight months of silence suddenly feels a lot longer when she’s standing here smiling at me like that.

“I’ll go unpack,” she says, still watching me like she’s waiting to see if I recover.

Leo grabs her bags from beside the couch and heads toward the stairs.

“I’ve got these.”

She nods gratefully and follows him. Halfway up the staircase she pauses and glances back at me.

“Try not to burn anything while I’m gone.”

I blink. “I don’t burn things anymore.”

She tilts her head toward the stove, where the pancake pan is smoking slightly. Leo snorts from the top of the stairs.

I curse under my breath and rush to turn the burner off as Poppy disappears upstairs, her laughter trailing faintly behind her, and just like that, the kitchen feels a little quieter again.

But my wolf is wide awake now. Because if this morning is any indication, having her back in this house is going to make focusing on anything else nearly impossible.

“Oh, and Jake…” she calls from upstairs.

“Yes?” I respond too quickly.

“Thank you.”

I don’t answer because I don’t know exactly what part she’s thanking me for. The food?… The room?… The fact that we didn’t push her this morning? Maybe all of it.

I start clearing the plates before Leo comes back down, because if I don’t do something, I’ll be tempted to follow them up the stairs. I stack dishes in the sink and turn the water on, letting the warm spray rinse syrup and crumbs away.

Leo is back before the sink fills.

“She wasn’t telling us the truth, was she?” I ask him through the mind link.

“You felt it too?”

I’d felt the truth in that; I’d seen the honesty in her eyes.

“So what are we supposed to do?” I ask when it’s clear Leo isn’t going to say anything else.

Leo glances toward the stairs again. “We wait.”

My wolf huffs. He hates waiting, but Leo’s right. Pressing her will only make things worse. We just got her back, and neither of us is risking that by cornering her into explaining something she’s clearly not ready to talk about.

Upstairs, a floorboard creaks, and both of us go still instantly. My wolf lifts his head. Footsteps move across the hallway above us. A drawer slides open, then closes again. She’s unpacking, which means she really is staying.

I’m about to finish the dishes when we hear her voice. It’s soft, muffled by the ceiling between us.

At first, I think she’s on the phone until she speaks again.

“…I told you to be careful.”

Leo and I both freeze. Her voice is quiet, but clear enough that we can hear the tension in it.

“This is exactly what I meant,” she mutters.

I glance at Leo. He’s already looking at me.

“They almost noticed,” Poppy continues upstairs.

Silence follows. Then she sighs a loud, frustrated sigh.

“No, I’m serious. If you keep doing that, they’re going to think I’ve lost my mind.”

My stomach tightens and Leo’s jaw goes rigid.

There’s another pause, then Poppy speaks again, annoyance bleeding through her voice.

“I’m not saying you have to stop talking,” she whispers. “Just… maybe pick better moments?”

My wolf goes perfectly still. There’s no second voice, no phone call, no one answering her. Just silence before she speaks again.

“And the last thing I need right now is my mates thinking I’m mentally unstable.”

The words hit like a punch.

“They’ve already been through enough because of me.’

Leo exhales slowly through his nose. Upstairs, something thumps softly, maybe a bag hitting the floor.

Poppy sighs again. “Please.”

Silence falls over the house again. Leo and I remain perfectly still in the kitchen. Neither of us speaks. Because we both heard it, and there’s only one question left hanging in the quiet space between us.

Who exactly was she talking to?