The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 2

** Jake’s POV **

The moment she says it, the fear she’s been carrying is right there, clear as day. The weight of it all. It’s in the way her shoulders drop, as if she’s been holding herself together for far too long. In the way her gaze doesn’t quite meet ours anymore, like saying it out loud has made it harder to pretend she’s still in control.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

A heavy silence settles over the room as everything starts to fall into place. My thoughts tangle, fragments of the puzzle I’ve been trying to solve finally beginning to connect. But one truth rings clear above all the others… We failed her.

She didn’t feel safe enough to come to us with this. Not at the start, not when it mattered. And that’s not something I can easily forgive myself for.

Leo doesn’t move at first, but when he does, he’s slow and careful. He steps in close, one hand coming to cup her cheek. “Hey,” he says, quieter now. “Look at me.”

She doesn’t, and that’s when it hits me, not just how bad this is, but how long it’s been happening right in front of us.

When Poppy first came here, she was impossible to miss. All attitude, honesty, and a fire that refused to be dimmed. She challenged everything and everyone, never softened herself to make things easier, never backed down from being seen exactly as she was.

Now she won’t even meet our eyes, and her voice is quieter than it was. The fire is still there, but it’s buried deeper now. And I didn’t notice when that happened. I didn’t see the shift, didn’t question it. I just let it happen right in front of me.

I push away from the desk and cross the room, stopping just in front of her.

“Poppy,” I say gently.

Her head lifts, but only slightly. It’s enough.

“You’re not dealing with this on your own anymore,” I tell her.

Something in her expression shifts, and then her composure cracks next. Her hand comes up to her face as if she can stop it, like she can hold it together if she just tries hard enough. It doesn’t work.

“Hey,” I soothe, stepping in properly now.

I don’t hesitate. I pull her into me, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other settling at the back of her head, guiding her in. For a second, she stiffens. Then she gives.

She leans into me, like she didn’t realise how much she needed it. My shirt dampens as the tension leaves her in waves. Leo moves in behind her, close enough that she’s boxed in by both of us, one hand settling at her back, steady and warm.

“You’re okay,” he says softly.

I feel her shake her head against my chest.

“No, I’m not,” she whispers.

“Then we’ll fix it,” Leo replies. “Together.”

She doesn’t argue with that. Which is an improvement.

I keep my hold on her, letting the silence stretch long enough for her to settle. Not rushing her. She needs this more than

answers right now. But my mind doesn’t stop. It never does.

Voice… Months… Worse when she was away… Clearer now she’s back… Not erratic… Aware.

That’s the part that won’t sit right. It’s not the same way Paige’s gifts started to manifest. It’s also not how instability presents; it’s not how any mental illness I’ve studied behaves.

I frown slightly, my hand still resting at the back of her head, my fingers brushing lightly through her hair as she tells me what happened when she visited with the babies.

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