The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 2

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** Poppy’s POV **

The cracked glass shouldn’t still be holding, but it is.

I stare at it, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat as another thin fracture splinters outward, branching like it’s alive. The water inside trembles, rippling faintly.

Leo’s arm is still locked around my waist, solid and unmoving. I lean into it without thinking, because right now he’s the only thing keeping me from freaking out.

Jake steps closer to the desk, slowly, as if he’s approaching something that might bite. His eyes track the lines in the glass, taking in every detail.

“Don’t touch it,” I say quickly.

His gaze flicks to mine. “I wasn’t going to.”

That’s a lie. I can see it in the way his hand hovers just slightly before he pulls it back. Curiosity is winning, but not quite enough to override caution yet.

“It’s still moving,” I murmur.

“It shouldn’t be,” Jake whispers, as if worried his voice could be the thing that finally shatters the glass completely. Leo’s thumb brushes once against my side. “Poppy.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I say, the words coming out harsher than I mean them to. “I’m not even…”

The door slams open, and all three of us turn. Paige stands in the doorway, her breathing a little too fast, her eyes already locked on me like she knew exactly where to look.

“What the hell just…”

She steps inside, and something in the room reacts. The air tightens instantly, pressure snapping into place, strong enough that my ears ring. Leo flinches behind me, and Jake winces as if in pain.

It hits twice. With two distinct waves. One warm and steady, the other sharp and cold. The overhead lightbulb explodes with a violent crack, plunging us into sudden dimness. Before I can react, Jake and Leo have me pinned between them, shielding me from both sides.

Leo reaches for Paige, catching her wrist and pulling her in with us on instinct.

“Don’t,” Jake warns, but it’s too late.

The second she hits the space between us, the pressure spikes. The two forces slam together properly this time and the bulb on the far wall shatters. Glass rains down in a glittering spray.

Leo’s grip tightens. Jake doesn’t move. Neither of them lets me go. But I can feel it now; this isn’t just me, and it definitely isn’t just Paige.

“Easy,” Jake says softly.

My pulse is already racing, my skin prickling as if I’m standing too close to a live wire.

“Move,” the voice cuts through the noise in my head, sharp and urgent. “Now.”

I suck in a breath, my chest tightening as instinct claws up my spine. I push at Leo’s arm, needing space, needing distance.

He lets me go, but only just. The second I step back, he moves with me, stepping into the gap I’ve created, putting himself between me and the rest of the room without hesitation like a barrier.

His hand slides down to my wrist, grounding, steady.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, sounding so sure, even as his shoulders stay tense beneath it.

Paige’s gaze flicks to the broken glass on the floor, to the ceiling, and then back to me.

“Poppy… what’s going on?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Because I don’t know how to explain this. I don’t even understand it.

“Don’t come any closer,” I say instead.

Her brow furrows. “What?”

“I mean it.” My voice comes out rougher this time. “Just… stay there.”

Paige goes still for half a second, hurt flashing in her eyes. Then, because she’s Paige, because she’s always been the one who moves toward the problem instead of away from it, she takes a step closer, her hand reaching for me.

The air shifts again. It’s subtle at first. A pressure, as if the room has suddenly become too small, too tight. My breath stutters as something inside me pulls, sharp and sudden, like a thread being yanked.