The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 2

** Poppy’s POV **

I force a laugh that I know doesn’t quite reach my eyes whilst I scan each window for any sign of someone watching me.

“Protectors?” I repeat lightly. “You make it sound dramatic. I don’t have a superhero squad.”

The twins don’t laugh. They exchange a brief look; it’s quick, silent, loaded, and suspicious. I hate that they can see through me.

“Phoenix is keeping a close eye on you,” the shorter haired one says. “They must really care about you.”

“Right,” I reply with a shrug. “Well, gold star for them.”

I turn to wipe down the already clean counter, buying myself a second to steady my breathing. Don’t react. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing it get to you.

I feel him before he moves. The air shifts as the longer-haired one steps closer, just enough that I’m suddenly very aware of how little space exists between us and the counter.

His voice lowers to a whisper. “You didn’t know about them.” It’s not a question.

My spine stiffens. “Know what?”

His gaze sharpens slightly, studying me. He leans in just close enough that his warmth brushes my cheek.

“If you need help,” he says quietly, “you can ask.”

The offer surprises me. Is he really prepared to go against Phoenix for someone he just met?

My instinct is to say no. I’m not in danger from my protectors. I know that. If anything, I should be grateful. But another part

of me, the stubborn, reckless, deeply offended part, wants to prove something. It wants to prove I don’t need Paige’s

shadows, and that I’m not something that has to be guarded like fragile glass.

I tilt my head slightly, lowering my voice in return.

“Help with what?”

A flicker of something almost playful passes through his eyes.

“Losing them,” he says.

My pulse jumps.

“You can do that?” I challenge.

Behind him, his twin stiffens.

“Alaric,” he warns quietly.

So that’s his name. Alaric. It fits.

Alaric doesn’t look away from me, completely ignoring his brother. “I can try.”

There’s something dangerously amused in his expression now. I don’t think it’s arrogance or ego. It looks more like he enjoys a challenge.

The idea blooms before I can stop it. My last shift is about to end, but my bus doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes.

I know it’s stupid to trust these strangers, reckless even, but no one ever called me sensible, and I’ve never liked being told I’m being watched.

“Alright,” I say lightly, like this is nothing more than a game. “Help me shake them.”

Short hair exhales slowly. “This is unnecessary.”

“Is it?” I counter, eyes still locked with Alaric’s. “I think this is a good training exercise for both sides, don’t you?”

Alaric’s mouth twitches; he’s enjoying this. That should probably worry me more than it does.

“You’ve got twenty minutes,” he says. “After that, you’re on your own.”

“Fair,” I nod.

He straightens, stepping back just enough to give the illusion of distance.

“Back exit again?” he asks casually.

“Of course,” I reply.

“You in, Bastian?” Alaric asks, glancing at his brother.

Bastian studies me carefully now. He looks interested.

“You trust us?” he asks quietly.

I hesitate because that’s the dangerous part.

“I don’t,” I admit honestly.

A slow smile twitches over Alaric’s mouth. “Good,” he says. “You shouldn’t.”

And somehow that makes me trust him just a little more.

I force myself to exhale and turn toward my coworker, who’s pretending very hard not to be listening while she wipes down a table she’s already wiped down twice. I walk over, keeping my face neutral and my body loose, like I’m not about to sprint through town with two strangers because my pride is bigger than my survival instinct.

“Hey,” I say softly.

She glances up, eyes flicking past me toward the counter where the twins stand. “Is everything okay?”

“That’s literally what I’m doing,” I hiss.

“Exactly,” he whispers. “Stop.”

I nod once and bite my tongue as we move. Alaric leads us through the alley, then cuts left onto a side street lined with small shops. He doesn’t rush or make it obvious. Which is infuriating because every instinct in me wants to sprint.

The voice in my mind stirs, “Breathe.” It whispers.

I do, sort of.

At the end of the street, Alaric reaches out and catches my elbow, guiding me across the road without stopping. The contact is brief, barely even there, but it sends a spark through my skin like my nerves just woke up.

I jerk slightly and Alaric’s gaze flicks to my face. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression turns more intense. Bastian notices too, of course he does. His eyes narrow slightly.

We cut through a narrow passage between buildings, emerging into a small courtyard behind a row of flats, and Alaric stops. Bastian lifts his head, his nostrils flaring. I inhale, but the only thing I catch is the damp smell of old brick.

Bastian suddenly goes still, and my stomach drops. “What is it?”

Bastian’s gaze fixes on something I can’t see. “They’re close.”

My pulse spikes. “Who?”

Alaric’s mouth curves. “Your invisible friends.”

I glare at him. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” he says, then leans in closer, his voice dropping low. “Do you actually need help?”

The question isn’t teasing now. It’s real.

I swallow. “No.”

Alaric studies me for a heartbeat, like he’s deciding if I mean it.

Then I add, quieter, “But I want it.”

Bastian’s jaw tightens. “Why?”

Because if Paige is sending protectors after me without telling me, then I want to prove I still have choices. Because I’m tired of being moved like a pawn on someone else’s board, and I’m sick of fate thinking it gets to decide what happens to me.

I lift my chin. “Because I can.”

Alaric’s eyes flash with approval. “Okay,” he nods. “Follow me.”